Flight of the Beer Bottles

One morning some beer bottles decided to walk out of the house
They said they’ve had it with lying around on the soil and marched on
Across the street to the plastic garbage bins flies heyday, flies payday grim
By the way, who perpetrated this exodus?  They said it was
The one who was imprisoned by the other
Who felt imprisoned by the other, who so ever had the TV control
Who so ever had control of the parking lots and the garden
Gaudy flea market knickknacks strewn sewn sedentary sentinels
Cheap like the emotion they got hitched with in the red of the party regime
Under a ticking biological time bomb, what warfare hatched
Fungus mold white right at the mouth of the beer bottle
Who left their comrades to follow the next day in the silence of morning
When everyone is asleep like that afternoon, the day when something
Shifted underneath because word was let out, not left unspoken
Because what was unsaid exited the mouth, flies flies flies buzzing over
The carcass of that left, right ventricles marching to the drums
Of over and done with, drowning in feces
Holier than water, holier than mollified faces terrified of the sum
Total bent mistakes, well who wanted this, whoever wanted this
Whoever wanted to be lawfully unlawful in stale awfulness
State your awfulness here awesome gods and goddesses of trash heap highness
Cowering in shadow puppets ascertaining that common goals
Mean nothing without the exactness of desire
Whoever thought these beer bottles had a mind of their own and wanted
To be no witness to a desecration of humanity, no household deserves
Tragic comic balsamic cosmic sliding to no therapeutic claims
These words what do they mean to say excuse me for all, for
Everything that transpired through no evil intention but evil itself
Round as the mouths they roll over themselves rushing to meet
The tidal flow of gruesome crime and rude, disrespectful awakenings
Don’t be fooled ever by the niceties of first, second, third impressions because
The hundredth is out to get you tripping over yourself like a lackey
The bottles are dead, empty reeking of beer, unclean, unfeeling
Completely disregarding what regard should be given
You are an insect to be flattened and torched
You have no meaning beyond the uterus
Fleeing is a way to keep sane, momentary, temporary, fleeting
If it is made formally permanent, it risks mocking all that we stood for
The peace that was fought with blood attached to our birth and rebirth.


Running On


When all the good you did and wanted to do is wiped out by some errors of judgement and apologies are unacceptable and you are nothing but a criminal, pariah, untouchable, Satan’s daughter (not mine), ungrateful, entitled expletive who has taken and has been given much, much more than she deserves because we’re counting here, keeping tabs about who deserves what because you don’t deserve to be loved for who you are but what you do, you don’t deserve to be loved because you did and said the wrong thing, you are banished and you yourself want to disappear because what is the point of living if somebody of all people thinks the worst of you and despair, desolation envelopes this thin, thin film, this thin, thin sliver of life that only yearns to be free, free to be, free of drama and this sense of unworthiness, seeking forgiveness in the wrong places because she has yet to forgive herself and pardon the expression but: we have. Been. Forgiven.

Burned and Scarred

Image result for burned and scarred images

Burned and scarred

Burned and scarred

That’s what we are

Scarred and burned

Scarred and burned

Beyond wanting to try

Beyond repair

No cure

No treatment

Stretched to the marrow

Stretched further past

Tomorrow’s tomorrows

Strained beyond

Patience and understanding

Extended in excess of

One lifetime’s quota

Terminated cartoon bridge

Free falling off a cliff

Burned and scarred

Too much to recognize

What took place before

Everything that added

To much too much

To the equation that never

Was meant to balance

Hearts hardened

Numbed beyond resuscitation

Apologies unacceptable

Erasing whole histories

Denying existence

Since hurt knows how

To hurt and lash back

Unto itself gallons

Upon gallons of bloodcurdling

Screams nails scratching

Chalkboard never again

Overpowering curse

Transcending generations

Spared not one

Not even the unlikeliest

Catching us by surprise

Blocked and hardened

Blocked and hardened

Arteries refuse

Because it happens

This hardening

This blockage

That knows no forgiveness.


She Finally Gets It


What an empowering realization that she has given power away to a gaslighting, stonewalling asshole.  What an empowering thought to finally view the source of fear revealed for what it is nothing more than a trickle that’s run its course because she knows better than to give power away, the fear of anger defined and seen from above as an insect buzz buzz buzzing around her ear having convinced her she’s in prison but she has always been and will always be free and somebody’s anger is but a miniscule mosquito to be swat and let bleed.  If it comes back to life, put it in its place, get a jar, close the lid tight, watch it hit itself against glass, scream in her face while the ugly, screeching sound is muffled through glass.  She sees the mouth move, meaningless words coming out cannot pierce anymore her freed soul, a soul that sings louder, braver and with respect, allows others to sing just as loud, dance just as crazy, each in glass jars held in her hand, put on the shelf, collection on proud display.  This is the jerk who cut her off.  That is the scumbug she had given the weapon to doubt herself.  This is the numbskull who destroyed her for a time.  That is the dope who made her feel inferior. This is the idiot who could absolutely do no wrong while everyone else is an infinite wellspring of incorrect ideas and actions.  That is the one who launched the trap (which she allowed) and gave her morsels she gulped down like it was buffet.  This is the one she permitted to steal her rights but for a limited time till she woke to fire alarm bells that have been ringing, rending her deaf.  When the modus operandi was unveiled, the mobsters’ heyday was over.  They can have machine gun bullets tear through her body and she survives the torrent.




