Blood Red Flower

Pretty Petals Purge Poison

So you
You made it through the fall of grace
Summers winter dressed in black lace
The moonless sky
The wine gone sour
Your crimson fade –
Your last hour
Were you
Contemplating philosophers
Chasing lines that became blurs?
The well ran dry
The soil turned dour
Your veins… your canvas –
A blood red flower
Drowning in your self created obscurity
Wallowing in your false poetic misery
Reflection in a crystal pool of impurity
Gulp perverse like it’s a fizzy tea…
I opined
Eyes shining backward; It wasn’t you
Sprawled on the floor with your soul askew
Retching demons
At the eleventh hour
Too late… those veins –
A blood red flower
And history through the magnifying glass
Blown up like balloons in a circus parade
Put your mess in order love!
Gather your words that taunt sweet dreams
Rhetoric, sentiments, explanations, expletives –
Nonsensical cigarette ribbons in stale air
Stitch your wounds with barbed thread and wire
Stop pulling ghosts from your wretched seams
I paused
Watched you in your garden pondering
The gears grinding in your mind wandering
Stench of illusion
The weeds devour
Merlot veins… like wicked rain…
A blood red flower


Mesmerizing Mauve Membrane

I’ve been pacing in my shadow
I’ve been killing all my poems
Walking the words backward
In this valley of the bones
There’s no subtle way of leaving
Spongy walls of blue despair
Carve the feeling of your distance
Deep into this static air
I’ve been sensing my own murder
Since my grief is running mad
And it’s ripping up my memories
Like they’re just a current fad
How to shake all of this dust off
Is, in truth, anybodies guess
I’m all alone despite my own company –
In this existential mess
Tried to extricate my lack of meaning
Although I loathe this absurd need
To form words into some semblance of beauty
Some sense of fleeting dreams…
A kaleidoscope in motion
Yet my souls a wordless ocean
Time is sinking quickly into
Hopeless sands of my corrosion
I’ve been acting like a cliché
Stuck and drunk in my debris
Wallowing in rootlessness
Since my words have deserted me
An empty, undone poet
Spewing misery that turns this dim air blue
I’ve no more words, and thus no voice, no soul
Just this cup of bitter brew
Damn this vile inconvenience
That’s erupting in my chest
Until my mouth is spewing
Consonants of emptiness
All you specters, all you demons
Now you’re hiding under veils
You’re such narcissistic dwellers
When the pains not up to scale
Where’s my sweet, sad, sullen song?
Where’s my moody blue impression?
Even though my fingertips are bleeding –
I’ve no poetical confession!

At my desk, leather scent of tomes heavy in the air
Beyond the window; I’ve searched the sky for weighty words
Dreamt that I could countless times move souls
To the extent that they might rejoice or weep, or deeply yearn…
But I lament I’ve failed to paint the endless sky
With bridges leading to my beloved shades of greys and blues
Oh, just to hold a pen that once again leaks inky words of lonely, morbid woe
There is nothing that I wouldn’t do

Something a bit different IV

Dedicated to Saynotoclowns

Small Car (2002)

Swift Speed Suggests Smashing Scene

She mentioned he was flawed but I saw it in her eyes
That hunger which replaced her common sense at times
Didn’t matter he was wanting, so long as he was wanting her
Just call her Miss Dysfunctional and paint her past a blur
I tried a bit of reasoning –
Said remember James and Tim?
And Louie, Bill and Keith, and how each one left you grim?
She agreed, that certainly, they all had been huge disasters…
But you can’t remove your heart and fill that empty hole with plaster
I told her lessons learned would save a lot of time and grief
And she, in her witty way
Said Love is like a thief
And this boy has found his mark and wrung me out and wrung me through
And love is just too powerful, and there’s nothing I can do…
I shook my head
After all these years
I knew dread –
That I’d be mopping up her tears
This circus full of giddy fools
Their big clown-head smiles full of drool…
Oh my friend, come conquer this
Can’t you see I’d be remiss
To let you drive your tiny car from clown to clown in every bar?
Their empty eyes and cotton candy flowers
Should warn you that their love will rot your empty heart in a few hours
Those slick white gloves that hide their claws…
Which amaze you with tricks, to which you ooh and ahhh…
This ain’t no elementary school fire drill, and you, my girl, have had your fill
No more clowns in your tiny car –
Leave them lounging at the bar
Their confetti drinks and big black shoes –
Next to the beds of other fools…
She thought a bit and then she smiled
Said –
The right guys never been my style
This big tops got to have one dressing room with a star
I sighed, wondering…
How many clowns can you fit in a small car?