I am a gesture of the cosmos, a cosmic jester. A connoisseur of communicative activity thats all wrapped up and stuffed liked a cotton swab. I am the one set aside and dipped in wax, unsatisfied and untied. Omnipresent like mistakes made along the way. Pervasive and perverse, the perverted and the disturbed. Gale force winds that smell like roses, footprints in the sky, shy hands holding tight.

I am love. An act of devotion and duplicity, a stab in the back to the back stabbing jackal. Plagued with compassion, diseased with a festering passion for the sickly. Contempt misdirected and then redirected to the proper time and place, a place of prosperity and pain. A place of confusion found next to wisdom busy servicing those still waiting. Fiction and excitement creating friction and frustration of a different breed.

I am a gesture of the cosmos and their chaos, millions of vermillion toned effects pushing the limits of matter. A cosmic jester if you will and I will believe in you and your kind sweet motions, waves of emotions, gale force winds that smell like roses. Ill be your madness, your downer, your safe place, always.

Part I

(Conversing With the Devil)

"What's wrong with you?" She asked...

"A lot of things, or so I'm told…" I replied...

"That's you, always being sarcastic; everything's a fuckin' joke isn't it?" She said…

…With a sort of end note that clarified the entire thing. I was a joke. And if not, what I said was. So I didn't say anything, so I didn't leave myself open for another cheap shot. I have a lot to say but nobodies listening, everybody's busy glistening, shining and shimmering in their lights glowing brightly slowly fading into the twilight that's becoming night and now the shadows get long. The truth gets perverse as opposed to just plain hurts…

She asked me a few minutes earlier, with a tear in her eye she said to me...

"What would I do without you?" She asked...

"I'm sure you would find something to do" I said...

"What? What do mean by that? She demanded...

...It always ended with a question, and me staring into empty glass eyes that saw nothing but their own reflection. Neglection, ways of paradoxical affection. Exceptions, here and there, now everywhere all at once along with acceptance. So was I sticking around for mellow dramatic silence and excitement or was waiting to leave, to be excused, but there was no excuse even though many times I tried...

"Are you just gonna sit there and look at me?" She asked, as her voice rose...

"Ya, I'm thinkin' bout it...? I replied with a slight nod...

...As the Q's and A's got shorter and shorter and relied more on body language with quick glances to the street and the coffee mugs, things sped up, the tempo went to a quick one two. Seating slouched and eyes vouched for the real truth that was looming around side by side with the cigarette smoke, teamed with knots in my throat, twitching itching failings at reaching out and cutting the hunger short of its fill, that hunger, insatiable, reliable...

Part II

(Disaffection)

… So we sat in silent conversation, hopeless thoughts of preservation, disaffect the affirmation of the after thought, it's amazing. A refined art of madness, psychosis, neurosis, same words for the same mistake, as your fingers rake into skin with a burning motive without restraint. Untamed visual, see the cycle of reuse, salvaging the abuse, what's your excuse?

Disaffect the affirmation of the after thought, it's amazing…

"How's life treating you?" they ask all too frequently…

"With interest." I reply…

Fuck your question until it screams its own answer, blast through the rivalry, triviality of the unblessed fallacy, fragile personality in the wake of imperfection and its reality, justified fake of the becoming, now were happy…      

"Fu… fu… fuck you!" she says to me…

"No, fuck you" I reply…

Don't make me stand up, I'm calm and well mannered, neatly natured, nurtured with the slowest of response times, but I swear to an unjust god that I will cause pain without remedy; you'll cry guilty tears of filthy fears, no disease to match your cures…

"It's all over now, there's no need to cry" I said…

"Why isn't there a reason to cry?" she asked…

Because no one will be around to hear you…

Part III

"Compunction"

Now, you surrender to me

   You plea to me                guilty

In hopes that I'll spare the pain that needs to bubble up

Up to the surface to meet its new host

Now, you feel everything

   You say to me                 guilty

As it tears you apart inside and then you crawl back

To that hole you call a thought…

"Just One More"

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But you're so beautiful in your denial

A desert flower

We are lovers caught up in the sun rise

We were

Single moments strung together

Moment by moment

"Never Say Never"

Shy hands holding tighter than ever

A heart beat pounding like drums

Like drums with tight leather

Breaking in the center

Hours summed up in a moment

A year cut down

Into the blink of an eye

A life time

That was never truly alive

                 Im back at last to lust after I laugh in the face of love after death you found me out at last Im out about what I cant do without that is until I change my mischievous mind and convince time to let me be standing still in your sunshine my only sunshine when happiness consists of grey skies and flies that buzz what was that rumor that buzz goin round and round like a he said she said bullshit round of the price is wrong again and again she told you buzz off fuck off you played your cards wrong you brought cards to babylon to play games in the fountains of beauty that leave you wet and cold after the nights gone.

