supernova

A dying star's last will and forced hand is to kill you too.
One final attention grabbing display of radiant desperation.
I will destroy entire plains of existence to gain your attention before my eventual downfall.

Life Imitating Art

Foot resting on the reflective pole lining beneath the bar, elbows planted firmly in front, posturing inward towards this fountain of youth counter-weight. This space that I rent for the price of a bottle is my own. The man next to me, eyes forward and baseball hat down seems to be in a similar situation. Close uninviting body language, but not in a hostile way, more of a remote and  non-relatable one. We share this unity in separation. Two distinct Islands off the coast of each other, longing for the mainland.
By about the fourth drink you start to no longer care that you're sitting at the bar by yourself, staring at the wall in front of you. Penetrating eyes mildly glazed over from a combination of boredom, booze, and tears. Staring past the brick into matter and waves, where they meet and disperse. Leaving me looking at everything and nothing all at once. The true artist has that sweet spot, the perfect balance of madness and brilliance. Mind the pulleys and weights carefully, a gallon of water weighs eight pounds and so does a gallon of Whiskey. Stay centered lest you run the risk of falling into complete insanity or staggering boredom. My essence becomes aware of itself hovering high above the bar and slowly drifts down, returning to be imprisoned in the slouching figure. Elbows planted in front. "A great exodus outside to smoke a cigarette is just the thing needed", I think while making my way through the smiling faces, having prolonged eye contact with them all causing their expressions to damper. Outside, the January air causes the hair on my rolled up shirtsleeve arms to stand on end. Eyes skyward, the north star focuses on me while I exhale and my soul drifts up as an offering to the Godless heavens.

To Have Loved and Lost

Baptized by a Lover's perspiring body
Once lost and shrouded in the darkness
The holy radiance shines through and blinds a man to all others
A lantern lost in the dark leaves the forest darker than if never lit up

Allegiance

"So are there any questions that you have for me?" The Petty Officer in full dress asked from behind his desk after his long winded speech about the benefits of joining the Navy. The scraggly bearded twenty something on the other side of the desk stares at his hands and then consciously in the Navy Man's eyes, answering back "Um.. Yeah. Is it a problem that I'm not at all patriotic?"
"Do you have a criminal record?" The flat top with a face shoots back without missing a beat but the slight twitch in his eye isn't unnoticeable.
The twenty something searches the question for any hidden meanings or tricks. Finally after a notable pause he answers back simply with, "No."
"Perfect."

I wish every woman who's heart I've played with could sit me down
Exhaust their soul and vocabulary to make things right with themselves
So I could whisper back at them " you do not matter "
After being hurt, you never let anyone you truly respect close to you
If you did they could let you down
But some simpleton could never break your heart

Absinthe

A false sense of lucidity, I see myself floating from room to room. Each location contains a different spectrum of me. Keep asking to go to the bar in one, poking fun at a friend continuously in another, while completely silent in some. The Green Fairy holds my hand and walks with me back and forth. Her skin is porcelain white I've always admired while her eyes are like a rolling meadow off in a place you've never been to but still long for. Her vague ferocity warms my belly and numbs my face and senses. Off to bed with Her, but She wakes after I'm deep in slumber. Going through my things, my books, my phone, my clothes. All the while continuously glancing over to my immobile body, weary of me gaining consciousness. I never do, passively trusting that her body is next to me keeping me company and keeping me warm. Waking up, I'm left to deal with the pains and headache by myself. All that She's left me is the proof of her previous presence and a feeling of abandonment. 

Truer Intentions

Producing and accepting positive vibrations in an endless continuation of a basic concept

The white hot center of the world, the music only gets louder the deeper you go

Precise antennae observing the cranial surface

A million delicate points and well hidden intention is reduced to animal desire

Mouth gaping; prepared to consume a Man's soul with ease

Eyes that have examined a Man's essence, Learned it and truly know it, only to give it back.

The ground swells beneath us and feeds as we feed.

