I think about running
Muscles tighten, breath quickens and mind enters a tunnel
I think about running to anywhere but the
mind-numbing, soul-sucking loneliness that is here.
I open my mouth grave-wide to rage against the darkness
It envelops like quicksand, invading lungs like plague,
rendering my throat ragged and ineffectual.
I dream of retreating,
Tendons flexing, feet hitting pavement repetitively
I dream of retreating so deep into myself
That the liars and leeches
become lost in my inner labyrinth
Those that dare to speak of love and loyalty without knowing the real meaning
are cast down into my loneliness
I pray it feasts upon them till nothing but bleached bone remains
I imagine receding
Heart races, pulse soars, sweat trickles a path down exhausted psyche
I imagine receding
Conceding my faith, acknowledging the odds are too great to conquer
Accepting the disquieting inevitability of silky isolation
Choosing to cling to pain so exacting,
I question the decision to keep fighting with every laborious breath.
I'm shocked to numbness and my smiles ring hollow
I am at my limit
No more strength, no more love, no more faith
I function instead of live
I feel my light fade
and see no reason to reignite it.
I stand at the precipice, body primed at the ready
The starting gun thunders
and I run
eyes closed, soul clenched, heart bankrupted,
I run into darkness.

I'm barreling heartfirst into napalm.
I don't care.
There's an emergency brake on this ragtag coaster.
I don't care.
I can feel chocolate skin crinkle shiny black from the heat.
I don't care.
Locs ablaze burn like fuses down to an ever-blackening skull.
I don't care.
As rendered flesh melts away from now obsidian bone all that remains is a heart beating in Poe-like fashion.
I want to forget, 
I want to run,
I want to hide,
I want to hate.
I want to hate you for your weakness, your maddening indecisiveness, your telling inaction.
But the things I want are not in my nature, so I forgive and burn.
And I know that I'll be doing this little song and dance everytime. 
It will just hurt a little less as there will be less of me to feed the flame.
I welcome that day.

-- Sent from my Palm Prē

As I sit in nature's thrall
seduced into silent awe by emerald décolletage
dragonflies on diamond wings lazily circumnavigate
a halo around my hapless head
thoughts walk toward the path of you
Tentatively, I open foresight's door
and anxious wonder "What's next?"
A line from a song, a tale of right gone wrong
I peer deep into the light but see naught
but a pollen snowstorm
I'm caught
in a prison of your making
defended by ghosts of girlfriends past
frenzied encounters that didn't last
I walk down a path of broken faith
impeded by arrows dipped in doubt and bitterness
Wounded thrice am I
but persevere do I through a maze
where hurt feelings, mistrust, and general malaise
hold court
Your voice marvelously monotone carried
through naked dark,
"Turn back."
Shaken, I almost oblige but resolve hardens
much like the rod between your thighs
So like dust I rise
And it's here you'll find me
fighting back demons and tears
melancholy fears
Searching steadfastly for you
I think you want me there
in the suffocating blackness
the silky crush
of your inner recesses
I think, because I know, because I heard you
in the confines of a soul laid bare
of a heart querulously beating
of a mind connected to yours.
My own

Still I see you there.
Infuriating like the piece of food stuck between my teeth
Unobtainable like an eye floater
Unyielding like a migraine
Jagged like heart palpitations

And yet...I still see you there.
Insistent like my heartbeat
Electric like brain's synaptic function
Cyclical like ovulation
Cascading like blood flow

I see you.
In the flash of every eye blink
In the ragged exhalation of my sigh
And though I try to fight it
I see you

In the blurred peripheral of renegade tears I cry

It is often said that freedom isn't free,
that it's something worth dying for.
But is freedom really so great?
A baker's dozen of years I spent as love's captive,
and it wasn't all that bad,
being shackled to another person through raw emotion
It was rough, but honestly there were more good times than bad
I mean besides the daily verbal abuse.
Day in and day out
"I love you"
"You're beautiful"
"You're sexy"
So much so, that brainwashed, I actually started to believe it
An Abu Ghraib of our own making
kissed, licked, stroked into submission
Ugh, such tortures you've never known or should have to endure!
Maybe it's Stockholm's
but now that I've extracted myself from love's terrible predicament,
Now that I'm alone, unloved, and unwanted
I can only reminisce and ask,
"Freedom? What's the big deal?" 

