do not 

do not love me on a gloomy Sunday when the rain hits my forehead. 

poem 

rip my skin 

tear my tongue 

let my words live 

for the cities and the nuns

when rivers bleed human blood

bring to thee my human thumb. 

Snowflakes kissing

Eating silhouettes of beautiful women

With an ocean breeze sneeze.

Three lines of bees

No leaves on all our trees.

Lock the Windows, December

Is coming.

LAME.

Eat my brain

Stuff me with love

And shave my head.

The earth seems to

Float, while I walk

Upon the concrete floor.

When the pencils start

To talk and the room

Begins to sway. I think

On that day, I will eat

Oranges until I turn orange

And dance with the wolves

On full moons. When the

Turkey is done, hang it

To dry in between the

Laundry and my eyes.

The ocean is no place

To weep, only the

Waves know the secrets you

Keep secret and they won’t

Tell. When the sky crumbles

To my feet, tell mom I love

Her and walk my dog.

Help wanted Ads.

How is the weather in Paris?

Where the men wear sweaters

And the women wear lipstick.

Children with white souls

And eyes with no lids.

I have a pocket full of dimes.

Eating babies in the moonlight

Smoking cigarettes in the hot tub

Poor my soul into a hot cup of tea

Eat my memories with honey

And carrots. The Earth says

Hello. Crimson running

Through my veins, call me

Insane. But I love you.

Poem 077.

Wash your thoughts in the bath

When the rain is cold and eat

the fire out of my soul when the

kids don’t come home. The river

near the back door is howling

and the pie is steaming. Hot

Thoughts, no COTS,

CRESCENT MOON. When the

Clock hits noon hide your horses

And eat the berries, the men

Are on their way.

Shutting the door just to make noise.

Wiping the dust from my soul

While the old books fall from the attic,

The ants hang up my paintings

While the stove burns my roast.

Bringing the movement back

To Monday and the jazz back to

Children. When I say it’s time,

I mean IT’S TIME.

The sound of the summer wind between your skin and the sunset bringing home feathers and river rocks drunk women and fresh peaches before dawn I stumble upon the street where we used to dance where we used to meet the past is the present with a different kind of mind forget the fire throw your TV out we are going to Maine 

consuming minds where children are blind where men don’t mind to eat the streets clean asking questions about the past as if time cannot grasp ideas or turns when the ice melts down the drain where the clouds produce a sad kind of rain. 

drops of sunset kisses 

catch me before I fall down between the unknown months between the crumbs fed to the dead humming the sound only the bird makes happiness finds away with time slowly falling like the river water over the tree stumps when the sun trickles in when the light touches my skin she had a thick smile and brown hair to the floor eyes that have seen war and a heart with a young soul

cold milk. 

tell me how to keep my pride when you took me for a ride and forgot the milk when it is time for mother’s funeral don’t forget to dress her in silk as requested before these roses bleed and her hands disappeared I will never know what really happened in these years  requested before these roses bleed and her hands disappeared I will never know what really happened in these years 

nonsense 

Grow like the grass near the riverbed 

Beneath the midnight moon bring to me the women of the black sea only she can smell the time children here are blind of rivers in the healings candlelit dinner with silver spoons drops of honey antique clocks funeral pens green glass lamps take that chance dance in the rain touch your brain mess with forks eat grass blades December seems so far away like where bear sleeping clouds are thick were mountains are homes to men with goats hide her body in the trunk we got to get gas 

dust

I love you as much as the moon loves the sun

The kiss of midnight bliss across my lips

To you my heart sings only delicate love

Chapped Mind.

I really can’t guarantee the skin off my teeth or the

Eyes out of my skull. But the mind that sits upon

My body soaks the honey whole. With a heart full of

Black gold and hair past her knees; nothing in

Between matters anymore.

i love this creature...

Don’t be stupid

Put those letters back in my soup

And leave the windows locked.

When the mailman comes by

Don’t blink, don’t’ move an eye.

Kiwis for dinner and death for

Dessert. The clock shall stop

At Noon.

i love to chew cheese.

To taste my mind, is like licking a cactus in July

No water, no soul, no hair, no thoughts.

Whenever the flowers grow taller than the window-

Cut the thorns and cook them in a stew.

With the birds falling and the children screaming

My thoughts get smeared to the outside of my mind.

Blood paints the portrait I wish to deliver

Before dinner.

072.

FRUIT LOOPS AND SINS
UNDERWEAR AND TEES
WEED AND COLD BEERS.

BOLD

To represent our love, I will spread this blood thin

   Across seven seas, across the moonlit sky

With tears filling my eyes my soul sighs.

