#mentalnotes1

Chairs window pains and picture frames hold secrets

~~~

Misunderstood with tradition and verbs

~~~

Rifts creeks crevices and curves obey commands and surgically implant paranoia translated to bad words

~~~

I can see invisible people watching me hiding in the seams

~~~

While drums beat heavy from the rear of my twisted dreams

~~~

Naturally it’s the thing I wear

~~~

Everything is not always as beautiful as it may appear

~~~

I whisper truth to myself and pretend not to hear

~~~

Till poetry becomes aggressive and lines become smeared

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Time has no expiration date and statute of limitations don’t exsist

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Don’t ever get distracted it’s not always easy to resist

~~~

The thoughts

~~~

Waiting for November

I waited

She said this was the safest place

It was 1800 hours and I felt the sadness engulf me

As I looked on past the sunset

Blank with guilt

I waited

And I waited

And I waited for her

Days came

And they went

The sun shifted

And it bent

I talked to the gods

Bowed my head hopeful this would be rectified if I repent

But the water

Froze still

And the quiet consumed me

And I knew

She was gone

But

…

I waited

I got Tombstones in my Mattress

And I practice pretending they aren’t there

Potholes and traps for all who enter these tomb filled snares

I got ash cans and grey-post

That line the belly of this seam

I got construction going on

In the trinkets of my dreams

In the pit of my mattress

I call it the dead zone

There building a fortress

And fences

Calling it their home

And they aint even paying rent

I evicted two tenants

And could care less where they went

I’ve got Tombstones in my Mattress

And I’m prepared to burn this dwelling place

Can’t sleep at night

Without these men staring me in my face

My bed has become crowded

And the only person I’m angry at is me

Because I have allowed these men to literally enslave me

Gatekeepers come from nowhere, hired in this dark ground of doom

I’ve invited men in from random states to fill these empty tombs

I can't stand being cramped up in my own bed

I demised a portal

For people who have long time been dead

It’s God awful that their locked in this trench

I’m not sure how much longer I can tolerate this awful stench

I got all these men living in my bed 6 feet deep

It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten a good night’s sleep

I am on the brink of something really big

Tonight, these men are getting the hell up out my bed

I want to be rid of this affliction

You touch me in places

Foreign to lingering lust

Where blood flows heavy

And veins pump deeper than an oceans rush

You take me over mountains

You make waters flow from some of the driest, emptiest of fountains

Hidden in a dream

You gave me babies to love me and called them queens

You sunk me into right

Long before I entered your life

You pumped love into my veins

And quoted scripture to repair my broken brain

What a tedious job picking locks and whispering through rusted chains

With nothing to gain

You

Loved

Me

You

Loved me

To

Poetry ~ 1988