JRNLS

crystalline skies
and a secret obsession with romance
the monster is dead
at the hands of the sailor
silver waves striking back
with a fear from below
bristling and lonely the silence ain’t golden
when the children they don’t make it home
and the poems that are read
at the side of the bed
are manifestos to murder their own

glory, glory

raise up black hand of doom
return the winter’s ale
swallow the secrets of man
and hold yourself in the scent of betrayal
white roses for the king and queen
white roses on empty streets
the riot squad is on it’s way

take off your head and assimilate
please cautious child
standing tall on a river of bones
skipping dreams o’er flowers of freedom
we are your suicide
we are your last call queens

sensations
sensations
sensations
sensations

you were told to save tomorrow
put your pants on your head
smile at the camera
black and white humility
i can’t help but think we’re doomed
i’m pretty positive i left the oven on
why is there blood on the calendar
marking days of wrest
these two nickels can’t make me rich
but that junkies promise
has made me feel proud
this is a psalm
dedicated to the only girl i never loved
she told me i was wrong
i told her i was gone
now we dance 

reckless is the child
who believes chaos is warm and fuzzy
serpentine the dances behold
an artistic freedom better left to church going midwives

lonely is the king
who preaches of bloodless conquest
horsemen on wheels brag still
society acts the void, swallowing again the thieves parade

desperate is the drunk
who counts the alley way lights
hooded fury - paint covered hands
we all know Dillinger wore it in pink

blessed is the deceased
who sleeps with insulated sins
fact checked and docile
wondering if democracy is real

see you on the under side

the morning light glazed
dictating focus in the first degree
a magnificent plume of the artificial
“call me the prodigal son”
or your first kiss after the rain
tumultuous and wry
the last stop never came
riding in circles of plaid regret
losing is the new questionnaire
just don’t pay for the soundtrack

I’m doing what I do today because of what I didn’t finish yesterday.

i meant to paint the pilot
red, for passion ‘n despair
with a gold shadow
  and to mark the fertile nature
     of the beast
legs crossed and hungry
i meant to clean her back
the dance beats didn’t help
that carnival is my everyday
   i meant to paint it black
       because why not?

wild eyes and cliff notes
rollerblades and south water 
leaking a middle earth depression
heaven isn’t what it used to be

Thank you.

“crash and burn”
i said to the doctor
shivering and queer he laughed
“i haven’t seen one of these since Nam”
his nose started bleeding
i put on my shirt and left
anyone know a good doctor in the city?

in the order we wanted
there was nothing
so we bought the ideas
and separated the soil
we went to bury the bones
dressed for a Sunday drive
singing songs that never were
and at exactly 63 mph
threw our hair through the glass
we walked away with minor wounds
and a better understanding of life

swollen and sorry
alone on the road
jack-knife
pants down
targeted
you surrender 
when I surrendered

open but empty 
the signs on the wall
trigger finger
past lives 
and happiness
you pretended 
that I pretended

we are nothing 
without our failures

i wanna swallow the sun
i wanna sell your disease
i wanna climb into the underground
and start over

i wanna, i wanna go
i wanna rename my friends
i wanna be your slave
and dance all night

like i told you before…
black clouds can’t ruin your party
if you don’t invite the town