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I knew what time he left
I knew when she’d be sleeping
I knew what room she slept in
I knew she was a “A” student

And I knew too much

I knew she loved Shaw a lot
I knew his wife would be gone
I knew when she’d be back
I knew his wife used to dream about me

And I knew too much

I knew she use to want me
I knew every room in the house
I knew where his gun was
I knew that she didn’t love him anymore

And I knew too much

I knew he would never find her
I knew if I took her he wouldn’t suspect me
I knew it had been five years since we talked
I knew everything about him

And I knew too much

I knew everything about his family
I knew he had a gambling problem
I knew what he loved the most
I knew what he didn’t know

And I knew I owned him

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Never wake a panther
Never turn the screw
Never manipulate me
Never toy with my ego
Never sell myself short

Never will I lend you money
Never leave your daughter alone
Never leave your door open
Never leave your keys in the car
Never be so naive

Never talk behind my back
Never have sex with my wife
Never tell me where your gun is
Never show me the sharpest knife
Never show me your cards

Never spill the blood
Never turn your back on me
Never spread rumors
Never make a critical bet you can’t pay
Never disregard your debt

Never betray your best friend
Never doubt my words
Never cross my path
Never walk from my shadow
Never tell me your secrets

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Seconds passing
Minutes standing still
Speechless under the noise
Pitter patter of footsteps

A December day etched
Thirst and hunger clench
Six inches of snow
Slightly above ten degrees

Waiting for him to punish me
For something I don’t know
Trying to shape the pupils
Never thought I’d be in shackles

Darker and darker
Colder and colder
Starving and thirsty
What harm did I do to him

Constantly wondering
Wondering if I will wake up
Will I see tomorrow
Will I see the morning light

No sense of time
Will I see my boyfriend
Will I see my father
Will I ever see anyone

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I once knew serenity as I nibbled on your earlobe. I once knew the sounds of waterfalls as you inhaled my existence. I once stood behind the shadows of affection as you stumbled in silence. I once saw the tormented mist in your gut wrenching eyes. I once fell madly in love with your naval and collarbone. I once knew the honey oozing off your tongue. I once knew the lilacs and daises shining under our secret garden. I once knew the meaning of love when I saw you blush. I once cared for your everlasting lightning soul. I once saw you seeking truth in the gravel. I once fell in love with your fireworks. All I can see is your tormented mist in the dark where we use to be close.

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If I could run away

I’d join a flying circus

Chat with the lions

Chant with the crowd

Joke with the clowns

Dance with the acrobats

Crawl with the trapeze artists

Hide with the magician

Wrestle with the roar of the tiger

Walk with the Bear

Fall in love with the sideshow

Sit between the caramel apples

and the cotton candy

If I could run away

It wouldn’t solve any of my problems

Check out my books!

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The fables between us
Satirical metaphors prance
The ironies bleed pretty white lies
Sarcasm bursts like ejaculation
Covered in Satan’s thick liquid
Storybook pages stick together

The fables between us
Sardonic recitals
Recited by jesters and
Ponies dance in time while
His portal opens to swallow us all

Sadistic hymns
Written by gargoyles and
Unicorns prance in the clocks while
Her throat opens to consume the tale

Sadistic hymns
Hummed at Sunday Mass
Panic the court and
Constable is lighted aflame

Tarnished fairy tales
Scripted by euphoric lovers
Dripping sweat lingers in the air
Scent of religious perfume
Lurks between the satin sheets

Tarnished fairy tales
Playwrights
Tragedians
Star-crossed nothing
But sky
Moonlight paints you
Angel white and me
The daemon

Stonewashed dogma
Doctrines drenched in your spit
Undressed teachings
Relentlessly misinterpreted
Forgotten verses
Lyrics shredded
Constantly concaved
Staring into the phantasm
Sucked in by your gospel

Stonewashed dogma
Canon loaded
Peace be with you…

Kindra – Italics

Check out her blog if you haven’t! It’s always fun to collaborate with Kindra!

Braeden – Non Italics

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Sweet brown sugar
Habenero pepper on her lips
Invigorating serene eyes
Dashing wild smile
Intellectual stimulating
Culturally educated
Admiring her heritage
Embracing her history
to build a brilliant future
Desiring your seductive mind
Appreciating the center
Itching to just be beside you
Absorbing your presence
Thoughts of you are magical

by on

He traded a Jose Canseco

baseball card for a catchers mitt

He gave his best friend twenty bucks

to ask Robin Metzger out for him

He took his graduation money

to purchase a car that lasted 8 months

He took an ounce of weed

to college to bribe his teacher

He asked his cell mate

for a pack of cigarettes

He got out of prison four years later

and had no clue where he was

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I’m caught between syndromes and prescriptions. I’m slipping in the separation of loneliness and sadness. I have fallen in the hands of broken angels and laughing demons. I can feel the down pouring melancholy fill up the emptiness. I sulk in the fields of depression beside wishes and painted dreams. I’m sitting in the middle of insomnia and awakened tear drops. I watched the clown die on the inside. I stood on the outside of the circus and saw the crowd. I will always be on the outside looking in. I’m surrounded by beliefs and stuck in oppression. I’ve dug a grave in my creativity. I wear sensitivity on my sleeve. I can’t remove if I tried. I want a blanket of love that’s never been made. I seek a yearn that doesn’t exist. You will feel the craving when I’m gone. You will be on the inside finally looking in. The puzzle will be complete. I don’t belong on this earth. I want to lay beside Dylan Thomas and Allen Ginsberg. Read between the lines.

