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I have over 60 poems in my notebook. Some are obviously better than others, some are conceptual, some are rhythmic, some are highly contextual and consequently not easily understood by others. Here is a selection. There is also a reading of slow , in real audio format .
The ant was formed from Adam's tear
That dropped to ground by Godly fear
The tear was a drop of Adam's best
Forming a creature to never rest
Beauty's girl come and play
Punk girl come and touch my days
With deathly pale of skin and soul
Fingers tipped with reddened tolls
Let me drink your dark and deep
Let me show, the sins I keep
I alone shall be your slave
Even till the Dark of our grave
My painted mistress of other world
Lone Vampyress -- my punk girl.
I have not been as I'd have liked
Nor have I liked the way I've been
I pray for strength to keep my soul
From cruel and unkindly sin
Endless hours span the struggle
That lasts longer than life
The Silent Struggle is that which
Troubles the soul with strife
Those that meet and greet with a smile
and wish no other harm
May be void internal, spurned eternal
With the disease that affects their mind
No other may know, the pain does not show
For it bleeds in the shade of silence
But their mind is affright, their soul alight
With perdition's flames made corporal
At times the winds may quiet and still
And sanity's silence will prevail
And love, hope, and enjoyment may play
Below the clouds' fragile veil
A lover's caress, a friend's witty jest
The beauty of Autumn's first leaf
Even the gentler sadness may to come to rest
Upon the chest filled with the richness of life
Yet then swings the sickly pendulum
All smiles fade; eyes turn to dust
The gentler sadness become greater
And the greater entices death's lust
Friends turn away, for this strangeness estranges
When the changes bends the dancer into the lame
The world fills with the din and dreams are the only escape
That end with a scream amid a pool of shame
Still for the sake of those who have stayed
The razor blade is delayed and so begins the day
A new battle for life and love of those who have cared
And in the Silent Struggle, the pain to have shared
Truth lay low, so I could see
The happier possibilities
___
I turned to face the facts
Leaving hope to face my back
...
In days past, years ago
I once had an imaginary friend
One of the same
Among the billion names
Of those who also looked into their mirror
I would look and cry
See the loneliness reflected
In my narrow green eyes
And hoped the other could see
That my need was great
That I would never hate
If they would hear my desire
And respond
But I have already met my other
Who now sleeps somewhere other
Than besides my starved desire
And in her place, my psyche lays
And together we caress all that I miss
And the pain that drives me insane
It drives me crazy
(Which is an uncommon thing)
To hear the slithering sound
Of the constant liquid slurping
He's in a constant slouch
Feet up on a chair
Breathing over his coffee
As if it was the purest of airs
And though he's 3 chairs away
I hear every sickening sound
Every 5 seconds a slurp
A gulp, a sigh, and another round.
The only good thing for me.
Is that every gulp is closer
to being the last, the end of class
and sanity restored.
My mind
is slow.
Moving unevenly through
(and towards what goal?)
The drifts
of lachrymose snow.
Onward!
Forward!
Push!
Plod!
Slow...
I can not think
I can not move
It does not melt
For it doesn't know
The warmth of love
Slow.
Gather ones self in the death of green.
Bury ones self in a blanket of leaf.
Nest in the memories of a previous spring.
Sleep amidst the petals of grief.