Pull another Death card

I have no business

I’ve made that quite clear

But I’m still wondering

What lies beyond here

This bottle I’ve found

Is filled to the brim

With messages signed

In blood red penmanship.

The city wakes up

I open my eyes

These walls are filled with

Unsealed goodbyes

This letter I’ve got

Return to sender

I’ve not the courage

Or will to send her.

It’s 3 o’clock in

The fucking morning

These panic headaches

Come without warning

Now I just want sleep

No sleeping beauty

So when I lie down

Please keep my casket closed.

No kiss

Is worth

A thousand words

I know

So spare me the ritual.

This blind ambition

That I know so well

It’s superstition

Like Heaven and Hell

Now where’s that locket

The one I gave her

It felt so pure then

Like the last savior.

No one is perfect

I’ve made that quite clear

Still all this nonsense

Makes sense in the mirror

And when I throw up

It’s all of my fears

God had to go up

For us to burn down here.

So take this end and

Tie it to that beam

I weigh less than him

So it should hold me

And when I wake up

This’ll all be over

Pull another Death card

Rebirth and closure.

Nobody

Gets out

Of this place

Alive

Just promise me you’ll try.

Like puppetry two marionette

I took her to this art event

She took me to her motel bed

Like puppetry two marionette

We tangled up our strings

Her eyes were wide like Eleanor

Rigby she was fiction for

The life I’d led a year before

I hadn’t slept a wink

It’s comical how looks predict

The ludicrous and obvious

By circumstance we came to this

Offering by the sea

Her hair jet black like ravens beak

The padding of her size 6 feet

Lenore her name I said quite meek

This time then nevermore

It’s lyrical how time can tell

Who’s heaven sent and living hell

An angel with a broken bell

Knows liberation’s free

Sometimes I think coincidence

Common sense and saying yes

Are infinite never in jest

Like cherry blossoms we

Sell ourselves a dollar short

Make amends and then spring forth

Pink petals fall on the seashore

There’s no telling what could be

An accident a sign from God

A work of faith handshake or nod

They’re simply an illusion on

The pleasure box we see

The message spoke ten times before

By Poe and his dear loved Lenore

Like love’s the end all message for

Both poetry and speech

So I took her to the airline that

Disagreed with both our backs

I mean this with no disrespect

It’s how some people meet

We never spoke another word

Jumped back into the universe

I came to grips was late for work

And landed on my feet

The game is rigged the money’s spent

If I stay in bed too long

dreaming of the times gone by

There must be something wrong

like not knowing what is right

If I get up and get gone

still daydreaming in the morning light

There must be something wrong

because all I see is black and white

Out there on the road

passing frowns can’t weigh me down

Like songs from days of old

freewheeling there’s no time to tell

She’s been reaching for the sun

did all I could to take her there

Must be doing something wrong

like two children we’re still unprepared

To walk

on our own

As state signs blur

on the road

Yet all this time

we have grown

There’s still this

phantom partner feeling

though we’re on our own.

When you go there’s still coming back

don’t be extreme like who needs that?

There must be something wrong

for me to feel like this and that

She was going either way

it didn’t matter if I saved the day

There must be something wrong

for me to think or feel this pain

Standing in the setting sun

which blinds me now casts shadows on

Reflections on the windowpane

my doppelgänger’s staring back at me

If looks could kill I’d live

my malice spite all gibberish

God knows if I could commit

I’d probably muck it up like a little kid

Whose ball

hits the rim

It bounces far

time and again

The game is rigged

the money’s spent

Yet there’s this

faint glimmer of hope

like there’s a chance to win.

I’ll sleep soundly when I’m dead

Is there fear in your excitement

like a newly unearthed coffin

You can see it from a distance

like a nearsighted eye witness

It comes creeping through the window

you left open while you sleep

Like an unsuspecting victim

you roll over just to see

There’s a shadow in the doorway

sending shivers down your spine

Like a child on a big wheel

cup your hands over your eyes

When you finally build the courage

to admit you’ve lost your mind

There’s just air and heavy breathing

feels like you’ve got the shine

Now you’re choked up glass of water

who left on the kitchen light

And you swear there’s no one listening

still you check the corner twice

Cause it’s somewhere between 3 and 4

the hour’s devil’s prime

It’s the fear in your excitement

in the background of your mind

Monday morning tired pouring

rain falls cold upon your head

It’s a new day maybe Tuesday

I’ll sleep soundly when I’m dead

Wednesday Thursday afternoon

blurs into Friday I’m still wet

From the tears of Saturday’s gone by

Sunday’s a day of rest?

So don’t fight it just accept it

that to fall asleep is hard

When your dreams feel like the raven

and your mind a tell-tale heart

There’s a shrill cry in the alley

that you wish now to explore

It just proves that other’s trauma

spreads itself like works of art.

The saint in me is still a sinners son

I look at then

and I see me now

There’s people chanting

standing in a crowd

I wanna join in

try to help them out

But my mouth’s cashed checks

that just seem to bounce

Who be it that you try to believe

Who always turns into a parody

Now brush your teeth and try to behave

They’re all gonna hate you eventually

I look at then

but still see myself

Eyes wide shut

full of fear and doubt

She plucked the fruit

from the apple tree

As I stood staring

still I couldn’t believe

Who be it that you try to become

The saint in me is still a sinners son

Who be it that you try to believe

Now you’re all dressed up living a fantasy

I look at now

like she saw me then

All fed up

fist balled paper and pen

There’s dishes broken

on the kitchen floor

The serpent speaks

in tongues I can’t ignore

Who be it that you thought you saw in me

A break fix and used return policy

Who be it that I thought I saw in you

But what difference does it make there’s an election soon

poetry is spam

A large portion of

poetry is spam.

But I don’t eat that stuff,

at least not until I get to see Hawaii

then who knows?

I hear, fried with an egg, it’s good.

When in Rome, you know;

when in Rome.

the Devil’s Crossroads

Beware the desperate man

though he longs for love

keep in mind he only needs

a friend. And understand

the desperate woman

though pain in her virtue

there’s much strength

in her hand. So when at

the Devil’s Crossroads

wind whipped bodies bare

man and woman tremble

with nothing left to fear.

lovely pearls.

If you could put

everyone’s depression

in an ivory locked jewelry box

and free the world of self hate

anxiety, fear, despondency

there would no doubt be

someone hidden in daylights shadow

waiting, aching, yearning

and ready

to try on those lovely pearls.

— INSERT EXCUSE HERE —

So quite literally if you say

what is going to be my excuse today?

— INSERT EXCUSE HERE —

Now don’t do that.

Do everything but that.

Do every other thing

you’d rather be doing.

What do you got to lose?

The job you hate.

The credit you pay.

The fear you make.

It’ll all be there tomorrow.

So excuse yourself today

and see what happens.

Our Mind’s Eye

We mustn’t shy away from fear

but rather dive face first

into it’s claws letting it tear our flesh

from cheek to chin and gnaw

on our skulls if not only to

release ourselves from our mind

whose eye is so often filled with fear.