Tense and rigid

An arctic dialogue

Indifferent and standoffish

Words thrown like darts

Sticking like super glue

Toxic and demoralizing

Like talking to a brick wall

Hateful and unemotional

Unraveling the anger

Removing myself

Wasting energy on you

Walking away

from your rigamortis breath

On the outside of the glass

Aphorisms ringing like a bell

Insensitivity weaves a cobweb

Vulnerability trapped in a

medical syringe

Harshness spoken with a sterile

and violent tongue

Commanding and demanding

Blatant and in bright lights

Waterworks flowing like a creek

Hearts awaken and cringe

An awkward silence creeps

Hoping love seeps through the cracks

seeking a mysterious ocean

I took a sharp turn

down dishonesty lane

and witnessed corruption

I went around the bend

to discover a narrow

jealousy road

After the tunnel I drove

a hundred miles on

a wide open faith road

I took a winding right

on the angry dirt path

I’m only fifty miles

away from Random Avenue

I was told I would see

Dancers, vigilantes, prostitutes,

and painters on the

brittle sidewalk

I would glance up at

shattered windows

and bronze slumbers

I will admit I was terrified

to travel down Random Avenue

and see the invisible scarecrows

Visualizing clenched hands to the

steering wheel feeling

the chaos and poverty

in the brisk air

*Say no to clowns had asked me to use
this title for Challenge

Beneath the clutter

and the discolored anxiety

the war between us continues

Engulfed by the

fractured promises

Gobbled up by the

untamed distance

Dwelling in the dusk

crawling through the

dark wild

Regurgitated phrases

of shades of love

Acknowledging the

hardened suffering

Stomaching the

patronizing goodbyes

Inhaling your desolate

and sinister perfume

Sucking and gulping

your mocking remarks

Withstanding your

arrogance and malicious core

Underneath the deceased

your stigma withers

I never saw

the heart strings you pulled

I never saw

the lies you borrowed

I never saw

the bedroom disguise

I never saw

the contamination

I never saw

your buried intentions

I never saw

the light on the center stage

I never saw

the script you wrote

I never saw

the truth revealed

I never saw

love drip from your lips

I never saw

this moment ever arriving

I never saw

you imagining you could walk away

I never saw

you so terrified and scared

I never saw

you using me

You call

yourself a friend

But you are not

One by one

Evidence is clear

Meaningless word

Slowly my contacts

are erased from

my mind that use

that word

Don’t worry

My friends are the

words that are here

before my

awakened eyes

I know where I

get the attention

that I crave

It’s from people

who don’t even know me

that see me in

a different light

I “connect” with those

that write from the soul

and the heart.

I can accept the loneliness.

Conclusions arrived
Mentally strange and delirious
Verdict is in
Deranged and unsound
Distinctly clear
Erratic and insane
Shining clarity
Unglued and unzipped
Opaque personality
Cockeyed and unbalanced
Dull as a pimple
You are my taint
An empty vase
Violent torn shell
Fanatical and laughable
Incompetent and childish
Demanding attention
Cruel and heartless
She’s the semen
Filling up the prophylactic

Strutting contradiction

spewing selfishness

Child like temper tantrums

dilute your balloon ego

Even the scarecrows

don’t want you

A strolling blood clot

aimless direction

A rambling anthrax

Mindless and foolish

Even the soulless

don’t want you

A marching eye sore

Belligerent and foul

A corrupted delinquent

Hop scotching bitch

Even the demons from hell

don’t want you

Check out my books!

Strolling down

Bleeding Havoc Lane

Counting the

shattered porch lights

Awakened by the

mountains of trash

Recognizing the last

names on the mail boxes

Falling aluminum siding

Mesmerized by the

paint chips

Boarded up windows

Awkward silence

Desolate skeletons

in the mourning closets

Tortured furniture

is howling at midnight

Roots below the ground

remain pessimistic

Only whiskey pours

from the ancient faucets

Slowly I pull up to the

street sign

Eyeing up the tape covering

the name

Tearing it off like it’s a sore


Burnt Memories displayed

Oh Poet the emperor

Shall I dive into your

18th century plagiarized manuscript?

It’s not as hidden as you

believe as educated as you are

I can read you like the pamphlet

Yes pamphlet – the size of

your sweet vocabulary

Diluted words of nothingness

Playing with Drama

Because you are the Queen

Not the King of Denmark

Despite the riddle you keep

reciting your manhood and strength

Keep taking a step further

with your playbook

I will rip apart and expose you

for who you really are

Lonely just the like rest

Minutiae among the minds

I’m a wounded prize,
Laced up in bitterness.
I’m a lethal injection,
Trapped in a empty bottle.
I’m a bullet from a war,
Only shot through my veins.
I’m a discarded black heart
Only seen in the shadows.
I’m the venom from the rattlesnake
Only to swallow with salt.
I’m a chill on my own spine
Only to stop from being numb.