                 Come at me with all youve got in your war worthy words to set ablaze the evenings already razed by your outward glimmerings of attraction to that guilty pleasure of a mix between what you want and what you had and is now everything you seem to not want at all or is that all ass backwards like those war worthy words and fear in those eyes that are deeper than oceans that rage in my heart that rave about things lost at sea day and night we submerge ourselves now take a deep breath prepare for revolution that final conclusion of irrational delusions and paranoid fantasies playing out more like nightmares more and more you mar your own face dont you realize you own your place and lace that you weave in and out of your wounds.

Take a deep breath...

We Were Evil in Many Ways

Pushing through the tired skin to tear through the surface, the words come without surprise, and even though it was never meant to last, thats alright. Im doing the best I can, Im scratching and screaming, Im kicking and learning, Im killing to learn how to live. No matter where I turn somebody Ive already met is reaching out to shake my hand. The romance ran along to new times and new games, while my heart is still chained to my dick, but whos got my brains back, could you give me brain back so I dont forget about the things left to rot in the back of my brain.

Driven

By all the things I stand aside I pay the price and then hustle the meaning. So, I walk here, and then there, and the wind blows the same direction every time. Im all feet and no hands and tired of this debasing subsistence. This incompatible life partner thats  keeping the wheels turning, thats keeping the will to walk the desert. Like machines with a job, I stay like steel and mutter nothing about failure, I look you in the eyes and automate the truth. The same questions with the same answers is a little frustrating but reassuring of the routine ridicule I endure on the account of my good conscience.

Thank God for Whiskey Dick

In those times when fucking the left eye of a jack-o-lantern sounded like great times. Permanent it might be, but it forces me to truly think about my decisions, and how they might affect the poor, innocent pumpkin. I may have been evil and driven to lengths of bouts with worth and the worth of not functioning, but Im embarrassed too. I have feelings dammit, just like that pumpkin right?

Duality

Is something Im grateful for today, not to sound duplicitous. Ive lost count of how many days Ive spent waiting for God to show up, to remove my shortcomings, to validate a disease. Now the knot in my throat is something I cant swallow anymore and the tears stay here. Here, here. Every coin has two sides, in some cases one side has a number and the other has a prayer. Doctor Bob couldnt help me, so I decided to help myself to the feast of life, Ill try to forget about everything one day, but for now I just wont talk about it.

Dark fairytales ring loud in hallways
Adorned with many a broken frame,
They use to call your name out of memory
And sweet affection,
Now they sit quietly and wish away.
Wish away in which way?
The way that is the only way
I say to myself not wanting to pray.

In a wicked wooden house set to blaze and burn
I pass the trays and at the clocks strike I sicken.
He looks to me with his nemesis reflecting in his eye
And I know then that escape is within reason.
The high collars choke even me
With a fist held to my chin,
How are we to eat without tongues?
We mustnt taste what we enjoy.
I looked to the mirror twice
Because at first I swore to have seen a monster,
We were but figures in mirrors
And monsters in our own way.

I find myself alone in a room
Resembling that of a memory Ive never had.
There are no mirrors or judgment,
Only a sliver of sunlight gleaming through the ceiling,
And a picture on the wall.
The picture looks like me,
Right now,
Im holding on to a loss,
And I like what I see

These strings which I bleed through and upon
Release me from troubled days and ways which I cradle
Depravity and its sisters.
The spiraled steel blisters my fingers as I perform till rawness
In front of a thousand forms of myself.
I am the creations that are spawned from the wickedness of mahogany
And malicious magnificence.
It is my salvation that I find in hallowed bodies of wooden wonders
And solidity of my faith in beauty.
A life form in its own which I chain and whip with expression
Brutalizing its timber as if it were my own flesh.
My love is the music of expression,
And I will marry melody.

Cradling you as you whither,
Witnessing your hunger,
Hunger...
Hunger for your psychosis,
A neurosis of screaming sorrow.
Watching you drown in a maelstrom of your own self-corrosion,
Oxidation of your mental health,
Emphasis on DESTRUCTIVE.
What lurks beyond your war-torn eyes is something beast like,
An addict of an addict whos in love with an addict.