Tuesday

 


 

her with the milkweed hair

   standing silent in the forest

    i gave my heart to years ago

    shed  my skin to rip it out

bare hands and all 

 poem

   angel of the 

   crescent moon sky

        she makes my 

             heart 

       sing 

 


poem

if we can't find gold 

in the days to come,

why yell at the 

sun?

 

picking between my 

c

    r    oo   

           ked   t e e t h

the hurtful words 

whom

hide from daylight

can' keep livin' 

                    this life

in such disarray 

Monday

 

eating away at my brains

the hateful stress continuously 

        seeps in 

d e e p e r   and     f a r t h e r

        as bleached as the sun

       drained 

from the  red             heat

these worn eyes have been 

through

       oceans and grey storms

      silence fills the room

      as my teeth begin 

      to grind

silver dawn

him with the unbeautiful

mind 

will see through 

the sheer lies

above the mountains

forms a silver dawn

the home to precious angels

whom don't know a 

goddamn thing and butterflies

     sing low music

come to me 

a red rose blooms in my 

palm as the slivered moon 

rises

 


it's a nice 

    day for a funeral

i must say.

   as crows make way

against a bleak sky.

nothing left inside, felt

just the sensation 

              to die.

 

it's raining blood,

painted skies- 

       red.

a moon full 

       of crimes

only the 

stars know of.

 

knowing i 

did my best

to give 

you my heart

just to watch you 

run in the dark

(blindly)

 poem

lay this body

W H O L E 

into the

winter ground.

dig deep 

to finally 

let this soul 

find peace 

my yellow 

butterfly. 

 


poem.

the way he 

plays his music,

it touches my 

delicate soul.

sets free of all 

feelings-

brings tears to my eyes

because i finally

realized, this 

is 

my

        home.

 


i open my mouth 

    and out comes

a butterfly 

      here to speak 

the words of 

              the 

                 Holy.

 


a fossil heart 

           i hold, 

 in my bare palm.

for you, 

      inside,

hides opal feelings 

of  true l o v e.

 



as milky men

    lick the stars

my light 

     is out for the 

night 

and now i cannot

read.

 


pocket poem 707

an immortal 

white gold sky

sits confined under my

                  tongue. 

 


an onyx moon will set 

tonight

i can feel it in my teeth

   d e e p   

          down

rattles my bones

awakens the soul



POEM

woke up with
  o p a q u e 

t houghts 
           drowning
my ability to

t h i n k 
  
    s
     t
       r
        a
        i 
          g
           ht