The light from the sun helps my heart grow and

When you take it away from me I begin to sob.

Don’t rob my light. You know I can’t see without.

The stars can light some of the way but not

Every year my miserable soul will live.

Fill my heart with a handful of poppies and

And slice of hell.

002.

Slowly crawling back into the summer

Before the snow falls from the grey clouds

I want to eat blueberries with you in the woods again

There is no place I’d rather be than your green hazel eyes

Your skin is soft like the silk on my pink blanket

Sipping our beers and sending our cheers

I will love you until the end of TIME

 a baby

When the snow covers the cemetery before dawn

When the rain falls oh so softly on my face

When the smell of flowers bring joy to the soul

I will love you again

H8E MATH

Like a fingerprint in the rain,

Erasing history before

It takes place. On a plane

My mind finds space in between 

junk mail And your Mother’s funeral.

The clock ticks, like my brain

Trying to make sense of this

Math equation. Who needs math

For a fucking art degree anyways?

When paint peels back like the

Skin of an orange on a hot day,

I begin to cry. The cold takes 

away the bad memories we just made. 

Expiration date: 20, November 2019.

 Exhausted

Between books and locks

Ads and crosswords.

The floor cracks,

Beneath all things

That are black.

Like midnight the

Moon brings in

The Children-

Before the Mothers

Sin, before Dad

Takes a swim.

The draft from

Within brings

Shivers only

To the soul

When the

Blood runs dry

And the river

Eats you whole.

My mind is

Nowhere to be

Found. I mind 

as well

Drown. 

i like this version better

poem 009.

can i fall asleep
inside your mind?
tuck me in while
Jupiter watches,
i don't mind.

Hand sanitizer Love.

Instead of sitting in the corner

Wasting time while the trees sway

Back and forth, 

     Back and forth

           Back and forth, Before Sundays

Turn into Thursdays and the

Snow falls on the Moon.

Be nice to the lady who

Sweeps the stoop.

She has nowhere to go

On Christmas.

A second opinion.

I don’t know how to make you love me anymore

I have taken out all my teeth, I’ve even cleaned them for you.

My hair is still long, the way your mother would wear hers. 

I painted my mind, your favorite color blue. When you told me

To end it, I did. The steaks are at high stakes with the nightmares

You have saved and the bugs you ate.

The tree will rattle when the stars remind them

To come home.

Acorns.

Tell me that story again, where

You tuck me into November

With my pink blanket and a cup

Of hot tea. Let me know how

It goes again. What happened

To the man on the moon?

Or the stars that used to surround

Him? When the moss isn’t green

And the trees don’t have leaves.

I found all the acorns. 

Spitting on your brain since 93

Ya need a hearing aid like you need a bullet to the brain

With these nonsense nuns standing over me,

Hounding me for my gun. The front door is still

Made of bricks and still on fire. When the

Rug is worn out and the glass shatters. Remember

The human matter, we found on that ladder

The day before our Thanksgiving Day Parade.

Does this Turkey even matter anymore?

I am the Mailman now.

As I sit in my corner,

All hunched over.

The time seems

To disappear into

Years I don’t

Remember. When

The pens run out

Of ink and the phones

Don’t ring: My chair

Will still spin. The

People will still sin,

And eventually die.

The obits will pour in,

like that tall glass of

Lemonade on a

Hot, Muggy July

Day. Who is here

To type? Who is here

To proofread?

These obits

Won’t publish

Themselves.

Mrs. Sue Smith Sews.

Not a soul a would know

 Of the troubles my neighbor sews,

Into blankets she throws at souls of

The unknown. Hidden inside, little

Words of hate. The yarn holds together

All her mistakes, taken from her pillows

And her diary. Years of this only results

In an overgrown front yard and a

Broken big toe. Mrs. Sue Smith sews 

and that’s all she knows.

The morning Blues.

Scratching the time right off

My fingernail while the car alarm

Is going off. The white paint on

My mother’s front door is as

Soft as a rose petal.

Secrets hidden inside my

Neighbor’s mailbox with

Dead bees and obits.

Remember sadness only

Comes with a late winter

And a dark mind.

Put it in your pocket.

To eat the laughter from your smile

  Time slips with rain drops that splatter

Upon the forehead of the unborn.

i spy....

Emotions Make You Feel.

What does it even mean to feel anymore

My skin so worn out, pulled from each side.

Cracks beneath my eyes. When everything

Pours out, like a rainstorm in May. When

The drops are bigger than limes, filled with

Time. The feelings I had and the feelings

I have are completely different. Now

When the sun is too hot, my eyes

Decide to melt into a silver pot.

When the winter is too harsh, my

Melancholy mind turns to rust.

