just coondensing some of my poems , so they don t get lost.
Too damn early
my teeth drag me to the sink
begging to be scrubbed and awakened,
the seals of bubbling cleansers breaking upon my fingers
falling is the cap
constricting is the tube
unleashed comes the paste,
a whirlwind of balance totters at my mind
instructing my nervous system to just focus and scream.
instruments long and bristled
marching to the exposed bone
polishing away the grime
the carcasses of nourishment
refreshing the breath that carries me to the shower
why the hell arn't I under the covers.
My Smiling Cock
I looked in the mirror and saw my cock smiling at me
laughing its head off
layer upon layer its skin keeps it vibrant and moving
growing and regressing
never wanting to make up its mind.
Everytime I find ways to bundle my cock up it gets tippsy and throws up inside my friends.
What a simple pal
going where ever I go shying away inside my boxers yet never throwing a punch.
Time to toss its ass in the shower,
boy I would be in trouble if it decided not to follow.
Morning
The morning is madness,
my eyes open and they scream.
dried is the residual that once coated my dreams
now frozen upon the torture of daylight.
The sleeping of my mind shutters and trembles
hypnotic is the punch of reality that throws me into a streaming shower of water.
now purified for the day
I am in a fit of dillusionment.
Stuffed
The suture is best for when you want to keep it all safely stuffed in.
I don t realy mind if I fall all out.
I can drop to the floor leak down the walls
or sing running away from the gooey kiss of life.
Mending is not needed when there is no need to be perfect.
Take the jurisdiction of your words and the purity of the hypocrits laughter and shove it up your ass.
The time for your perfection has passed and all that is left is the skin that coats the word "me'
We who are real, we who are stained, need not cower away from those who make us suffer. Instead we need to just stand and let you cherish your own revelation of perspiration.
For I am not backing down. I am not healing. and by all my gods laughter I sure the hell refuse to reform.
Rampant are my bruises for they coddle me, protect my own interests and let me lay free without the burden of your approval.
Needed is not your form , needed is not the true tenor that makes up the accusational pitch of your voice.
Instead I dare you to sink in your chair and bear it, as I look into your eyes and say FUCK YOU.
Well thats that, sorry if you see some you have already read, ubt I didn t want to lose them, so one in a whole I ocndense them.
Sometimes I like to put them first in their own thread because this way you don t have to read through all the other stuff.