Question ( excerpt from variations on emotional suicide)

i lay still.
motionless
as a newborn child
curled in fetal position~
but my mind races.
tormented by the thought
of what i can't control.
wondering if we still beat as one.
i long to hear the sound of your voice
telling me how much you love me
need to be near me...
how you need to held
and nurtured like a raw diamond.
it never comes first from your lips~
leading me to think of the day you'll say
no more.
so i put on my mask and pretend
to be truly happy
when what i really need is honesty...
but each time i reach for you
you're not ready.
when?
when can i tell my heart it's not a casualty?
when can i say that it's good for something
other than crying for you?
should i wipe away the dreams of yesteryear
to make my emotions wait on a verdict?
funny...
you seem so content...
or do you question my love also?

mistuh briefcase man

four fifty-seven,
the taste calls
like open mouthed
baby vultures~
pushing his addiction,
checking his decency,
running
to the sordid object
of his insatiable thirst.
catch him if you can,
judge him if you must,
but his tell tale
deviance
serves as stage left
for the entrance
of miss right.
seedy rooms,
transformed
and transfigured~
the musky smell of love,
overbearing and tart~
lend themselves to the predestined
flicker
snuffed out by sweat,
cologne and cheap moscato.
two ruby reds
engulf five that's called nine
and he watches
while the inches disappear.
face down,hair tossed...
all he desires
is the fruit of her labor.
a chocolatte dream
pulled from the underbelly
of fortune five,
she tastes so good~
his secret from the hood.
yet this clandestine
copulation
is far from pristine.
she gives a fake moan,
takes the prick from the prick
and dreams of six figures
as his seed grows.

the calling

tally ho,
and away i go,
delving into the cream
of my twisted
cerebellum.
from the moment of open eyes,
out of the canal,
the rhythm,
beat,
eight oh eight kick
that propelled me
was out of sync.
two score and seven
dance the jig
dubbed confusion~
a tight little step
which calls on
spectral visits
long since forgotten.
RRRIIING...
it's your pathetic life calling.
RRRIIING...
answer,demons can't dial~
or can they?
hello?
black suited
messiahs,
from a messianic mind,
present themselves
in leather and lace.
their search has ended~
upon me they place the mantle
of multiple gifts.
my eyes burn,head pounds
as the installation
is completed.
...now hardwired for delivery.
singed wire,
hanging lifeless in my presence,
contradict my beliefs,
yet onward shall my march
to immortality continue.
an afterglow~
turn thy face
for he is
the one.

getaway

she knew they needed time
away.
life had become
the same old tic-toc,
around the clock,
rat race for years now.
so they packed,
found a sitter for the twins
and drove out
to the lake...
the cabin hadn't changed
besides a few cob webs
and moldy smell.
she watched her better half
saunter to the ice box~
he turned to her,
with a grin on his face
and a cold bottle
of rose let's make love
in his hands.
...and that they did.
with an intensity
never experienced,
they engulfed
carnal pleasures
long since forgotten.
the taste of her lips,
the sound of his mounting passion
carried them to a plateau
inhabited by dreams of dreams
and jasmine scented
arrivals.
it was as it should be.
the both of them happy once more.
as they lay entwined,
dazzled by the masterpiece
sprawling before them,
he began to cry.
she had instructed
that he only bring two bullets
for the old revolver...
this would be their last
sunset.

take me with you

mama nem
said there'd be
days like this...
but those alloted to me
have turned sour.
wax mold smeared
into permanent stains
which exhibit my disdain.
that's why it came
like a blessing it did~
that beam
of salvation
pulsating with a power
that sang to me
in tones of tomorrow.
i longed for this entity
that would be my transition
to a better life...
anything would suffice.
yet this tube of tribulation
brightened the night sky
as day
and turned my angst
into anticipation.
i was lifted up high,high
smiling as my worries faded
into the ever shrinking chaos
that lay behind me...
until a booming horn sounded,
sending my wretchedness
cascading once more to reality.
i never saw them again
after that.
stories and stories of stories
increased my confidence for naught.
...so i search the skyline
at twilight
hoping for another glimpse
of deliverance.

