WordPress Poet

What am I doing,Dragging out word after word,In the light of day.My poor, hollow-eyed children:These damnable posts.I lie back, refresh the page...I'm so full of shit.

Lest I Forget

Patio lounging. A muse in billowing silk. Arms bared, gentle breeze. Noon-sun sweat and wanton sighs. Breasts rise, hearts flutter. Garnet navel piercing. Hot. The darkest lipstick. Tapping fingers on the hip. Mirrored eyes linger. Her frown is always yearning. A glass of iced tea.

To Dream Too Deep

When she did not wake, she burrowed Deeper,Into the corpse-skin of the world,Where she stole the magic from forgotten gods,Ate their powers and awful disparity,Until she vomited her mortality,In the form of wriggling worms,Many-legged and blindingly yellow,(Though when crushed underheel,They leave beautifully red stains). Because she could no longer walk,Having sprouted too many eyes,She dragged …

Dreams of Dead Machines

Milk-rust and rose petals, Flowing in churning streams, Through ancient forest clearing, Weaving infinite songs, Whisper sensual calm, For a broken War Machine, Which can no longer recall(lost so in cartesian spirals), until sleep once again gleams, Like a dagger of diamond dreams, sheathed in soft, sapphire silk.

Trapped in Hell with You

Lucid dream-mazes,Labyrinth unfolding in neon madness,Distant memories caught in sleeping emotions,Haunted by the yearning embrace of lost lovers. Why would I ever want to escape this?Trapped in hell with you,Rather, I'm damned by the looming reality,Of waking,And losing you once more.

Yin

I am thankful,For my simple mediocrity,And a contentedness for simplicity,Rather than desperationFor a stranger's adoration,And purpose in a meaningless world.

Fever Dreams #2

Fuchsia dreams of white-light rooms,Repeating rhythms in coral suspension,Cold nights framed in crystal borders,Nightly bodies burst in ruby drops,While princesses dance with shotguns,Staccato steps and smoky smiles,Screaming lurid secrets,Spilling from dreamer's lips,At the moment we awake. Over and over again I'll die,Until one day things could beDifferent.

Text Chains

Phones are heavy,With empty names,Endless text chains,Binding me to this moment - Etched in stone -Frozen in time -Burned into my soul - So that pitiful message,From ten years ago,Lies in youthful hope, unread.

Uncertain Days

A certain song,On a certain day,Is enough to destroy me,So utterly,That I wish there was a way to PAUSE Life For a while, Enough, at least,So I can see the road forward,Through this relentless rain.

At Her Grove

Three times around, the circle must grow, With long-lost keys, and garlic cloves, Mounds autumnal: willow leaves, Scented oil, poured to please, On dark, foreign stones, And much-loved bones - gone too soon. Solace, Grief?