Choking on self served dirt

Prancing in your delicate castle

Bantering with the jester

High regards as a princess

Pointing at the fabric

stonewashed character

Keep sipping on your ideals

Seeking hidden agendas

Removing the plastic

Only glancing not seeing

Interpretations of nothing

Creating a plate of something

Keeping sipping the cup of dirt

I could feel you tiptoe around the bitter conversation.
I breathe in your narcissism.
I juggle your perfectionism and wind of chaos.
I could feel you dig your nails into my flesh.
I am starving for your disappearance.
I balance your chameleon charm and mirrors.
I could feel you drag your feet toward the open door.
I am constantly tasting your immaturity.
I adjust to your outbursts and drama.
I could feel you slipping through my fingertips.
I swallow the pill easily knowing you are no longer here.

I fell in love

with a broken soul

I fell in love

with her sunrise and sunset

I fell in love

with her wild animation

I fell in love

with her wick and poison

I fell in love

with her sharp blade

I fell in love

with her sensuous magic

I fell in love

with her burnt threshold

I fell in love

with her over the top style

I fell in love

with her distorted image

I fell in love

with her scrapes and bruises

I fell in love

with her brightness and mind

I fell in love

with her alluring voice

But her words destroyed me

and left me in emptiness

on Cabrillo Avenue

Forgive me if I speak the colors of truth
Forgive me if I stare into the painted sunset
Forgive me if I stand to close to the walls
Forgive me if I walk alone on the trails
Forgive me if I view myself as a whirlwind
Forgive me if I ramble in my head
Forgive me if I notice you don’t care
Forgive me if I see nothing in my future
Forgive me if I bottle up what you can’t see
Forgive me if I vent my frustrations to myself
Forgive me if I tell myself it will all be ok
Forgive me if I just keep to myself
Forgive me if I die and no one is at my funeral

The quiet man is a cerebral hunter. The quiet man gravitates to the intellect. He is absorbed into observing and memorizing behavior. The quiet man is a visionary. The quiet man is complex and fascinated with the dynamics of relationships. The quiet man values quality not quantity. The quiet man sees the world through others. The quiet man seeks purity. The quiet man seeks beauty in all; perhaps he sits silently in the distance. The quiet man seeks simplicity in the complex. The quiet man is methodical and artistic. The quiet man is an optimist and embraces the warmth of humans. The quiet man is not a perfectionist. The quiet man admits when he is wrong and does not judge. The quiet man believes in the phrase “I can”. The quiet man sees the value of stages: growth and the truth. The quiet man reaches for spirituality. The quiet man has high standards and is goal oriented. He believes in equality. He is captivated by harmony and the melody of humans. The quiet man is viewed as an anti-socialist by others, a volcano ready to erupt. The quiet man defies social labels. The quiet man is blind by color, but can clearly see ignorance. The quiet man does not have the answers for everything, but only has perception. The quiet man does not like drama or self-pity. The quiet man is ambitious. The quiet man is shaken by intimacy. The quiet man is disturbed by his emotions. Perhaps the quiet man is tired of how he is viewed and labeled. The quiet man is not quiet. Perhaps no one listens to the quiet man, and how could they? The quiet man’s tongue is burning. The quiet man’s perception of himself is mediocrity. When the quiet man speaks, heads turn. People ignore the quiet man. Nobody cares what the quiet man has to say. He knows how he is viewed and would like the change that perception. As much as he tries to change, the label sticks. The quiet man is invisible. What is the quiet man to do? The quiet man is speechless. The quiet man is patient. The quiet man does not want to be the center of attention, but just to be noticed for something else than being quiet. The quiet man is misunderstood. The quiet man is not superficial. Perhaps others are wearing a mask. Perhaps the quiet man is afraid of what others will say when he speaks. Perhaps the quiet man just wants to be himself and be accepted for who he is, not a label. Perhaps we are all labeled in society from the minute we are born; from each stage of life that we enter. Someone gave you a label and it stuck. The reality is that every one of us is different. We are who we are and can’t change that. We like what we like and dislike what we dislike. The minute we speak of it, we are judged not for who we are, but interests. People bond due to interest in general, not for how we approach, live, and manage our lives. Perhaps the quiet man just wants to be accepted for who he is…doesn’t anyone care what the quiet man’s perception is? Maybe if we dug beyond the surface of people, everyone is beautiful in some small way. We all have quirks hang-ups, baggage, skeletons in the closets, and that really shouldn’t matter. Does that define who we are? No.

I can’t tell

If I’m lost

or if I’m just not found

I can’t tell

If I’m confused

or if I’m in a fog

I can’t tell

If I’m the enigma

or if I’m missing pieces

I can’t tell

If I’m scared of myself

or just want to be hidden

I can’t tell

If I’m in a movie

or my reality is dramatic

I can’t tell

if I’m an introvert

or I just enjoy being alone

I can’t tell

if I want to live

or if I’m content being alive

I’m a blurry train wreck
I’m the bottom of a pit
I’m the black ice in the winter
I’m the darkest rain cloud
I’m the sting from the bee
I’m a fading car crash
I’m the dust on the ground
I’m the tears in my lonely eyes
I’m a distant social disease
I’m the monster under my bed
I’m the skeleton in my closet
I’m the spider creating my own web
I’m the tarantula in the desert
I’m the demon in my soul