Tag: Poetry

• March 23, 2005

  Ghost

  I arrive under the limelight
  through the front door
  in Amish attire
  as they flutter under shadows
  through the backdoor
  like panicked roaches.

  Their sheen platinum hair and jungle of twinkling jewelry
  reflect their lavishly grinning ivories and provocative delights
  but not my inquisitive eyes
  as they and the euphoria and the lights drag
  closely behind and fade
  from my reach.

  Even if they didn’t see me,
  I’m still alone, isolated in this place.
  My own humidity warms my blood
  and blurs my vision
  as I mend my wounds
  with injurious spirits.
• March 22, 2005

  Sarah’s Sweater

  Her crimson and violet streaks
  of long flowing locks melt
  into the striped cotton sweater hugging
  her curvaceous entity.
  Her firm chest rises foremostly,
  and her round backside flaunts
  the washed-out denim jeans pressed
  warmly against her milky flesh.
  She raises a glass of Guinness
  in honor of St. Patrick
  as I admire how her snug attire accentuates
  her already-enthralling curves…
  Oh! And she says something, but
  I didn’t hear.
• March 19, 2005

  My Reflection

  hands

  &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp as smooth as a baby’s

  &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp without any prints on the world

  eyes

  &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp as shut as a baby’s

  &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp unable to renounce the shade

  cheeks

  &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp as fat as a baby’s

  &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp drunk off his mother’s teat

  lips

  &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp as lame as a baby’s

  &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp unable to pronounce his desires

  feet

  &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp as weak as a baby’s

  &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp without any prints on the world
• March 19, 2005

  The Most Annoying Person

  She rambles
  about her brunch with her boyfriend,
  where an audience of eyes rolled
  to their chalkboard-scratching howls.
  I nod nonchalantly
  with ears content
  with the hum of the A/C
  and eyes hungrily searching
  for a diversion to break
  her rubber band bind on me,
  but everybody walks through
  as though we’re ghosts.
  When the building’s silent,
  save for her predictable and perpetual bile,
  I feign interest in the browning plants,
  because to look at her spotty face, as rank
  as the dissonance her mouth excretes,
  will compel me to debate
  whether the debt of murder
  is a better bargain than this.
• March 17, 2005

  Five Years Later…

  My memory of her has survived
  the annual tempests in which I purge
  myself to squelch her image
  from my mind, each feature
  she possessed (without equal) still intact
  (particularly her green eyes).
  Although I now offer my heart to others,
  my soul belongs unequivocally to her,
  whether she’s noticed or not,
  and should she appear at my door,
  I’d throw everybody else I love into the abyss.
  and present what I’ve reaped from them as an offering to her.
• December 13, 2004

  Bleed

  I poke in dabs but never drip a drop

  of worthy words. They’re either flat or pitched

  so high they sound like teenage rage. They flop

  in seas of wavy thoughts and points amiss

  in imagery as though begot atop

  a flight with opium’s guidance affixed

  inside my brain and never hit the spot

  I hope to bleed. I sorely need a kiss

  from muses with subtle features not lost

  in gaudy game to escape words that give

  away the meaning leaving me the shame

  of airy thoughts unfocused and untamed.
• December 8, 2004

  Transformation

  Before me stands a kid about five feet
  with innards burning red and violent green
  hidden beneath a face of baby pink.
  Released from his shell, given second birth,
  he devoured loved ones like they’re dessert
  and with hasty fists destroyed the world.
  He leaps from the cracks into Heaven. Pain
  he begot bleeds into me and inflames
  my heart. During my nap he stole and ate
  the world. Through jaded eyes I see his fate
  belongs to me. I claw for strength
  to kill the devil I grudgingly face.

  The world trembles fearfully underneath
  me as the tide leaps up to reach the peak.
  My eyes shine with the tint of nature’s green
  and golden locks weave through my seams.
  The sun’s eclipsed as Light engulfs me
  and within me the sky and the sea meet.

  Now ready to face the devil I breathe
  solid spirit fueled by losses he brings.
  Ahead some paces on ground with firm feet
  beating his chest, he’s waiting for me.