Saturday, November 21, 2015

Indian Feathers

The heart wants what it doesn't and when it does you're fucked. The dark sky in Fall kicks back as winter blows into town somewhere but not here. I'm to far down South. I imagine she sits by a fire with him, tied up in ribbons and bows. Let me think that at night in bed she dreams of escape.

  There is a sting in my heart and poison in my veins. I want to remember  her smile and laugh and whatever.... it's nothing. I keep thinking back to the road trips and sex in hotel rooms. Just moving each other up and down side to side always there and  somewhere else.

  She kisses me and the stars shine. I wanted a religion where i could suspend my disbelief. I'm glad i can hear the sound track so loud in my head. I can hear my words as if they are being typed out one after other. I'm living in my life but not living it. A bad actor, to shy, to afraid to make a mistake or be embarrassed. Hide behind lines I've written days ago and keep coming back to over and over again.  


Sunday, November 15, 2015

words are for sleeping

im supposed to make myself want the money more
than bloody hands
and bruises
working fields or
sailing the seas.
She told me 
a Gentleman isn't gentle at all.

content to watch what life could
be like-- as you scroll scroll scroll
tick tock tick
sleep sleep sleep. 
stare at a thin layer of glass
in hopes to find your true love- or at least a true fuck
within that same thin layer
look for something to covet
to buy,
to be pissed off about.
hey, if you 
show me your best photo of yourself
ill show you mine
I'll put my words up against all the others
copy paste any biography
tell me something i haven't heard
any different game on some different night
all the same
just to help

Saturday, September 19, 2015

Grave Swingers - Shallow and Deep

god she was
trouble, trouble, trouble-
and i
did the drugs to close you inside
and i caught the rain to flood
you out
i kissed your knees
i licked your lips
trouble , trouble , trouble

cant find home
thought it was the waves,
thought it was the mountains
thought it was money and
sex and
the music on your playlist
just tell me you'd live
in my sound-track
and it's took me all these years
ive finally settled down
and im ready
to love
and youre

easy in the country:
woman to cook my food and clean
my clock
thought it was easy as it all
comes and goes 
time moves me
out the door
where the money flows
the blood flows
writing  was  wine
drunk e n 
rides on country back roads
promises made to be broken
bones in our skin
bones in the ground
we were
and it was

Monday, September 7, 2015

Half Life

    Time off from work last week and stole the labor day holiday too.  Back on the island it was bottles of rum and whatever seafood fell from the ocean. Sucked, Shucked and more drinks. Salt , Salt , Salt.  Must have biked the entire island. But you have to know good things aren't cheap, though the hotel stay on the beach was free from points on my Freedom card. Freedom- ha.
     Back to the grind, working out 6 days a week, 40 minute drives each way to and back from work. Me and this middle class work ethic- like every other addiction.  Whatever it is , will it ever be enough?
   I like sun-screen that won't rub off and smells like coconut and lime. I like my hair to feel sun-soaked and like straw at the end of the day from the boat and beach. Shower off and can taste the salt on my lips. Drip dry in the freezing cold air conditioned hotel room. Slightly rum drunk - as much a pirate as Ill ever be.  Pillage and plunder her.  

   I never give up on the possibilities of us. I live half my life here and the other half somewhere with you.  

Saturday, August 29, 2015

so , how's your life ?

summer won't end here seems to last forever.  I hear about your fall, your pumpkin
spice, your winter snow. It's just something in a song to me, something on t.v.

summer won't fade here, and now I made a mess of everything. even my memories of you are just faded scars. Can't bring back the best parts i thought i knew.  It's just a jerk-off once in awhile thinking back to fucking you. I guess thats something?-  but nothing to write about.


Just because your gone -I've been an wanted man
make my self pay by working to long
by carrying a gun, drinking all night
and havin' fun-
remember the nights we used to stay up late
you taught me how to write
like this
words in the mist
words that miss
miles and miles
reflective lies 
repetitive lines 
one road
leading back
to you .