Tasting sky

the jet black persona of night

is in every breath

and no breath is unseen

for the frost is everywhere

including the conversation

yet our ability to

have a bout of smiles

and a very well sharpened need

to use tunnel vision

makes everything that happened

around us just background and noise

because I am transported

to a far away place where I

only wish to

see you, hear you, touch you

even the distant echo of moon

could not distract with its

wide and shining

and brightly lighting face

as my wide eyes

take you in

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Heads are going to roll

The clock is ticking, and
the tides are turning. The
jester and the barkeep play dice
while a few miles away their
messengers have been reduced to
bones. But they do not wait for word
to return and have little hope
even if it does; after the fire goes
out, the snow falls. They do talk
into the night, about everything
and nothing, easy as a knife through
meat and as expected as a wedding
present. Two cups are poured. Due to
the strength of the drink, both are friendlier
than they normally would be. A bet is
placed relating to the king. He is a man
at war with himself in a world of conflict.
Both of them are not uninformed, but they
must not tell each other secrets. There is a
moment of silence. Then a dream of moonlight
decides everything, as it shines on a rider
approaching.
Heads are going to roll…

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acknowledgement

don’t lose track
of the rhythm
we have our own pace
and don’t black out
or take anything
unless it is good soup offered
by a cozy house
on a day you were
followed by every dark cloud in town
but I kept my head up
even though we
have to give it our best shot
to make it to the dark
before a hot bath
and a cold beer
make every star seem right outside
your window
and clear as a bell
and hidden in the corner
is a pretty happy future
like a dog snoring away

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maybe

this is the
best kind of day
there is,
when your can’t tell
where the last hour ended
and where the next one
begins,
we have enough time to
draw us out of our shells
and when we see
that we are going to be
there for each other
laugh until we
begin to cry,
from there
we can see the happy morning
waiting next door

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truely

you can’t pretend anymore
on a level shelf is where
your new confidence is stored
becoming a legacy in a new land
like a duke who had it rough
when the king turned his back
or the last hourglass sand
obsessed with what you now love
her pointed teeth on the attack
where is your hold word
even though you weren’t there
I think maybe you were
still heard
my name still echoing with all
the places I spent time
how good it was in this life
that I got everything before the fall
when it was not
as bad a year as it could have been
pick up the line if you have got
the nerve and call
while it still means something
to your life and mine
protect yourself
then the hooks come out
it could be worse
I have a chance
I have a change

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darkest pit of your soul in the rain

doesn’t it seem odd to you where we are?
almost enough miles away that
right now it does not hurt like a bastard
keeping a distance from the pain for now
even a walk in the pain won’t cheer me up
still hearing the ocean lived so long away from
this time I will miss it when I leave, if I leave
purple-red sunsets of unapproved-of passion flowers
in a ritual of forever and forgetfulness and
times of stolen touches yet rekindling heat, is it that
organisms can actually bond in this way
framed in a pair of not-so-innocent eyes and
young skin is sinking into the bathroom floor,
our lives may seem longer than they really are
until the morning devil comes in our lives again
right now we are caught up in the once more,
so where did you disappear off to? it is not
our brains that separate us, yet here we are,
using the telephone for its close contact
like sliding down my back your sultry voice
into a steaming tub with your hello waiting
nice and comfortable as your embrace is
the hug after and accident or a kissed bruised heart
however I am wishing for your call to escape this night,
evidently I am not near enough to be occupied because
reasons to miss you, the song playing, my food, my constant
anger at myself for screwing up so bad to
instantly be relieved would be so cutting and easy
now I need to hear your voice

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cold endearing

who even are you really?
asking all the tough questions and difficulty is on your skin
you make it so easy to misunderstand you
and everyone is going to assume just like you do
all the days you sat and waited
can’t matter now that your time is fading
you see that sky?
it might as well be
a curtain over your head as you sit at home asleep
because you had to be that kind of mean to accept people as they really are
and it must be really nice to have
the medication that can pretend to fix
what made you give up on your whole
group of friends to begin with
and they must be so proud of you
to have moved on like you feel you have to
because the easiest thing to do
is to let someone effect your life like this
and therefore control you
I am so glad you moved on
I hope you are not making too many new acquaintances now
that you will just ignore later on
when you have
“moved on”

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tough

making the path up again
showing how happy you were
at leaving
but not happy at leaving your friend behind
and as if you had to sleep
even though that doesn’t happen very often anyway
you were there for her and now
where is she?
off on another tangent of her life
and getting done exactly less than the entire world
could cure with just a smile
but you were in her life for a while and now
when you move on you have
more questions than can be answered
unless you don’t see it through the fog
of your brain
and clear up enough to thank
those who were there when you wanted it
but I guess you are on
your own way
obsessed with your life
instead of caring about if
they still ponder you
occasionally

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the empaty sees

made up of  tiny portions

of the growls you have been giving

I glance side to side while

hungering for your aggressive claws

pouring out the teeth

and sending them out to get a meal

and I have to ignore the old

pictures of someone else’s

family with wood frames and a layer of dust

but you were there

when the watchful orb came

across your skin and bones

warning was in your eyes

and I saw you look around

as if to find a way to escape again

you cant know how you found me

and I have to bite back

yet I will slow down enough to let

you see the fire on my face

and you know

just as well as I do

there is a succubus

in every church

and in every hellhole

a saint

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29th

you couldn’t have

seen through my eyes, but

if you had that ability you would observe

the thirteen bears

juggling a sofa on a rollercoaster

that was the life I lead

the attitude was fierce on a

backseat fire

these waiting room impatience brigades

were no longer as funny

as the children piloting them

and patience had opened a vein

before the first cup of coffee

but the border was watched as

close as a river wanting to flood

answering the question while

slowly cleaning under your fingernails

because I saw your

smile behind the barking dog

that reminded me to get up

get out there and accomplish

 

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