Beneath my Decembers, in between

Weak weeks and lovely weather.

Clouds form a place where

My eyes can finally taste and my

Nose and take a breather.

When the sadness enters, like a

Rush from the Fall’s ocean.

  Trickle down the side of my eye.

The waves crash over, my empty thoughts

Seem to sink.

   To    

      The

          B O T T O M.

Woods.

Sipping coffee by the fire,

   As our eyes begin to dance with the flames

Our bodies take place upon the wood floor.

   Cinnamon and evergreen linger in the air while

Laughter and love watch.

Air so thick our thoughts stop as the night turns 

to rust.

the color red.

Pressing mangoes against the inside of my teeth

The juice drips, down, 

      down, 

              down.

Chipped nails, dried up thoughts nailed to

The walls inside my mind.

While the flower blooms before our eyes,

Inside our thoughts paint begins to dry.

Jazz that plays loud as day, 

     jigsaw

        Jig jazz, 

               slow jazz, no jazz.

Living room love

Move the pillows and make a tent

Let’s make love in the living

Room tonight.

Green tea bitch

With luscious lashes &

Lips that make you turn

The mountains seem to

Shiver, while you enter

Through the door.

Strike of light.

Hating on the minds of the shy

      Where the words seem to escape before our eyes

The ocean’s breeze will tell the time

When the trees make your bed and the forest floor is

Scattered with remains of what we used to be.

What we used to see. Before the buildings took our woods away and the

Cars killed our rivers. Meet me before the Crescent Moon,

We can share memories and tea. The music will fill our souls,

While the Earth spins, the walls begin to melt.

 Farther than my arms can reach, branches wrap around

My body while the cool air moves in. 

While the fire in my soul lights the way, 

you find time before death to love me and hold me.

questions

Feeding the criminals thoughts of impeachment and

      Dreams where they can vote again. Where their voice is heard.

The rust on the locks are thick and black like tar.

Here the men eat fruit and sing songs before they close their eyes.

hold my hands.

To assist a murder

To blow the clouds across the sea

With the eyes of a bird and the heart of a man

When the moons bring the children and they dance

I want the time to stand still while raindrops fall between

Broken bones and cups of coffee. With the world behind me

And words in my pocket, take my hand and let’s dance one last dance.

RYAN MAC

I want to spend the rest of my midnight moons with you

I want to lick the words from your tongue

I want to love you till there are no more tomorrows

Discard the paint.

Locally grown pears hang from each of my ears

I have worms on my knees and a needle in my eye

While the plants outside die I watch time lie to me

Like the lady next door. Math tests are for losers

Who don’t like art. And the stain on my shirt came

From my breakfast last night. While showers of

Stars litter the mind of our children, there is no

Time like NOW to teach them of the weather. 

such things as almonds.

Painting memories with chalk and skipping stones like I’m five

I’ve told my story once and I shouldn’t have to say it again

When the swaying of trees and the memories of scrapped knees

Leaves and wind chimes bring back my young times

On top of a fence, the owl sits and just observes the air

Laying minds to rest and sipping cold coffee, the world needs

a hug.

I need to send Tony flowers

Put the a in between you and I as the night begins to unwind.

The black sea can see the evil eye no matter the weather.

Time changes the thoughts that arise after the men die.

Worse than I thought.

We are all just children waiting to sin,

While wrinkles appear upon the faces we wear.

Day in and day out. The same thing is said.

Lights that tell us to stop and signs that remind

Us to breathe. Let’s make love in the neighbors

Pool.

12 29 93

My birthday is approaching slowly and defiantly surely.

The 29^th of December is a magical day for the Queens & her worms.

My age: twenty six whole times around the Earth.

All I want for my birthday this year, is fresh squeezed orange juice.

humans, pls follow me :) instagram: @ahumantorr twitter: @gurltorr860

Stupid S’s

Squeeze Subjects

Squeaky Showbiz

Squirmy Sandboxes

Squinty Scumbag

Stylish Spandex

Sketchy Skunks

Seltzer Screw-up

weather feelings.

The sad snow,

The raw rain,

The satisfying sun,

The wicked wind,

The nasty night,

The majestic morning.

Nickels & dimes.

I love you and the way your words roll of your teeth.

The way you brush your hair in the November sun.

When the last rose of the bunch bleeds black.

Where were you last month? When my cat

Wouldn’t stop crying and all my crops were dying.

His Dirty Fingernails.

I’m ready to take your body and throw it to the wolves.

We used to be closer, dancing naked in the woods.

Now we see each other through our living room blinds,

Dark and dingy. I can’t even remember the last time you

Licked my tongue or ate my ears. I want to know

What your brain feels when I’m around. Where do

Your thoughts go when the lights don’t turn on?

