vapor

only the hint of a scent
a memory buried deep inside
that pulls like a fish hook
in the mouth of the whale of memories
suddenly the sky is the exact shade
as it was that one morning
the trees smell fresh and new
as if sprung from the pages of a book
who painted this vista
on the napkin of past?
when the colors should have eaten through
long ago
why is it visible now
in frightening clarity
as if the past and present
have fucked through each other
and just like it appeared
it vanishes, leaving a thin wetness
like vapor

The Crunch

these dreams taste like blood
they wake me up with violence
it's that time of the night again
the edge of dreams and memories
i'm hurling through space
the void tears open my face
the stars spin like marionettes
sleep is just death without the grace

still i wait to sleep again 

curled up in my thoughts
that wrap around me like smoke
of my own burning
forced to close my eyes
dream of dim-lit rooms
grab on to a sliver of
a picture in my mind
who cares if my hands bleed
if i grin or scowl like a maniac
stuck to a day in my head
sucking dry the seconds

----
i scream, you scream, we all scream, life is horrible.

The Machine God Relents

A deep black silence shrouds the night
Feeding on the pain and misery
Of the broken few that dare
To step out, crippled by their fright

The slow rain never lets off in this city
Slick, damp, mold grows like hopelessness
High on the opium of hope and lies
The denizens deserve no pity

The sick clouds part to reveal a filthy moon
The dying of the ground in a slow heartbeat
Jaundiced eyes stare at their reflections
Wishing for an end, wishing it to be soon

The machine god has their name on his list
Marking them off one by one
He takes to pleasure or pain in this act
Of crushing lives in the palm of his fist
----

I don't know. I don't know.

slow burn

a matchstick stuck in an eternity
a flame painted on the face of time
dreams with carbon framed reality
strong as bones, brittle as twine
delusions are the flavor of the day
garnished with paranoia and fear
clouds smother the light
everything is clear
clear as the day
i first set my eyes on you
started this slow burn
fire become desire
I'd burn burn burn
again and again

The Game

The spineless angels
Play cards
On the cosmic table
While the world burns
In their absence
Their coffers
Filled with praise and adoration
Their glasses are always full
But they still can't get drunk
They flip the cards on the table
A game with rules
Passing time to ignore
The fate of fools
An ace there, a queen here
The joker's missing from this deck
In the larger scheme of things
A significant speck 

Who knows what nightmares 

Bubble in the heaping trouble

That brews in the corner 

Of the dark game room

Just lit by the fire

Of a slowly burning moon

whirlpool

a rush of images, sounds, tastes, and touch
a man can only take so much
before he violently shakes his head
like a dog to come back to the now

but the colors of the now are muted
there is no comparison to a dimly lit afternoon
like a Polaroid of a rainbow, frozen in time
something secret, just yours and mine

the whirlpool of thoughts has me in its grip
my heart on a slide and ready to slip
how can a few hours be such a trip
it's a high that keeps on giving

back in the now
my dreams are peppered
with everything you

butterflies

the words fly from his mouth
like insane butterflies
floating away on warm currents
of whispers that go unheard
he stands on a broken ladder
balanced on a rickety wall
he climbs a rung higher
to be heard by one and all
and the man speaks of truth
and lies and dreams and fears
of anyone who'd lend him
their attention and their ears
but people ignore him
just another madman
throw some food at him
maybe that will shut him up
but the butterflies still fly
invisible and light
they get tangled in the thoughts
of people passing by
another madman is transfixed
by this dance of butterflies
he falls in love on the street
with a girl who's passing by
as she brushes back her hair
all tangled with butterflies

grud

there is slavery in comfort
and comfort in slavery
who the fuck wants to go
and break bricks in this heat

the routine will be the death of me
even if I inject chaos in my days
wrapped in duty, am i really free
will i ever change my ways

who the fuck wants to be saved
by angels or demons or ancient gods
there is no truth, no lie, no promises
only a neverending road

and everyone walks

Gunk

Machines junk poetry

Scattered in the rain

The wires in your head now

Don't cause any pain 

Your rhyme schemes

Your time dreams

Drenched in old sweat

Recoil in horror at Father Time's breath

Random moments in a bubble

Atmosphere thick with trouble 

Hands of a clock tick tocking away

On the edge of wakefulness

Teeter totter sway

Gathering the words

Throw them in a bag

Stirring couldren of poems

A wicked old hag

And it's me

Always me. 

night and other perils

the sky is an open wound

festering with poison fumes 

they rise up in pillars of black

color the clouds in grey plumes

everything once alive

has withered and given up

the angels once proud

are sleeping in the muck

night is the final nail

in the coffin of humanity

exhumed, inhuman

it covers the sun

and in the darkness in the doom

the dreamers dream with eyes open

waiting for the stars

that have given up on us, too.

