yer.very.nonversational.

Where's the monster under yer bed now mutha---- give me a reason to shoot and loose my head from all the----  oh hey there yuh lost me in the limelight of yer reddened lips sticked for other people (when the sad track hits rock bottom there's no turning back till the bassline) an' I told you NO NO NO NO yes as a matter o' fact I DO have a wicked foothold on my monkeybars for it's only noon o'clock and tea is after supper and my mother wants me home before yesterday so take me to the lake and push till the melody goes all wonky and junk.

Pulchritudinous.

what is beauty?
am I beauty?
give me a reason to believe that you give a-

your not the first to tell me half the things you say.
in fact I'm sure it's all been said before,
so just give up
go home
and have a wonderful day.

Hitherto.

Henceforth and hitherto
where did the good go?
my Marry has an awful ache
for her Heart is full of blood.

Without the dreadful stench of dead
I don't know what to do.
The time has come to tear apart all that has been whole
and break away for something new
something blue
and something borrowed.

Can't we Kiss and Makeup?
Can we just forget and regret?
my martyrdom has run it's course
run through the motions with a pike
and run away with the spoon.

Give me a chance to redeem myself,
my brain is merely a bundle of cells -> atoms -> electrons, neutrons, protons
you can't expect much from a man with no soul.

Henceforth and hitherto.
where did the good go?

April 13th 2011 (continuation of March 24th 2011)

Goddamn Batman...

And then there's Harley, my temptress, my suffocating Succubus. Her hips sway through the winding smoke and pressing blackness. Harlequin red and black abandoned on the floor for something a bit more bare and pink. Golden curls fall to cover her.

Trying to be seductive.
My tounge writhes with nicotine and anger, growling in peels of hate:

My heart is far too busy with other matters.
Goddamn Batman...

Her expression drops into a dainty frown, feet turned inward, shoulders limp and helpless as she sways back- forth- back- forth-

"Come on Puddin'"

This started as a poem about how Andrew Brockman was flying at Airband and then it evolved into greatness (read it as one big sentence):

When Angels fall from Heaven-sent the messager of Hades fire-the guns of nuclear War-heads of soldiers roll like the th-underneath the skin there's secrets to be-hold the wrath of God is more dangerous than good-ridence.

April 19th 2011

Heart throb
Oxymoron
Maryrdom
Mixed feelings.



I am horrified of myself.

March 29, 2011

Duct tape scars
reddened rings wrap wrists
lovingly <3
------------------------------
be the Batman to my joker
the Batsy to my jay man
without you I'm just a
joke without a opunchline
a trick without a treat
just a stupid clown...
playing stupid games
with a deck of cards
       missing his King of Hearts <3
-------------------------------
Everyone knows I can't live without you.
you are the last piece to my puzzle
the puzzle that's my
little
giggling
heart <3