Friday



a LARGE poem

if you suppose life

     is a lady with full

lips

     all Liquor is Water


   Freckles in December

A comatose heart

     Hangs by a slender thread

       Rattles inside my chest

Velcro’s dawn: oblique & rough

 

   Immortality is the death of all

  Our Winter thoughts

 

Give the gypsy your love

    To conceive a garden of peonies


Thursday

Want a Xerox of that?

 

Demented children

    Stare at the Moon

With melancholy minds

   Liquefy those who can’t breathe

Fickle Friends gather around

Decrepit thoughts

    Somewhere between

Bergamot Winters and

                          Cigarette butts


Sunday

Skinshape - Oracolo (2015) full album

sun i want to sip

as virgins 
         weep by my graveside-
roses sprout- new life
   violet honeys u c k l e
 glistens-   sits
atop my lips-
rosemary orphans,
soggy cavities, 
     indigo tissue,
larger than life-
   dock your boat
on this isthmus,
nevertheless-
winter  s a g e 
always 
soothes the mind 
of the Priest 
#37
as my osseous
   h e a r t 
  slowly sinks
to oblivion 
            seventy nuns
take my dreams
and hoard them
letting them
rot and smell 
         as June Bugs
create a Hell
an inlet 
for all North American
Bugs-
      a pail full of tears
i've been carrying around
for fucking years-
  it's time to 
   let summer soak and 
mosquitoes m o a n
  as i gaze 
three alligator 
       babies appear
    "good day 
                  sir" 
mowing my love

   harvest the
feelings left
in my gut
soggy marrow
  b e t w e e n
lost love
nuclear lust 
love that once 
had a definition
dule pistols
   don't make 
you stronger-
  midst the 
madness
  conscious 
beehives 
produce sweet cedar
for my lips have 
been naked 
far too long
orphans scream
while 
eternal virgins
weep
 sun(light) control

a crippled moon
   fog and bergamot
 fill this dusty air-
nocturnal dreams
   days in between
years with sixty-seven
 Sundays
June Bugs 
meet me at the 
mailbox-  
  my neighbor and her 
snake eyes- resurrect
the feelings 
for a sad Spring
that starts
at the ground
and rattles my bones
enough 
    to destroy the 
levee-
   cotton cottages
 and alligator allies
my love belongs
to the old man on 
     Main Street 
smoke and tears

 i married a
woman with
marsupial 
    manners
  (love blind)
crippled heart
i pass off to the
Raven- 
sixty-seven
bones to this 
skeleton and 
i still dream of 
Winter Worms
and forbidden
Juniper-
taste the 
rotting words
that sit on
his slick mouth.
warrior
of words- 
nothing but a 
  blank stare 
to offer-
i hoard
 my feelings 
as i show my 
fangs

Saturday



seeds and bookmarks

if life came with a map 
what would love really  be?
would we feel the bark 
      with our fingertips  ( the same )?
would we be able to see 
    the clouds around the Coyote Moon?
does anything smell?
days go by- like flies
on the wall
i need direction
i wish for a map

but most of the other days 

a map isn't necessary



march

please don't try to kill me
because i'm already dead

a stone that sinks
deep in this chest
as my bones rattle
this heart rarely beats

please don't try to kill me 
cus 
i'm already dead

please don't try

with a pencil to the head
and a gun to the eye
nothing 
seems brighter 
than this 
grey sky

Cody Simpson - Captain's Dance With The Devil (Official Video)





This young man is goin' to die
Cursed as soon as he saw the sky

poem

an assassin of 
the gloom night-
slit the sky 
with her knife
before sunrise
 short skirts, bruised knees
kissed by an angel
fresh rain hits the 
fire that crackles on the yellow
moon

queen bee dreaming

i belong in a world with 
my king 
and a crescent moon
    dress me in silver
         feed me to wolves
i belong in a world 
with my king 
      and 
endless magic love
      bathe my soul in a 
          vase full of gold 
no one can hold this heart
i belong in a world 
with my
king


color blind
by the love
we once had.

