spilled thoughts – Page 7

2018-01-252024-10-13

When Melancholy Calls

Unrest written on the walls,

a restless sadness sewn into your marrow.

From composed to utterly anxious in a manner of seconds,

wading through nothing but pure darkness.

Madness, they used to call this.

Carrying past lives around like the photo of a dear departed lover.

The burdens of your ancestors, kings, queens, slaves, grandparents and parents – all the same,

rushing through you, blurring your senses,

buried in your very essence.

Search deep down and you can find it,

drag it out from the great abyss.

2018-01-022018-01-02

Know Me

I’ll drink your tears
dressed in leather, wrapped in latex

I’ll eat your fears
honey-glazed, garnished with blood and thyme

Build us shelter for the winter
burn the whole damn village down

Regarder-moi, je vais tout te devenir
et rien

(Photo of a self-portrait by Robert Mapplethorpe; Courtesy of LACMA)

2017-12-242024-10-13

We’re all the same,
deep down,
driven by fears or desires,
shrouded in different colored wrapping paper, called skin.
We’re all the same,
searching, scratching, yearning for
adoration, success, acceptance
breathing in conversations like second-hand smoke,
faces, names, all jumbled up.
We’re all the same,
repeating past mistakes,
breaking promises,
you can fight it but
We’re all the same,
trying, needing, hoping to
unknown ends,
finding temporary ways to
soothe sadness, heal hurt,
extinguish anger.
We’re all the same,
deep down,
dark insides tucked into
shiny sweaters,
downing wine and craft beers.
We’re all the same,
judge less, love more
listen.

2017-12-152024-10-13

Shed

Grab your keys
don’t waste your youth tied
to one place
one idea –
slacks and button-downs
Monday through Thursday
casual Friday
leave
take your lover
go see it all

(Photo featuring art by Barbara Kruger; courtesy of The Broad Museum)

2017-11-292024-10-13

Vodka, Whiskey, Gin – A Reflection

Vodka
First taste, first touch.
Long nights throwing up.
Hard lessons growing up.
Can’t say I’ll miss you all that much.

Whiskey
Tears and regret spilling onto hardwood floors.
Climbing out of taxis, searching for the love we all deserve.
Used to steady my soul (or so I thought).
The writer’s choice of self-destructive elixirs.

Gin
Bitter all the way down, ‘til you add olives and vermouth.
Held me up when I was but a husk.
Kept me together, kept me numb.
Pushed my body to the point of breaking.

All I’ve learned from these three, buried in my bones like hidden treasure.

Vodka, Whiskey, Gin – nearly a decade of love/hate, now it’s farewell, so long, our time has finally come.

2017-11-232017-11-23

Full Circle

lights

this is your story

love

no matter how hard you tried

couldn’t get enough

all wrapped up in

pain/pity

plated in glory

a crash, a bang

how IT all began

and nearly ended

spinning

glass flying through the air

out onto road

now you’re here

alive