Drift Away

Slowly digging into your consciousness and conscience 
An insignificant seed
Flourishing in infertile minds

An Island, An overused cliche, a concrete metaphor
Overheard second hand gossip of a dying generation in drunken corporate coffee shops
Burnt tongues and dead senses

Cut off from everyone, everything
Still caught in the web

Unfaithful to yourself
Unfaithful to myself
Lose your faith
Lose your mind
Lose yourself
Dead eyes and dead minds left limping in the three legged races of uncertainty

Feel the condensation on the glass and how it cools your skin.
How it  warms your body.
That slight push... Drift away.

Lies

I wish you wouldn't lie to me
Not because your non-truths themselves upset me
But how you poorly construct them
So transparent and poorly built
Are you even trying to deceive me or are you mocking me?

January Storms

The subtle sound of every tree withstanding that all encompassing push by our Mother Nature
Creaking and bending but never giving into her full will
Is this a test of strength or of allegiance?
The ground sucks up as much liquid as possible and is covered with the rest like a drunk showing off his limits and failing, too distracted to be embarrassed
The precipitation falls in many forms but like me, the Earth would never turn down a free drink

Water Coming Over the Hill

The day after the first substantial snowfall of the year. The ground grey and showing the lost beauty that is perverted so easily like a virgin raised in the church slurring her words in the bar on her 21st. The Woman, blonde, pulls up to the pharmacy in her white nondescript SUV. Her "The North Face" jacket is tight and accentuating her ageless body just how she likes it to. The tequila from last night is leaving her stomach unsettled and her general demeanor "a bit agitated". The conditions of the roads and the effect of them on her larger than necessary vehicle are the last thing on her Xanax hazed mind. Picking up her children (a boy and a girl, the perfect ages apart) and delivering them to their respective post-school events, the condition of her marriage that is sinking slowly from a place of distance to that of rage and misunderstanding, the AA meetings that her husband keeps suggesting and she keeps dodging. All these things weigh on her narrow minded psyche, making refilling her anti-anxiety medication just another slight annoyance. The speaker crackles out the effeminate voice of the drive thru pharmacist, relating instructions that the Woman in her SUV is already very familiar with. She goes through the necessary motions to accomplish her anticipated result, just as she does with every task. The intended outcome is reached, just as it always is. "Have a wonderful day!" crackles enthusiastically out of the machine in a way that you know you can't trust it being genuine. "Thanks, you too." She replies to the machine, face expressionless.

A deep calm, then crushing impact as long fingers and even longer nails dig into skin and draw responses of simultaneous pain and pleasure.
Wave upon wave, euphoria crashes upon the rocks.
The ebb and flow destroys and rebuilds my coastline of indifference.
The edge of the waters freeze over in the month of my birth but not substantial enough to support the weight of this stone I have for a heart.
Golden coastlines meant for holding bronze hands and kissing cracked red lips are all I long for in these grey times.

Auto Eroticism

Smoke gathers and hangs in substance fueled car rides like the mist surrounding Niagara falls while sad songs of yesterday fall upon non-present deaf ears.
Another bullet dodged, another chambered for tomorrow.
I used to say that nothing matters but the here and now.

I know this to be false. Nothing matters.

Dying like paint drying.  Waiting impatiently for the end and when it comes sooner than expected, you're stuck on the wall of an indifferent ever changing room.
Sideways glances from self obsessed Men caught up in the lust of auto-eroticism.
White knuckles grasping the gear shift like a Lover's hand while staring down the possibility of death.
Smoke gathers and escapes like so many Lovers of times not forgotten. 
Smoke gathers and clings tightly to my jacket also not unlike a former Lover.
Smoke gathers and dissipates while the red hot dynamo headache shatters upon the blacktop. 
A world created and destroyed just as quickly. 

Lost beneath the night sky once again
My eyes pointed towards the Earth
Down for the count I've got nothing
Once again
I'm rooting for myself
Against all odds and nobody cheers for me
All there is is myself
   All there is
Is myself
Fingertips brushing skin that has died off months ago but the memory is still there
As is the muscle memory, the visions, the familiar scents
I will die an incomplete man but all else will feel the sting of me leaving the depths of absolute
The self is all I am anymore