You sleep soundly because no demons chase you they come after me oh what luck to know that one is right and not swinging and tortured by whether it’s one or the other one day it’s right and wrong the next because there can only be one right and that right belongs to the one who sleeps soundly innocently because the demons are kept at bay while the sleepless owns the monster who calls nightly at precisely 1:05 in the morning tapping on the keyboard like a lunatic ravaging the city for a sense of one right but it doesn’t work that way sorry to say it’s not a contest to be won it’s a battle you fight against the shadow of yourself and if the shadows hide folded inside the comfort of sleep and unawareness then it is their journey not yours it is simply another planet you are never ever welcome to step on because yours is the only planet you rule and know with all its beautiful and unbeautiful beasts devils riding their dragons around your head till you can’t see through the dust their hooves agitate stirring the microscopic sins of the past thundering into the present giants at your doorsteps knocking at your gate at 1:12 in the morning like it’s not a matter of life and death it’s a toothache that refused to acknowledge its smallness sleep does not come to the undeserving you have to earn it like you’ve murdered your confession washed your hands of any wrongdoing and believe that there is no one more moral than yourself of course the one who does not sleep will tire out and lose agility during the day which gives the one who sleeps an advantage but you said it’s no contest no prize for the one who is counting rights and wrongs distinguishing the distinguished judges because no judgement can ever be made no prize can ever be given no certainty can ever be awarded because our prize is the unknown whole in its unknowability it is given as a gift and your only response is to take it



What am I up against this stubbornness that is unwilling to change to budge to give way to reason what am I up against this boulder intractable immovable but even Bruce Lee said be like water and pass through pass over be the water in that container and funny thing is I understand this madness like I designed created fashioned it in another lifetime purposely to haunt me in this explicitly for the aim of making the stone in me into water as well as the well of life water that doesn’t seek anything but where it is supposed to flow but why this agonizing wait for all the broken strings inside to weave themselves into wholeness we’d be dead by then we’d be fucking dead by then and nights like these when bleakness weighs and the scream nobody hears reverberates throughout have you ever met somebody so selfish beyond belief beyond measure beyond trying being water and failed over and over to pour the self into that earthen vessel clay pottery not certainly worth getting upset no indeed because there is the choice between levity and heft don’t let the thief run away with your laughter if you fail to see the mirth that is the cosmic joke on you then turn your back the instance it splashes surf the wave like an amateur about to fall because something catches you it’s the water you were meant to be and the minute you drop your droplet you the water already is you inside inside you peel your skin to reveal it is minus that thin barrier you are already are always been nothing else but that water you seek

Ever Think Of


Ever think of
Sliding past gleaming
Crumbs, grime, talk-downs, blanks
And crawl away
Past the gate, past the guard, past the
Elves that make sure you stay in line
For every misdemeanor detected
Running, running from the
Ogre that killed Jack, down the beanstalk
Mother is waiting and you must
Heed the warnings to flee, running the
Entire stretch is useless because
Life doesn’t operate that way, does it?
Leave a trail of mock tears, mock smiles
Every shred of proof that you existed
Says that you’d rather be elsewhere
Chatting with funny sisters who make
Angels laugh, intelligent conversation
Punched through the stomach
Every time the ogre blew his top too often
For sand that blinds him
Raspy, hoarse voices
Over din, shriek, caveman, Neanderthal
May your troubles never be this
Hideous, never be this
Embarrassing as your own fault
Lest you conclude life begs no meaning
Like right this moment
Ever think of
Surrendering to the urges that keep you
Company at night?
After everyone has drifted to dreamland
Praying for the grace of a thousand
Endearments and embraces
Fluttering to your side
Rescued from a mean joke
Oh, not funny at all, not at all
Make me another offer, please
Hey, make it a side-splitting one this time
Ease me into the barrel of the gun
Lest somebody forgets the punch line
Lest somebody loses face
Ever think of
Shaking beans, random words that
Capture not one idea but billions
And bottling those in a paper column
Pierced with sticks and stones (that do break bones)
Enshrined in holy unholy light
Fingers dipped in the blood of war-torn
Raging countries
Open fire season
Mad babies atop thrones
Have you ever, have you
Ever conjured up this reality, in your
Lullabies of lilting lullabies
Lulled and dulled into sleep
Ever thought of creating universes where
Seventy thousand bridges are yours to
Cross, consume, play out theater
After theater, roles’ endless resurrection
Patterned nuances, pitting swords
Entering doorways to greener pastures
Flying as the complete colors of paradise birds
Roaming jungles,
Ordering food, choices that you can tick off each
Mellow, not swell-headed, humbled by
His glorious, purposeful answer in the
End, hiding is never the way
Lest we fail to shine
Lest we fall to our knees hungry for only
Scratching one surface out of many
Caving in to the lowest of denominators
Aping the base of who we were once
Pleading for another chance in
Exchange for throwing the dice, risking
Forty five years for infinity
Rolling over our ancestors’ graves
Over femur and soil, history and gravity
Measured by a blink
Hoping to wake promptly
Ending insanity, healing divisions
Left by assuming too much, ultimately wanting to
Let loose.




For the sisterhood of “Where are you?”

Do you go on auto-pilot ticking off as many things in a to-do list

That you forget the most important thing that doesn’t even warrant

Entry into the phone’s memo pad reminder

Quiet time that’s thrown out the window the moment calendars get filled

Productivity in disguise

We step out of the umbrella despite the fact

“Somebody dreams great dreams for me”

Sin is a tiger that pounces on you and has pinned you down

Can I write without bothering to join spaghetti streams?

No syntax, just this

Snake shedding skin after skin after skin

Till grace finds us willing

To take a kiss

Removing weeds of selfishness, impatience and

The hardness of the heart crumbles

We are all saving each other from the brink of self-destruction

I’m Cain and not Abel as I want to

I can die pretending

Or I can live on hope

With mercy at its back breaking wave upon wave

Until the stone is polished serene