…..And because I ran out of paper
I loved you, escape from literature
Short-lived, to be sure –
An alien touch running out of places
To touch, the gasping for words
After words were trimmed by lust
And I ran out of paper, you fool
Because you said the most fascinating things
I stopped my incessant dialogue
With myself for a short while
To enter your life with my spoon of flesh
To melt trustingly into your pain
And dig out a random festival, to be alive
For what? And because I ran out of hope
I tried to connect with you, like an animal
And it disgusted you that I ate from
The same dish of pleasure
Bending you over to have my fill
There was no diction in that moment
Just the thrill of living vicariously
….And because I ran out of hope
I fell into your arms, and you despised me for it.
Daily Archives: May 16, 2013
Some are no more, others are distant
My life has become
A poem without a hero
As if, I am not the center of my life
I’ve observed the translation
Of experience to verse
Like somebody who doesn’t
Truly care where they may end up
My life has arrived quickly
At the end without an Epilogue
I become a secret chorus
Of my own mental instability
Without justification to survive
Or opportunity to love
I hear their voices and I remember
Solace, is my spoon of golden-milk
My life can become
A poem with other beloved characters
As if, I was living my life for others all along.
Ode to Jacqueline
He did not know his threshold was a woman
The afterword, when boundaries
Flared like the settling of silver-spun swans
He imaged he’d kiss that neck
A thousand times, not simply once
She has been the road
Open before him
The editor of his most ardent obsession!
He did not know in her mischief
Resounded such a caressing doom
Souvenirs of her lost forever
In her departing scurry of wild rabbits
In the great silent epoch of meeting lives
He did not know she would send him trembling
With the insanity of not being a hero
Like a funeral procession of what could have been
And the flowers on the floor, white lilies
How she peered at herself in the mirror
And snarled a cartoon phrase of self-mockery.
May 16, 2013.