tears

a sensitive soul
death haunted
by honesty 
and reality

poem

beating backyard bugs
to death
just to ease pain
we've held inside
the moonlight leads us to
 dance on top of 
the river


daydreams

slick and shiny
like the belly
of gibran's fish

mini (pocket) poem 6

night, quiet
was killing the 
   Queen 
                     as i stood
at the foot of 
this tree, 


   alone.


poem

the men try to dream-
  only to chase the 
opossum down the river
like a late father
  (dead)(DEAD)
the moon sneaks over 
mountains and begins
      to illuminate
the river rocks
the water gently 
sliding, 
   rushing past 
  each stone, 
each rock




zig zag

sinking our feet into the night sky
running from fear 
                         with a knife in hand

to seek out freedom 
to make the blues red again
   skeletons laugh 
 as Lee runs by
screaming: 

"it's noon, it's noon!"

the lunch bell rang 

 and it began to rain..


deadly eyes that whisper

she had the hands of her mother
   ((loving))

killing babies 
   drowning their
immature thoughts, before
formations occurred in 
their 

  young minds.



#23

i begged my mother 
to watch as i jumped
off the deep end
circling around- i 
couldn't' take the 
hurricane winds
any longer- 



her eyes made of cotton
      to push through
                     the violent sea


river funerals

i dreamt of a time
where i dragged 
my whole family 
down 
in one line
     DEAD.
in a burlap sack
the River Funeral
has just begun
poem


eternal as a flower
my soul grows
as you walk in the
room 
          your gold light
ignites my broken
heart



poem

you don't want to 
love me-

it's more than the 
Devil can handle- 



LIQUOR LICENSE

submerge my mind 

with past time
  old tales, old men
wooden spoons spewed all over the floor
city killing folks
prepare for war

the Cold War tells 
horror 30 years older than 
my Papa

under the dirt earth ground
lets drink til we turn sick
and sing til dawn 

Friday




before the earth told me
my purpose

i almost gave a dead man
my body

Amy Winehouse - Riverside studios Hammersmith London 10th Feb 2008.

the conception of time

(creation)

wrapped around
empty doors that shine in the night

women that see men in the black sky even when the sun don’t rise

the bark from the trees lifted ever so softly

leaves crawl up vines that twist and turn

 begin to choke out years of life just to hang loose

everywhere to the left I see poppies, red poppies

the field is glistening

the golden horizon behind it


Thursday

golden thing

Fiona Apple: “Hot Knife” (Official Music Video)

i could only love her
in her sleep
precious like time afraid of the
storm

precious like stones
on the rivers floor

cascade the overwhelming
    need for
screams have laid me to rest
when my mother could not
ceramic skin
    bullet hole eyes
a mouth that blooms

Fiona Apple - Sleep to Dream

..

destroying the
notion
to love
before the sun
again touches
my tender
mouth
when the
roots
reach the
bottom
no where else
to feel
at home
with rain on
the way
please
take
the
long way home


poem


feelings of our past
  collide with new ideas
new love,
        new us

when we could laugh
    we run in the rain

 to come
home to
warm blankets

to cuddle for endless
summer nights

we followed the train tracks to the
river

where we both found our place
and shared the Wolf Moon

i remember looking in
your brown eyes

      and smiling

Alanis Morissette - Head Over Feet (Official Video)

poem


white a as a pearl
    the leather on her chest
opens to a heart
harder than stone
with fire
       to catch
the leaves drop s l o w l y.

Wednesday



transforming into illusions
    only to whisper away the months
 for moths are on their way

winter white covering my 
mind's thoughts,
 racing towards the full moon

only to drop precious time 
on the cemetery floor 

Tuesday

 

Drown the minds

   Of the people

Who feed lies

   To helpless children

With a weak mind

  Only to suffice

For GODS whom

  Don’t exist


Children

 Racing

Their minds cling

to

    shallow

sounds

    their fathers made

When the dinner bell rang

With the hot sidewalk, the sun melts

   Into time that turns to

Blood

 That is found

Smeared across the dawn


Saturday



the rivers cry when 
                love is in the air
when the seasons change
back and forth like a strong
wind 