---

it's that kind of day, month, year. 

stillness

the stillness at the bottom of the sea
the silence at the bottom of a bottle
half my dreams i dream of drowning
others, twisting on a throttle

it seems like i am gnawing at my own foot
sabotaging my own ship
shooting bullets in the hull
while I'm far out to sea

will the fish eat my bones?
when I am done and gone?
will crabs hide in my skull?
and peek through my eyes?

The Nail

For the Want of the Nail
The Kingdom Was Lost.

~-`-~

absent kings
dreams undreamed
the poison on their tongues
now lives in the lungs
the world around them rots
cities burn and fall
the sky is color of ash
on the ground humans crawl
a new plague has found our bones
and sleep is a lost cause
the screams are loud and shrill
the nightmares never pause
the final nail is struck
deep into the wood
the violent world is silent
just as it should



---
i need to get back into this.

The Hammer - 2

ever tick is a hammer
hammering the nails
into the lid of the coffin where
i've put my skeletons to rest

there won't be a second coming
the dead won't rise from the ground
it's all worm buffet in the end
and the worms don't make any sound

but the tick and tock is louder still
heartbeats of a monster machine
it chips away the days and months
it crawls into my dreams

one day my bones will rust
into a powder white and black
and wind will spread the memories
till the ground cracks

lacerations

if it's not smoke blood and fire
could it be the end
if it's not dead disappointment and desire
could we still pretend

there is a perverse joy in
trying to wipe the slate clean
but the words bubble up from the bottom
ignoring everything we have seen

it sucks you down under
degrees of disjointed miasmic pain
the disinterest the conversations
spoken by deaf tongues

so the words are strewn
in gardens like the leaves
that come home after hurricanes
to be trodden under feet again
--
right swipe: madness

torn

a face torn from the bones
bones torn from flesh
a soul torn from the body
a body torn from a city

everything was given for granted
everything was so taken
when the sundering blade fell
all promises were forsaken

now the pain is a joke
that comes without a punchline
keep bleeding from the teeth
spitting blood, but it's fine

tear open another scab
what's the fun in healing
at least the wounds have a purpose
they give words to the feelings

---
gonna run this theme into the ground.

severed

the threads severed
with blades made of bones
one by one
they fell like tears of the sun

cracks in the walls
walls coming down
exposing the features
of a clown with a frown

the threads severed
his balloons float
away into the sun
seeking redemption

as the night fell upon
the dreams of the dreamers
trapping infinities
in the blink of an eye

---
Ever feel like you were going to explode?

rip

slowly i rip
pieces of my masks
tear up the strips
of skin
exposing meat
i am all red, yellow, and blue
under my skin
i am just like you
my bones covered in sinew
blood slowly drying
living, yet dying

--
Fuck it. I lost this somewhere.

incision

all it takes is one
incision
to dig the fingers in
poke around to feel
for what should have been
there
but the cavity is empty
like the graves of my elders
but what was i expecting
from this futile exercise
perhaps i should exorcise
this shell
to carve out a place
in my own private hell
why should i look outside
when i don't understand within
so i cut, slice, and prod
till i reach all the way in
in the end i will
eat myself if need be
even if my eyes are shut
i still need to see

---
There is a Stephen King short story Survivor Type. It's about a surgeon who is smuggling heroine in an airplane and he crashes on an island. It's horrible and amazing what happens next.

vacant

the house is vacant
there is no one inside
the wind whistles through the windows
rats are braver, they don't hide

the mouth of the door is wide open
exposing broken teeth to the world
even ghosts have left this sepulcher
an empty shell filled with memories

there used to be sunlight here once
when the world was young and colors bright
but now it's all monochrome
every day is colored with the brush of night

and here sits a skull
with a clock stamped into its third eye
that stopped ticking
a long fucking time ago

bumba

grind grind
motherfucker
eat that up
chew chew
then swallow
that's the cycle
fall in line
deep breath
everything is fine

Ugly

This bitter tasting part of me
hangs like a stone around my neck
This clown that prowls my thoughts
Like a belligerent speck
In my head everyone is ugly
If I see inside their heads
Consumed by their own greed and jealousy
Am I any different?
Maybe in their head
I am ugly, too
And while we play these mind games
Time is ticking and tocking away
Would I still be ugly tomorrow
If I were ugly yesterday?

curb kisser

a simple lip kiss won't do, sir
you need to French this motherfucking curb
open wide and give it your all
let the concrete ring the bell of your throat

breathe in the dust and dirt and the scum
lick it and tell how does it taste
close your eyes and let it sink in
through your nose, your mouth, your soul

think some happy memories, it's time
till you feel the pressure on the back of your neck
it rises and rises and then you'll feel no more
black clouds envelop you forevermore

--
I don't know, man. This just wanted to come out.

