At dusk, I enter the carnival
To the smell of gasoline and cheddar.
The roar of the generators
Play harmony to the screams
Of those on the flailing machinery.
Saccharine cotton candy, leering carnies,
Pitchmen make car salesmen look like librarians.
I can smell the odor of burning buttered popcorn,
Exhaust fumes and the rumble of the carnival
Plays in my chest like a mighty speaker.
People laugh and holler, the Ferris wheel
Spins people into neon ecstasy
And my mouth and fingers taste of salt.
Step up and ring the bell; win a great toy!
Be a man, ring the bell, be a man!
Bumper car whiplash! Swing your partner,
Round and round we go!
Sorry, not insured!
The bearded lady, biggest pig ever!
The freak show.
Tripping the light fantastic
With the lizard man.
Back home, I bath, the smell,
The reek of human consumption
Spilling from me, the sweet ambrosia
Of pure American grease.
11/08/14
This is my garden without windows or doors
I am only like all the rest, a plant.
Time has no memory here. A stillness that’s deafening.
I can feel tiny tendrils, poking at me
Slowly encasing me in a cocoon of eternity
To be one with the garden
As timeless of the Plants I now inhabit
To watch forever as the Earth wages its war and again.
A kiss of wind on my face
I sway like a willow, and back
Movement of a perpetual dance
The wind comes again.
The crickle-crackle of tendrils
As I sleep eternal
Peace…now and sleep…now
Now and forevermore.
Elastic dough of eggshell white,
I pummel with fists of fury.
The dough hook spins the wares and woes
Of any who have come before me.
To pile the raw foundations into the great
machine that will burn to a golden brown.
I will raise the ship of fools
To sail the eternal sea.
All I know is the formation of food,
The spinning of the hook.
My fury is cast into the mixing bowl
To rise as a burning bird.
For the emerald isle my heart doth yearn.
The smokestack sky the spirit spurns.
Born to blood in stranger lands.
I feel the filth within my hands.
Why must I chase the clouded dreams
Of skin the clings to hollow screams?
You pull away the fishing lure
To rip the soul from shattered core.
I hate the tempter bound by sea
The emerald screams I forever flee.
These foreign lands are not my own.
The rain-soaked lands I wish were home.
Creaking timber, tar and steel.
Mother ocean does not feel
The souls of man that crawl the earth
Like soul-less ashes in the hearth.
“We hold each-other hostage to our eccentricities” I smiled again, an unseen smile. “We’re made for each-other.”
“Innocence” Dean Koontz, Page 52
I hate this block, this prison, this world.
People who, for whatever reason, sling insults or
Make fun of others who are not your friends and
Who have done nothing to deserve it.
I wish to scream, yell and rage at the people in
The world who hurt or upset me.
I want to make you beg for your life.
I want to bring suffering into the world.
The Devil’s got nothing on me.
I despise all who ever knew me as a faggot,
An outcast, a freak.
I would cast you to the farthest reaches
Of existence. The coldest depths of space.
I hate that I live in a living graveyard.
I live but am forgotten.
I hate that those who call me family
Treat me as less than.
I hate those who walk around like
Cattle, not knowing true evil.
I hate the world and wish to watch it burn.
03/18/12
My anger is like a busy hive.
It is constantly buzzing.
At time, it’s quieter or louder.
My rage is like a wasp who stings.
The wasp that stings without fear or
Concern for itself.
I wish to bring my wrath upon those
Whom I see as wicked.
A simple prod sets the hive into motion.
A cloud of fury and Death.
You drop into oblivion,
Buzzing in your ears.
03/18/12
For two days, every weekend, I go to see my father.
For two days, my dog does not leave my bed
Except to go out or eat.
For ten years, he has slept next to my door,
Watched me mow the lawn and cry.
Every day, he sat by me and never left.
I yelled, I screamed.
I even hit him once.
He only loved me more.
His kisses were gold.
Now, his ashes sit on my shelf.
An alter to greatness.
05/27/12
The yearning in my heart doth taste
Sour whiteness; bitter paste.
Touch my face, my skin ignites.
With a kiss, my heart ignites.
In your orbit, a slanted plane,
With your fingers through my mane,
Caress my face from crown to chin;
Wake me up with pointed pin.
So I sleep this dream a farce?
Or is it precursor to something worse?
Touch of fingers, my food and drink;
Discerning eyes from which I shrink.
Heart a ’racing; a mighty steed.
Spur me further, whippy reed.
Reed of silver, molten gold,
Tender finger, smile stole.
See your face within the stone,
Dripping love-struck, honey comb.
Walk the walls and feel the flame,
In your orbit, a slanted plane.
Feel the smile, a lover’s kiss,
That once in death forever miss.
11/15/14
Welcome to the rat race.
Running a maze looking for cheese.
It doesn’t exist.
We’re all looking for our place
Among the vermin.
So many times, we evaded capture
Only to end up on a cage of
Our own design.
Sooner or later, we’ll end up in the
Wrong cage and the cheese will
Be poisonous.
What will you do now?
What will you do now that you thought
You were smarter than the cat?
We must evolve from vermin to Valhala.
03/18/12
Looking for food.
Always looking for food.
Or digging.
Or building.
Oh, Look! A large piece of food!
My queen will love this!
It is red and white, striped and tasty!
I grab a piece with my mighty jaws.
Back and forth I lead my brothers. A huge shadow. I run away.
Something furry, and smelly, smelling us.
Now it’s dark and warm and moist.
I will climb my way out.
I will bite and chew.
05/27/12
