I Know

I know who the monster of the house is, its

not the one who beats the kids or roams about frothing

at the glands, the petty upsets like napkins on the wrong side

upending plans as much as lives, not the 

closet case drama queen control freak whose pretty pink

insides want's so desperately to be pulled out or display to the 

rest of the EVERYTHING (even if its the souls around) no its

the enablers who let them all get away with it, Cosby & Kelly's crews the

quiet ones who are good with plans, dont call the cops, grow all the greens I

weep dearly at those who watched them and let them walk

away from me too, its all over and stupid and madness too love.

Dont worry sweetie, it'll get better one day, just like

it did yesterday and the day before, twenty years more and 

we'll all be dead inside just like the friends you gave away the

hardship, the beatings here in holms stock give rise to something new its

Don't worry, just a few more fingers for the 

dyke, befroe we all get washed a

.way.

Dreams & Recent Dreaming (a poem)

 

Get your butterfly nets, your giant hooks a sharpened
ready for mouths a gaping, the eyes flopped lollygaged style floundering, sifting, lounging.
Feel them in, gaff them well, club and club and club
until the feet dont feel well, or see the light; till toes cant stand the dancing.

These emotions, they feel like insanity rising,
they seem like stick stuck caught between the hard walls,
bouncing off the long halls, fleeing, gaining near to you.
All the flavors of a hug held near (sell it, dear)

For the only time I forget you, is in the imagined arms of another nearing,
which is a lie for none compete; they are stories strung true, twist clearly
yet I wake each night - yes, every single night, crying, feeling listless
from dreams of your hands there, outstretched, so near. Nearly....

She caught me as one does a gift, did not turn away
that female folly, coming near, oft draining down.
You pull me into me, I sometimes spinning and don't know what to do
you shift me in to you, that kiss stopping time and mercy up and unto itself.

Babe, I woke from this day amongst a dream of you,
at the top of the stairs, sitting in that tightened way
saying all the things I thought I needed, wanted, desired now to bear
Not trusting that version of you, for the real you it churns

in all its twisting brain matter, punked me dearly,
Struck me clearly with a strait look, a wiggled butt
(The way she danced down the hall, grey walls decorated dearly)
She didn't revolt enough there, it seems! Getting her hair a ready. A dream? XD

Babe, visit thus again, thus prep your hands for the holding
for its getting dark, your symbols quickly disappear
time continues to draw us, all the sad songs bind us,
till the Son comes round once again.

Babe, come again,
for the shades are falling, the stars are calling;
the dark, its getting near.
The cold, it rises.

Oh, so very dear; the nearing.
Adieu.