Strange is what I feel when I see you,
with liberal dashes of indifference.
When you come to the door brandishing my god-king
in our weird visitation ritual.
The only proof that once we were more than
familiar strangers on a 13'' leash,
straining against nylon constraint to reach me
Defiant, I refuse to meet your gaze,
refuse to engage the enemy who once claimed to be my friend
But you try anyway.
The glass brittle hello you offer
falls on somber, inattentive ears, ringing ingenuous.
The you I used to know is dead,
dispatched by my own hand and all that's left
is a rather judgmental, self-absorbed, unreasonable facsimile
that writes one word email responses and prefers to pretend
that I do not exist.
The question remains: did I ever exist in an anti-copernican universe
where the world revolves round your undeveloped, misguided light?
A person who swears that he is not mine enemy
To which I unequivocally declare to the heavens
Bullshit!
Friends do not meet each other with awkward silence meant to shield
thoughts and feelings in an iron curtain-clad impasse.
Nor do they cut and run when emotions run molten.
Friends that fancy themselves siblings do not discard each other thoughtlessly
like empty Diet Pepsi cans drained of their thirst-satisfying contents,
remains left to glisten silently for all to see and none to acknowledge.
But it is in this intentional tension that I find myself
liberated, invigorated, and satiated,
buoyed by the promise of life beyond you
So much so that I don't mind writing this down,
giving voice to this feeling and possibly
feeding a quizzically overfed ego.
It is here in this uncomfortable airspace that I truly wish you well and pray
as all good Christians derelict or active should (smile)
that you find what you're looking for.
It is where the things I thought I wanted, needed to say,
silky soliloquies reminding you of your own
blatant shortcomings
fall into the wayside of velvet silence,
jaw clenching shut allowing no sound to pass pursed lips.
"It so not worth it," I realize contently.
The you I thought I knew,
wrapped in integrity, cocksuredness, with an extra helping of dorkiness
is dead.
And I look through this new manifestation
to bigger, better, more beneficent things.
So as I reach out for the god-king and our hands touch
I wonder if you know, that I'm not missing you.
And though there will be times that I'll feel a twinge of longing,
I'm happy to know those thoughts will be few and far between.

It's because I'm worthy from follicle to toenail
that you should be with me.

Because what I lack in model savior faire,
I compensate intrinsically.
A lady I may not be, but I'm all day a woman.

Because when looks fade and hips and butts spread,
love, integrity, and faith never fade
the same goes for loyalty and passion.

It's because I'm humble in my God complex.
I realize that God is too complex for me to ever presume
that I know his will, so I subjugate without protest

Because I am content to play #2 to Him,
but never #3 to Him and your ego.

Because through me runs generations.
A future of love, strength, courage, and wisdom
without which your tree will wither

It's because if you can't see unequivocally
the God in me, guaranteed someone else will.

Be brave enough to live life creatively,

to the fullest.

Go on, dive off the high dive

into a  teardrop of a lost love.

You can do it , light a fuse

see it through to the end.

Dance on a kinfe's bloodgrove,

Tattoo yourself on someone's mind.

In the twilight

Drink from the thirst,

sup with the divine,

whatever your heart's delight.

Do it with spirit,

Do it with penanche,

Just do it…

Creatively.

Because it feels right to me,

the silk of my skin,

the soft kink of my hair. 

Because it looks good to me,

the shape of my eyes,

the tantalizing sway of my hips… 

Sometimes. 

I like to experience. 

My body erotica. 

I plunge in. 

Riding the ebb and flow of waters so deep,

They threaten to drown.

I float lavishly in the ocean me.

Housed in words,

I wax intrinsic, on ethereal surroundings.

I built this city with ink and paper.

Pulled forth from tears of the mind's eye.

I touch myself lyrically, detach.

Let my blood suffice for once

black-hearted ink.

I built this house with bloodied paper.

Here in cemented fibers,

I reside ideallic,

giving origin

to mundane gods,

my words.

I write, devour, speak, crave them.

A poem.

I built my room with a poem