Eat The Water

the taste of water is an alien emotion
that sits in the back of my throat
like an uninvited guest
that refuses to leave
so i chew and i swallow
so i gulp and i follow
where the water pulls me
into places that can't be
through the haze of this maze
this subaquatic place
where the fish swim through my eyes
open in perpetual surprise
eat the water, keep it down
and become one
with the nothing
that haunts everything

chew

the hole grows bigger every day
while we feed it with neglect and apathy
the road grows narrow with the junk we collect
while the mountains run towards us at a snail's pace

the feet gather wounds that scar and scab
while the surface turns hard as the ground
the taste in your mouth is bitter as defeat
while you chew through the boulder you roll up and up

the dreams come and they're same as the night before
while you sink in the pseudo-comfort of familiarity
the life with eyes wide open is a wound that throbs
with the need that craves curiosity

the lock is on the door and it has no key
while blood seeps through the wood like tears of a dead tree
chew chew and chew some more on the mud of life
while the froth drips like poison from your lips

---
The four parts of this poem are all derived from my daily life, so yeah, you can say things are going great!

fathom

six fathoms deep
try to understand
if you can
sometimes
there are no answers
to questions that

      linger

unattached
rogue balloons
of words
strung by punctuation
a question mark
is a hook inside my heart

and while I am sleeping deep
below the white and blue
I will think of the question
and the answers I wish I knew

underwater

it all looks so different
swimming, slurred, shimmering
as I look up through the water
the sun is a bubbling blurred bulb in the blue sky

fish swim by me
their meat station
as the salt water
bleaches my bones

a house of bones
with no one inside
forever asleep, eyes wide open
with a grin that I can't hide

and if I dream, it will be water
filling me up, surrounding me
in darkness, in the cold
there is nothing left to feel

everything is cool
everything is calm
fish have made their homes
in the bones of my palm
---

Water theme, man. I am alright. I just find drowning a fascinating topic for poems. There is a serenity to the ocean, to be underwater, to stay there and never breathe air again.

to drown

to drown
is a dream
take me in
the depths
of your warm embrace

liquid mother
fill me up
I'll breathe you in
till we are one
and one are we

let me sink
in your love
hold me close
and break my heart
with your love

and then rip my skin
eat my flesh and lick my bones
bury me in your sands
at the bottom
like a stone

so I will stay for a thousand years
till the ships come
to idolize
my remains

Blue

the blue tinge in the sky
is rushing up to meet the night
as the moon floats inwards
on a boat made of stars

watching us kill, fuck, die
less than insects, more than gods
drowning in the gutters, seeking skies
pushing through, against all odds

the dark grey of night
is an orange hue of hope
awakening, enlightening
the power to cope

with the bullshit and the lies
as the teeth threaten to bite
with hate on their lips, rage in their eyes
we stare, we stare

at the turquoise-tinted skies

cluster

just beyond the line of sight
right behind your back
the demons crawl out with their knives
determined to attack

12 strong, telepathic tones
the monster gang is here
to kill
and not make any friends

inch by inch
the webs they spin
to keep the bodies
fresh within

no rot shall touch
their special prize
that they'll soon
eat from the eyes

in the empty sockets
they'll slowly make their nest
for they'll bring up tiny demons
and give them their best

--
It's 2 AM and I am feeling horrible. How's new year going ya shits?

A Gift

Out of a swamp
that thing has stumbled
into the night
that thing will mumble
words of wisdom
words of fear
what says that thing
for nothing is clear
it's filthy stinking
smelling like death
it crawls out slinking
drawing breaths
its nails are sharp
its eyes are black
its teeth are razors
there's a tail on its back
it roars and growls
it stalks and prowls
for things that hide
and things that ride
then in the jungle
this thing disappears
and in my dreams
it appears, reappears
i wake up screaming
my nightmares blue
the gift of thing
now i give to you. 

shatter

words clatter, tumble, shatter
against the frigid floor
the slithering sound spatters
sticking to the locked door

the world is but a shell
containing pain and horror
in this cauldron of fear
all emotions slowly stir

they are banging their bones
against the bars of their cell
they're all stuck alone
in their own private hell

it's not hot and it's not cold
it's a simple wet existence
for the young and the old
no scope of deliverance

the book of fate is closed shut
with a bang that still echoes
spilled ink, a pen lies broken
their secrets no one knows

teeth

the teeth are in my skin
ripping off chunks of my flesh
biting off, then digging in
if this is a game then i'm not going to win

even now i dare to dream
of a blistering summer sun
to lie down on the forest floor
and hear the rivers run

but the mad glint in the eyes of life
is sharper than the edge of any knife
there is no method to this chaotic strife
and the dissonance is rife

so i sit and focus on the teeth
that come for me again
i offer up my chunks of flesh
and ignore the pain


--
happy new year, fellow travelers.