Thursday, November 8, 2018


I swear your love is like candy
Amber glean within your eyes
And a sleepy waning mixture
Of your loving and your lies
Like a symphony of cries
I am not prepared to hold you 
Or the amber in your eyes

Ive got a wax cap over me
Now I am the honey
Waiting on the bees
Waiting on the world
To devour me
Fermented and dripping
From all this time
In the sweet crystal slime
Missing all of mine
Missing all of mine

And she cracks like
Hard candy
Tossing on the tongue
In love but on the run
And she is inside of me
In on in on in
On in on in on in 
She splits wide open
Just like the pages of a book
And I slept real soundly
Through all of the time it took
And now I’m hooked
And she’s addicted to the honey
So my goose is cooked
She peeled back the wax cap
And took a taste and took a look

Honey drips like syrup
On a hot summer day
In the winter it’s molasses
Won’t come out to play
Without a lot of pressure
Better if it stays
In the Honeycomb
In the Honeycomb
In this sticky home
All alone
In the honeycomb
Where it lays

And you are
A beautiful vision
Through the amber glassy case
But I am turning ugly
drifting away
Inside this place
Afloat In this concoction
I am changing
As my nectar melts  away
And I’m feeling drunk and different
Theres a darkness that has stayed
Floating in the honey
My love just melts away
Suspended in the honey
There is a darkness that has stayed
But that’s all ok
It’s easier this way
And if the bees have a short winter
I may be spared from my demise
And I’ll be brewing into flavors
Of the aged and the wise
Behind the wax cap
Where I’m changing
Maybe then I’ll be deserving
Of the amber in your eyes…

Monday, February 26, 2018

inertia, beat

quiet again
and darkness pulled
around like a too-heavy
bearing down on feet
to burden ankles
and make me 
painfully aware
of my breathing
and then
and repeat
sometimes life is a
or feels like
cold bars and no where
to hide
yet a monotone
of time
echoes in the air
like the aware dreamer
or the cinematic ear-drums
after an explosion
i wish i were weightless
suspended in the river
but it is winter still
and canons of summer
sit snowed over
and still
and i am here without
to make my
just a box of
sad clown makeup
bottom of a trunk
in a dusty hall closet
for years
inertia slithers like
a serpent
on a deluge of
the plans,
the list
the procrastination
of weariness
and fear
what once was conqueror
now is conquered
and tired
the white flag of
the worn out soldier
just older now
and down
like a sheet on the
and licking wounds
that have long
since healed
but they
so real
quiet again
and the darkness 
pulls down
like a too-heavy sheet
on the man
where the heart
and the gravel
what once 
is now