The Rain Song - Jimmy Page & Robert Plant


 my inspiration

    Elizabeth S. Ellis
sept 30, 1927 – may 4, 2020

Publisher of the 
     Journal Inquirer Newspaper Company 

located in Manchester CT


     
 
mrs. e in the press room







J.I. Publisher Elizabeth Ellis, fifth from left in front row, with other newspaper publishers at a conference in the 1970's 
THE ONLY WOMAN AT THE CONFERENCE

Friday

Hung above

   Stars dangle below

The earth     subtle

   Delicate

  Found where two

Rivers meet


 

With the sound of the wave

 

                 the taste of the sun

 

The moon will sleep well tonight





baby poem

we can't take the
silence
but 
silence  
can take US 

sleeping in the 
blind field

smart

eyes 
everywhere 
watching this
sunrise 
slaughter 
  the sky's mind
poem

back when the 
  devil could feel
rain
 the roads 
the fog
reptiles walk across
this bridge
before me
the nun 
sins



untitled
voices of the colored women
scream to shore
every eternal wound
every eternal morning
with the moaning moon
only to wake the wicked
children crying in the fields
fathers dying at war
falling into the oceans
grab him by his heart
and let the song sing on

Monday



dancing on the
   table top
     lightly

  the sun hits
my fingers

  and i finally
find the will

to  write
   again

isolated love 
just to make up
   for what

when  September's 
 rain is tall
                   er
                   than new york city

taken in by the sound of the
night


the black, the steady 
hum

    praying  on cigarettes and 
nights we can 
make love 
just to watch the moon 

cry


Have dreams in my pocket
Not my fault you are weak
For weeks and can’t feel your
Feet.  NUMB.
 Men
who stare at the TV
eat the scrum from the ocean
just to feel pain cus nothing
else seems to 
make sense in their 
lopsided brain 

i never want to say goodbye
to the real love 

   that's finally in my life


every smile 
    the tears that spill
from my eyes
sedated 
from within
   
frozen in this moment
frozen in our time
    

Run


real wood

beneath our winter
skies
we can grow


twist and reach
             i love you


i can't believe there was a time 
   where i would lie 

 to myself 
to my heart 
to my      b r a i n


   thinking my soul was at fault

 but my mother called and said 
  
     nothing is wrong and i'm allowed 
to hold my bleeding heart in my 
palm 

if i want

not a man
not a woman

can tell me how to treat
 a broken heart


until you feel my pain 

take your eyes for a walk 
              before it 

                             rains


ruby eyes
   so mesmerized


nothing more than this
   my teeth feel great


                      (BLACKJACK)
against your knees

   can't act a fool, when in fact
 you started the house fire


which witch

cover your eyes from my scars
 for your soul can't
            handle the truth
rob me from my
           old miseries
but this old heart can still love

emerald blood, but still empty
    obviously colorblind but
can still feel the thorns

                      of this black rose
    i should've known when the rain didn't
touch your skin,

   ....when the spring brought snow

i should've realized you weren't him

  when the sun didn't set and the moon
couldn't rise,

 i shouldn't known

the pain
my heart was feeling

was real

   


i'm done crawling
   in the mud
   wet knees

for dead love

my chest rattles
   my heart swells

bleeding blue blood
    the spell is now broken

can't ask for something
undone,
       untangled thoughts
mingling with the
feeling of a
surrendering soul

  time
negotiates the lies (that
live )             and all i can
ask for now is the
truth



  only to drag my teeth
across a mouth that

   once lived

under my Wolf Moon
 


holding my dreams

tight in my left pocket

sewing realities within

years of living
picking through
thoughts that live
in this brain


only to disappoint

my   late  father

gripping a dozen
  (dead)   roses
 your doorbell


rings

Sunday



QUEEN OF CROWS MERCH

worked with teresa on this 
queen of crows design
check her out on instagram @scribull






support local artists 
and buy the shirt ;)

Friday


river rushing 

could it be me
am i changing
like the leaves 
in fall 

??

before spring

the smell of snow
    so pure

white

is this old me done?
i thought our love was a 
dream
....

can't grow a garden without sun

take a pin to the eye

nothing 
can make you feel
like this 




you were always 
trying to force me to 
eat even when i 
wasn't hungry




writing because ryan told me to