400

from mt olympus
you ascend,
feeding the eternal
flame of wanton lust
embedded in the minds
borne distaff.
a creation of perfection
sculpted intent~
molded specifically
to prevail.
indeed dost thou evoke
fables of yore
that burn and yearn
for release
through taciturn
words turned rogue.
a machine...
nay a masterpiece
given to mere mortals
for the sole sake
of glandular endearment~
twofold
climactic swoon
and burdened beast
of war.
dare we partake?
this flesh,
this man,
this canonized
illusion
authorized to reality.
chiseled stone
filled with emotions
poured to brim
from empowered hands...
watch over us
in magnificent splendor
as we cast our gaze
away. inspired by Walter Parada

upon the eighteenth hour

shrieks and shouts
the shakes
of tongues on fire...
held captive
watching,waiting
for that purple sky.
all consuming chaos
obliterating the masses
to the sound of swords
slicing succinctly
through sinew and skin.
pulling forth amazement
before the uplifting begins,
four horsemen take the forefront.
steel ablaze with the atonement
for sinful delights
made fleshly
with carnal knowledge.
death,destruction
where art thou?
can the evidence of things unseen
survive a slap so furious?
oblivious to the meaning,
creation regurgitates
a lie to make the truth
look like a lie.
turn away
lest the ground engulf those
whom swallow the red drink
with glee.

midnight in the candy shop

can i
lick the bowl
and savor
each delicious mouthful?
tracing the lines
which capture my fancy,
i slide south
and slither
my taste over mountains
of cocoa~
sugar free?
i scoff at the mention
of such absurdity.
the sound of your moans
call to me in luscious tones
that threaten
to pull the cream forth
before time...
we shall not partake of that dance.
my sole purpose
is to dine
on platters of pleasure
while a hungry libido
tangos with your sticky
french kiss.
undulating waves of yearning
grip you
and toss caution aside.
do you mind
if we entomb ourselves
in the euphoria
of delights
only our entangled love
can conceive?
liquid ecstasy,
falling like sugar,
spills into my eager throat
and you exhale your soul
for scrutiny.
the softness i meet upon entry
is a masterpiece
of confectionery art.
we gleefully writhe
in unison...
our recipe complete
but not yet fulfilled.

the plastic army man samba

wind me tales
of stormy skies
filled with chaos and mayhem
gone mutant...
bedazzle my psyche with the hymns
dripping with valor
sang by men
covered in burgundy wine~
chests poked in pride
and prejudice.
i'll lend an ear
and intently surmise
while the canvas
undulates and weaves,
birthing the story
only a select few are chosen
to paint.
through the half blind madness
i hear screams,
cries,
the laughter of trigger men
gone insane.
sips from a canteen
drowned in jack
to drown out the attack.
under fire from winged demons
dropping black eggs of death.
the spray of severed digits
and squish of torn flesh...
while commanders bark
from towers of ivory,
oblivious to the living hell
that consumes.
tell me a tale
of buxom bosoms,
heaving in the cool of night
as the need to forget
rears it's toothy grin.
an angel
bought for five dollars,
tells you how handsome you are
as another waits his turn...
back to the valley
for another game of chance.
one orb was expendable,
dare you live without both?

cereal mayhem

epidermis raw~
a nightingale hums a melancholy
tune
while steel kisses flesh
in a demented dance
of frenzy.
hurry...they must not know.
a sordid
lust
released to prowl the atmosphere.
chains gone,
desire heightened,
hunger ravenous.
type B flows like a river wild~
undulating its way
from the precision induced
slices
which incite panic
in granny smith.
a sordid smile sneaks
across filthy canines
as lucid images of torture
tantalize
his
libido.
once is never enough...
a climax
embalmed with the stench
of yesterdays souls,
seeks rebirth.
parched brain cells
call out,
with gaping wounds,
at a new twilight
filled with endless possibilities.