Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Bitter Sweet


you must be real must be creation

beautiful creature imagination

if i gave you my heart

would you go away

would you swallow me whole

how would I taste?

who are you?

roses in hand

take a long look at me

know who i am

the rain makes us change bittersweet

you like how i look

in the frame of this place

and i think you’re beautiful

from behind the lace

it makes me sad

i love you so much

invite me to bed

too perfect to touch

ten thousand thoughts all at once

i unfold them

i can’t control them

suffer your miracle as i hold them

pain makes us change bittersweet

you must be real must be creation

beautiful creature imagination.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Glass and Shadow


My senses won’t forget you

I know they never will

Scratches on my heart still burn

Beneath a captive chill

It’s funny how much strangers

Can remind me of your tangled laces

My conscience is stifled speechless

As my imagination changes places

Old man winter holds me tight

Beneath the piercing rays of August sun

I won’t let go of winter’s arms

Because they keep my demons numb

I find solace sleeping here

As the flurries falls

Feeling through the looking glass

Until there’s nothing to feel at all

Twilight kiss my silhouette

Shine and twinkle on my skin

Carry me to your floating city

Only you can make me young again

I keep to my bohemia

There’s nothing I won’t tell

I’m desperately seeking angels

I’ve seen the depth of hell

Sometimes I hear the devil’s bedlam

Screaming profanely at the night

Before my trapdoors and addictions

Reaching for that peaceful light

You’re soaring through the brimstone

tragic like a shooting star

I’ll on go as you grow colder

Glass and shadow is all we are.


Tidal Waves



Maybe

it’s a lily we dreamed Into creation

and maybe it's a life like a willow,

a place to go in hard times

and unaccounted moments

of vivid reverie.

Our hands tangled together

are roots connecting

and spreading life

into the ground between us.

I throw myself down

on your beautiful blades

and plead not for mercy

but for more, more, more.

To fall beside you out of breath

looking up,

memorizing the curves in your torso,

paralyzed in saturated moments

as beads of honey and night sweat

tumble down your back,

leaving behind the pattern of comets

to collect in pools

that become tidal waves.

Decade


A thing of beauty

without a place to be real,

but real it is regardless.

The sounds of prose

and octaves

rise in me any time I wander

the garden of your words.

Fatal flowers like free verse flowing

The glowing of my cheeks

and forehead

from beneath my skin

caused by a sudden spike

in temperature

tells me what I already know,

you have crept into my bones

and tattooed corresponding sonnets

to my soul.

I could go on loving you

for another decade, effortlessly.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Origami

September is coming up fast
Like a break in the clouds.
There's more devils inside me
Than god should allow.
We use what we remember
And touch to create,
Come for me sweet wretchedness
Take away this loving hate.
More vices than choices
More thoughts than voices
I walk on,
Unsteady
Down thunder road.
I go on,
a time travel
and the universe unravels
Making origami from the faces I know.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Jake Badger 2009


Modesty

Circles make modest the mistakes
worth making twice in a lifetime
and vodka makes modest the tears.
The shutters of a house now dark
as it is silent,
Are drawn carefully and precisely
as to ensure the quiet perfection
of it's contents.

And I am noisy as the day is long.

But I can build myself a body
from the ashes,
Falling now like snowflakes
in the streetlight.
My afterthoughts all flutter away
and I bid them farewell.
Parting truly is a sweet sorrow;
but sorrow none the less.
I am better off left to my devices,
which are predictable,
than to my thinking,
which is not.
The ink on the page
is one in the same,
as the ink on my skin.

And parishioners of a dying religion
wish only to understand,
before being understood.
I find myself among the grasshoppers
in these early morning hours,
Praying like hell
From beneath their wings and arches.