"When you need me"

when even numbers feel like
sentences, complete and whole standing alone;
when twisting skittles fall down the edges
of Sierpinski's Universal Curve;
when integral signs like magic runes
start to foxtrot across the page;
then, my friend, you know
that I am not far away in time
And if you play an
augmented 7th
and have a butterfly in New York
flutter out my name
as long as you know my exact velocity
I'll be next to you faster than
instantaneous.


"Seven Deadly Sins"

gluttony
Rooms full of things
I buy hangers
more often than I go to church
Consumerism as a religion
(doing my part
to help the economy)
and we lie on the couch
order a pizza
and eat half

sloth
We laze around in bed
as mornings tick into afternoons
playing and talking
You've work to do
and so do I
but it can wait (we say)
and maybe it doesn't happen
but the sheets are warm
and so are we.

avarice
"what would you do"
you ask me
"if you had a million dollars?"
we ponder and consider
huge houses on hills
and English racing green speedsters
pool tables and
1,000 pairs of shoes
(but if we could only buy
space and time)

pride
Sometimes I know
just how lucky you are
to walk with me
and come with me into the night
I wear
my best clothes and my best smile
and even let you
hold the door.

envy
She's beautiful
long hair, large breasts
You want her
I want to be her
fall into
a circle of disgust
If only I had
her looks and his talent
that car and that house
maybe everyone would love me
as much as I don't.

lust
I see you
across the room
All muscles and tendons
as you glide around
later I will roll over
kiss your dark skin
and taunt you with fingertips.
now I just watch.

wrath
I overreact
your confused expression
(what did I do?)
(you're upset)
I want to throw things
break dishes and hit walls
I yell at you
which I never thought was my style
and I hate myself when I see you cringe.


"I'm Not Depressed"

I'm not depressed;
the water droplets
hitting my head
don't echo in my
empty soul,
and I'm not sitting here
at the bottom of this shower
because I can't face
the life outside.
I just like the warmth.

I'm not depressed;
there's no voice inside me
telling me to just
blow this joint
drive to Vegas
fly to Tijuana
take the A-train
and I wouldn't
chain-smoke cloves
and mush them out on a photograph album
if I did.

I'm not depressed;
I wouldn't
burn these turgid documents
the words that define my life;
and if I did
I would, of course,
feel that it was drastic:
feel emptier than before.

I'm not depressed
I'd never
watch this glistening silver blade
merge with my skin
watch the emerging blood
gather at the surface and
fall onto these
perfect white sheets
(cold water or it will leave a stain).

I'm not depressed
It's not me you see here
crying into this pillow
screaming into this void
searching through this ether
for a me
that's no longer there.

"I Don't Smoke"

I don't smoke
but I wish to God I had a cigarette right now
if only for an excuse to be out in this evening air
celebrating the clearness of my mind
with a little ceremony.

I'm not tired
but I'd love to lie here in your arms tonight
outside, looking up at the stars
kissing when the world is so quiet that I can hear your heartbeat.

I know God doesn't mind the things I'm doing
because today he sent me the most beautiful sunshine
all wrapped up in a pure blue sky
and it's still January but today
I wore a grass-weed flower
wrapped around my finger.

I'm not cold, my love
but I could do with a bed all in white sheets
with a white down comforter and about a dozen pillows
with you and me in the middle of it all.


"Fight the Darkness"

write the dream to fight the darkness
every word to fight the darkness
scream the light and night and darkness
        one beat,
        one sheet at a time.

pounding louder, trying harder
every moment play the martyr
        once a fighter, flying lighter.

drink the rhythm, draw the pain
brushstrokes try to keep you sane
now you're dancing in the rain
    try to treat it
    can't defeat it
    won't you beat it
        out of your soul?

crying out to bluer skies
trying out for truer lies
        must go faster,
        must go deeper,
        must be tougher;
caring less or caring more?
        being rougher.

it's the rhythm
cataclysm
beat the darkness back again

sweeter kisses close the chase
breaking up and losing face
now the darkness, deep embrace
    no more feeling
    stop the healing
    and you're reeling
into space.

write the dream to fight the darkness
every word to fight the darkness
scream the light and night and darkness
        one sheet
        one beat at a time.


"He Left Her"

He left her
One comic book morning
The computer kept humming
like nothing was wrong.
Her smell was on everything,
he thought,
and washed all his clothes
bedsheets
soul.

He had carried her pain
on his shoulders
like her own personal Atlas.
That's why now
he cracks his back so much.
He kept running away
but theirs was a treadmill love
he was never
any farther away than before.

The air was clouded
with her need
he suffocated in its depth.

Now he kills the leftover pain
one nerve-ending at a time
and every step
takes him somewhere new
where the air is light
and smells of
sweet gardenia.


"Depressing Poetry"

You know,
I hate writing depressing poetry.
("I'm really a cheerful person,"
she yells,
"mostly.")

But sometimes that's what pours
or trickles
drips off my pen and out of my heart.

I'm only
crushing
the blue lines here
fracturing the white stillness
because I have to.

I know I've been doing this too long
because I'm beginning not to care
And these words can
fall off the paper
slip across the floor
and toss themselves into the trash.

I'll just sit here
maybe have another drink
Watch the walls
stay the same color
as yesterday.


"Jukebox"

It's kinda funny how no one ever really
pays attention when they say
there ain't no such thing as a free lunch
'cus we always expect the waitress
or mother
or cook
coming in with white plates and
red checked tablecloth
just like we were at home or
something
and smiling and telling jokes
and just generally acting as if
life was okay, not too bad really
like we had no death
or at least not for a while
and nudging the guy at the bar
and pointing to a cute pair of jeans
and nodding and whistling
and rolling her eyes but flattered
'cus she knows no one really minds
and gets them their omelet
or sandwich
or beer
and a buck in a jukebox would buy you
peace of mind.


"Cobblestones"

One cobblestone leads smoothly to the next.
A flow of water trickles in-between.
The sun exists behind the darkest rain
a sheen
upon the puddles.
The draught, the seaweed hair, the pain
it's all a muddle.
Her fingers tracing out the woodboard lines-
Gravity beckons
with seductive call.
My mind grows twisted like the ivy vines
as I struggle to crawl up this living wall.
(She laughs,
pours another goblet full of wine
and drinks it all.)
I swish the liquid in my cup.
Her honey voice reminds,
Drink it up!
Instead I let the cup succumb to entropy.
the wine falls and mixes with the water trails.
Swirls,
fronts and behinds.
The voices in my mind
are leaving me.
The wine runs out, the goblet bottom pales
and fills with drop by drop of clearer stuff.
The water falling, soulless, never fails.
I pour it o'er my head
to drown out all the lies.
She's collapsed upon the cobblestones, as dead.
The cup tumbles to the ground, as from the skies-
I walk away instead.


"The Relevance of Haystacks"

Things become more relevant
when you understand
the feelings of a child-
-less so
when you're looking at the stars
or when you have your eyes closed.

Tastes begin to blend together
as do days,
memories.
Paychecks and happy meals
and other things of grave importance
drift away
fade into
hikes up lonely quiet mountains
childhood pacts
lovers.

If this haystack flows into a cotton-ball
and floats away
just take me home without
having achieved it all
I can wait another day.

Who knows
with one more breath I may be
stupid enough
crazy enough
to give up this addiction.

All writing © to author listed here.