by on

Staring into the

desolate snow globe

watching my brittle

tears howl from the chair

Craving novacane for

my anorexic heart

Gravitating to the infection

that is soaking to

my sensitive past

Refusing to retrace

my footsteps of

Chestnut street

Tangled ghosts weave

through out my

strewed mind

Only to see a glimpse

of a debilitating disease

Concentrating on the

disappearing inner tyke

Becoming a nomad within

Placing my hands in my

ragged and faded jeans

trying to capture the light

of playing hopscotch

No matter how many times

I seek the clarity and purity

of my jagged youth

Chestnut Street is just a sign

on a ten foot pole

*Laurel has asked me to use this street name for the Challenge.

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The stench will never disappear. I sit here in agony replaying the years in my head. I stare into the pitch black and contemplating the decisions that I have made in my colorful life. I was a jester. I have discarded all the useful cards in the deck only leaving myself with only a few to hold in my tired hands. I steer away from the root. I run away from the tears that refuse to see the sun. I was the fool in believing in the word forever. You took me for granted. I took you for granted. You didn’t have the ability to own up in your own mistakes. You chose to be stagnant. I thought I was the infant in this relationship. I took my vows seriously. My heart is full of mush, layers of sensitivity, and the cream you find in the center of a donut. I wanted more. I craved depth. I took responsibility of my actions. I stumbled away shapeless seeking the truth. I am a lost soul. All I can see is a twinkling light. I will find my way out. If there is one thing I do well it’s being persistent. Nobody will tell me I can’t do something.

by on

She has eyes like the sunrise

and deep scabs like diamonds

She has darkness in her clouds

and she could see the light

She has everlasting dreams

and tenderness in her veins

She has discolored nightmares

and the blood drips from her wounds

She has beauty in her mind

and fears up on a shelf

She has loyalty in a grip

and dedication on her sleeve

She has a glass world of love

and sensitivity woven in her skin

She has purity in her voice

and gentleness in her spirit

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Behind dreary and restless clouds

She writes under a vivid pseudonym

Disguised and distinguished to the brim

Covering every inch of the tapestry

Dressed up in lavish innuendos

Only wearing a sheath of tingling dismay

Sewn and stitched to the eyelashes

Carefully placing a bookmark on page 98

A writers block glued to the forehead

Paragraphs trapped in a corridor

A preface floating in a cylinder

Guided by penetration and fantasy

by on

Roaring parking meters

Stoplights slurring

Traffic jams sound like an arcade

Vendors flipping dollars

Counting change in thin gloves

Smiles parading like a festival

Inhaling the scent of hot dogs

Car doors slamming

Taxi cabs galore

Newspaper stands hand shakes

Concrete greetings

Tap dancing on pavement

Bartenders barking like a pit bull

Candy shops humming sweetness

Downtown in a ornament

Brick walls glaring spray paint

Little Anthony circling fire hydrants

Simone shouting obscenities

Dimes shoved in a jukebox

Ingredients of simplicity

by on

Florescent wildfire

A scattered chill

Ignited by your tongue

World class enthusiast

Lessons learned

Sincerely apologetic

Exposed to your

magnetizing glass world

Sensing fragility

But armor and strength

Cherishing every second

Recording your laughter

Questions compiling

Curiosity rises

Raising me to the clouds

Wishing for three more hours

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Untamed and unforgettable

Ripple effect spreads like a disease

Lip licking and chomping

Like a wounded dog without a collar

Even your shadows cry

All you do is scratch

Tick tock…

Chasing traumatized winds

Clotheslined by barbwire

A feared and reckless beast

Gnawing at my insides

Even your skin is distasteful

All you do is claw

Tick tock…

Crippling my essence

Ruthless and disturbing you crawl

A relentless bitch

Foaming at the mouth

Even your tears want to run from you

All you do is manipulate

Tick tock…

You won’t know what hit you

by on

Between the handshakes and

the cold New Hampshire hospitality

Salutations and red carpets

are the cornerstones of this

broken down concrete

Standing ovations and hugs

are shared among the living

from the golden curbs

Wreaths of prosperity are

hung on the door all year round

Love thy neighbor is a

song sung in multiple languages

Perhaps Welcome Street is

the Apple pie of the United States

Check out my books!