Bring me your all Paint me a picture of your dreams Nourish me with a meal made to awaken my tongue from a tasteless slumber Play me a song so pure and accurate Sway with me in your arms Your touch synchronizes my heart with the rhythm of nature Bring me your all Read me stories that once showed you the way Light my path and enlighten my mind Rearrange my understanding of importance Scold my naivete The power of your emotions ignite my sense of wonder Bring me your all Show me your pain with the intensity of your voice Present me with conflict Show me your anger, Show me your disappointment Give me your broken heart Strike me with fists of passion. Angry passion. I will not cower behind my masculinity. I welcome your release. Your pain will become ours and together we will Stand. Bring me your all Show me your scars where you learned to bleed. Rather, where you learned your resilience. Rise up and fight for whats right Teach me my voice makes a soung. BRING ME YOUR ALL
It is far better to dry the ocean and be at the bottom of the sandy sea than it is to rage against the tides hopeless, yet aimless, waiting for solace you fight, you splash, you scream only to be treading water for hours while you could have gotten a towel and then started drying the waters taking a while. But as the level lowers, and as you realize you're drowning either way, it was far better to aim for the sand that it would have been to rage against the tide
Lady Luck please don't let me down, I got three more months till I leave this desert town Here I sit up on my post keepin the wolves at bay They may think their top dog here, but now they are my prey. Lady Luck please don't let me down, You've got me this far, two months till I leave this ol shantytown Here I walk on the prowl for snakes down before me. With each step I take I clear the ground behind me. Lady Luck please don't let me down, Just one more month til I see my ol home town. Here now I fly high so I can look for danger up ahead. My badge of courage now soaked red, Lady Luck why'd you let me down, Now I lay six feet underground.
The creaking of the pines elicits icy shivers, like steel fingers raked upon a naked spine, pine needles quivering like jagged splinters jabbed into desperate thirsty veins Slivers of pain, slices of sorrow, glimpsed through the gaping cracks between the bark, as stark winds whisper then wail weaving twisted tales of ennui and despair Oh, the horrors they have seen while the sun giggles and gleams from her corner of the forest peering from her perch amid the heavens, her cackles seep into the earth to settle among the dirt and the decay As the emerald canopy leads the lost souls astray through the labyrinth of decomposing leaves, corpses cast off from the trees, disrobing before the fastidious eyes of their maker, undertakers laying out their palls for the weak and broken to bear
If one could fly away, Where could you go, Besides the sky to stay? If one could bike, Cycle into the skyline, Left foot fine, Right foot aligned, Thoughts fill my mind, The blind can read it. When you were fine, and I took the time, When you were mine, I looked life away. When you're five, You say goodnight, and you hope the same, for your final days. When you lie awake, Were the choices you made right: My private plane, My rightful place? My silent rage. She says you're mine, To another guy, Would I mind? I mean, I made no complaint.
Bob haircut got published, Bizarre letters, smudges, Writ incompetent failure. Box cutter and razors, Bomb shelter, Protect me from fears of, Awfulness and strangers. I don't believe in the merits, Photographer spouting nonsense, So are the product of his labour, Nonsense: the popular translation. In the end I saw nothing.
Ire infinite, by ignorance Life is not made by appearances, Science fiction or analyzing images. Ironic it should be so definite: Want of intelligence, talking skeleton, In the end an experiment of my own. Wind instrument requiring discipline: With a single word thy kingdom learnt, Like a little tiny recumbent bicycle, Not even big enough for one person, For certain, mine is life livable, But is the danger really worth it?
the santan dew crawls out of the stalk if you break it apart from the bush suddenly it burns brighter than dust small grand doors tiptoed to kiss their frames held by hinges, but try to reach north alas, their fates are back and forth there’s a somnolence to homes that are not yours holed with metaphors you never explored to tell your throat is for similes or possibly something else i wonder if wells hear wishes or if they are mere echoes of aired fulfillment perhaps that’s why the well water only gets to see the sky even if i bury my fingers beneath the soil, i am no root. even when i draw lines on the sand, i make no shore.
I write of simple, financial issues, Career moves, Careening doves living. Writing of her dimples; I can forgive, no substantial dispute, Education isn't a standard issue, Like flies striking a civilian, What little I know I know little of, And even that I misuse. An Odyssey of nonsense words, I write, Simple, my peers peer my finger works, Writhe in vigor, like flies in flight.
Last living lemming, No house to live in, No Chandeliers; Next exhibit, Next exhibition, Spoke of past tense in English, Fluent in other languages; An Eccentric Mystic, Poetic Lyrics, and their beginnings; One carves caverns, Of all manner of rock, What matters of master? The afterthought.
sycophantic silhouette stalks into the room and the woman who casts it brings death, immortal doom she bids disguise fall when the man sees her though never a dame, but bluegreenbrown eyes, same as you you, who lives their life by ritual, routine will never see the cold, red blood or the glistening sheen of sweat on the brow of a new, soft corpse or the embers of the flame that drive you north your cadence keeps you pliant, your rhyme bids you no further! what drove you to this, to poetry, to murder? as the blade bids adieu through the back of his skull and the red of his head grows increasingly dull and the light bleeds out of the sword in his eye ‘any woman can see him orgasm, but how many see him die?’