When will we touch the moon? Have you even seen

My Mother lately? She has no inner soul anymore,

The man of the hour took it from her, bold and sour.

gramps has a pet bee

Bumble bees and grandpa just sneezed.

The rain is falling from the skin of the clouds.

Clouds the color of mocha and love so deep,

deeper than 100 degrees.

The sea is out to get us tonight so stay inside.

Don’t bring in the pumpkin seeds and water my mailbox. 

h

When the world seems too cold to have a smile

The sidewalks are a place for us to rest our feet.

Together we walk in sync with the sun.

The world is a scary place but with you by my side

I can conquer anything.

D E A D.

Dry my bones by the fire you made

From the heat in your heart and the

Flame from your eyes.

The stone wall seems too big to

Conquer. While rivers bring our

Springs, the Winter brings us

Shivers. Down our spine, down the

Side of our mind; falling in time.

The rain falls sideways when 

I’m dreaming.

she.

She who has the soul of a fox,

Who can love deeper than canyon.

She who has the mind of a man,

And a body of a Goddess.

Crinkle.

To touch her sky one last time, the velvet skin rubbing against

Cold hands that touch. Wandering minds meet behind the lies and

Hot summer months. Tears of joy run down her porcelain face, while

Butterflies mistake her mouth for a rose.

swim to the moon tonight? 

raise them on blues and the rhythm of the forest.

my dad taught me how to climb trees and catch shooting stars. 

when the skies cry, winter is still shy, as the sun melts my thoughts.

Plastic Spoon

Bring forth the head, of the man who cried. He stole my pride and my left eye. Living with nightmares and ghosts, the dark is my only friend. Baking some brains, cleaning my knives and trying to kill some fucking time. 

who made it this way?

Would you believe me if I told you I cut my hair just to forget about you. Feeling something, even words, will bring joy to your soul. Just a little song, something small. When nothing comes in, like when the ocean doesn’t wave to us anymore, the things that used to make me smile don’t exist. Who was I, when I thought love meant something more than four letters and a dead heart. All I need is someone to talk to.

Do you even love me anymore?

How long before time kills us, before my bones turn into dust.

Words that are said and even unsaid, they linger, they stick around.

When the door doesn’t open, aren’t you upset?

With tears that fill my eyes, with thoughts that won’t seem to die.

I can’t stop thinking about the time when we finally spoke.

Words that were nice, words that meant something.

Sure the world still turns round, but when you don’t say

A word to me, my heart crumbles to the ground.

Beyond the sunrises, the sweatshirts, the long cold showers:

Where has the Love gone?

Looked up words that start with B on GOOGLE.

Brilliant blue grass broth

Boldly bangs bamboo

Brown boiling point 

Births bulletproof boy scouts

twenty five.

Honey dew dripping

      Off of lips I’ve kissed

With a charcoal heart, nothing left to

Lose besides you.

can we just kiss already

When no one tells you the way home

When the streets have no lights

And our nights become mornings

With no breakfast and quiet kisses

I only wish of you in the morning-

When the moon is seeping into my room.

The taste of you still sits upon

My tongue. I want to call you mine.

And I want that all night.

a dried mind

As my eyes meet the pale pink rose

Sinks into oblivion.

Thoughts glide through broken glass

Meeting velvet sunsets.

Touch my tongue with a Monday Mind

Flowers seem to bloom with

The midnight moon.

   skintight

Cut my wrist with a rib cage.

Chew on the souls of the dead-

November the Fourth, choke on

Holes filled with nightmares.

poem

Ancient stories heal the minds our children once own.

Blunt trauma, thoughts with scars thrown to the unknown.

Contrasting ideas, months with no sun, who really knows anymore.

THE TV WON’T SAVE YOU

There is doubt that sits upon the very bottom of my toes.

Rubbing sand against my teeth, only to show my blood is black.

Old newspapers dispersed on the kitchen table where the cats sleep.

Glasses full of water, sink is full of dishes, rats eat my mind.

Time is thrown in a closet, for days that seem to fly.

When children begin to die due to lack of knowledge:

Books don’t exist anymore.

heavy items float.

Inspire the minds of the birds that fly

      Above the skyline, before the sun sets, before night swallows us whole.

The room begins to sway, as the ceiling becomes the floor, the floor becomes the

Ceiling. Walking on walls, tongue tied, and the telephone has rung. Off the hook, off the cliff,

OFF WITH HIS HEAD. Noise stops, silence enters the skeleton’s eyes. When the black

Sea rises, the stars will float and the Moon shall sink.

            Below the water, underneath it all, RAW.