Dissections 2 – Pen of the Damned

THIS ISN’T FOR YOU

This isn’t for you
This poem
This song
Everything and anything that’s ever come before.

Cause you haven’t been worth my breath
You haven’t been worth my time
You haven’t been worth the wait
For this pen’s ink to dry.

So to you
And to you alone
This isn’t for you
This beer
This shot
Everything and anything I’ve ever drank before.

Cause you haven’t been worth my buzz
You haven’t been worth the sickness
Or this need to die.

So to you
And to you alone
This is nothing.

CAMP OF REALIZATION

Imploring eyes
Though I can’t see you
Even as you bleed
Leaving a dripping trail
Of gristle
Over the blankets of comfort I draw for you
As my words remain the coldest reminder of all
That liars reach conclusions
And truth tellers grasp at straws
Soon this sun will set
The wind will howl
Cross the land mother moon
Exposes for all.

HOUSE OF CARDS

Man
Sitting beside me
Straining with weary eyes
To see the devil’s script in his palm.

Woman
Sitting next to me
Loving with open eyes
The man shut from her heart.

Couple
Sitting across from me
Reveling in dreamy talk
Strengthening a foundation of denial.

Bartender
Fueling the fire
Let it burn.

THURSDAY NIGHT AT THE PUB

From here
I see everything
Nuance, twitch, inflection
Nothing goes unnoticed
Yet nothing judged
Why should I?
I sit merely to observe
Watch, study, comprehend
From here
I know everything
Life, loss, lover
Your entire world now mine
Yet I’m unknown
Why am I?
I’m merely here Thursday nights.
From there
You see nothing
Pain, want, need
So much goes unnoticed
And you don’t hear
How can you?
Above the jukebox and pleas for double scotch.

HERO JUST BECAUSE

You’re not the hero of the day
You don’t even own a cape
Keep running into empty buildings
Keep saving dreams once they’ve broken
It’s easier that way for you
To collect that cash reward
And adulation
From those even more oblivious
You’re only faster than a speeding bullet
Cause you take the coward’s way of things
You’re a fraud, a fraud
The hollow need something to believe in
The scared need reasons to run away
The children need a role model
Fashioned from something other than a rental suit.

YOU DON’T GET TO DO THIS

No!
You don’t get to do this
You don’t get to steal my pain
And use it like a kerchief round your neck.

Only I know how dear it is
Only I know of its warm invite
Before its cold deep bite into my flesh.
But you see it and wish to take it,
Tame it
Drag it back into its cage.

No!

It won’t happen
I won’t allow it
You don’t get to do this
Not anymore.

For if my pain you steal from me
Is something you truly want
Then know how dear my smile will be
With my fingers entwined round your neck.

FIDO

I see you often
walking your puppy
Watching
as you jerk its choker
until its tongue protrudes in a pink slather
until its eyes roll in its head.

I see you often
leading your puppy
Watching
as you drag it through mud
through thorny brush
kicking it from behind.

I see you often
petting your puppy
Watching
as you slap its face
dig fingers into its ribs.

Funny how time flies.

I see your dog often
running on its own now
Watching
its leash untethered
burying its bone deep into your neighbor’s hole
pissing and shitting on your car
Good boy.

THREE SIMPLE WORDS

Three simple words
languishing
in night
lingering
upon lips
festering
in shadows.
Three simple words
shared without provocation
born in deeper shallows of grey
My gift yours
this bitter pill
forced to consume
shared without invocation
born in deeper pools of black
languishing
lingering
festering
Swallow, choke, die.

UNDER THE GUN

Such a crafted hand
eviscerates
splays skin until bloody ribbons
speak my story so precisely
and just as I wish to scream no more
my tale starts anew
another chapter split open
truth seared
raw.

THIEVERY

He lived to see another day
That poor prick’s heart still beating within his chest
He’d stolen it
With dull blade
And a shaking disloyal hand
Devoured it; consumed joyously all his own.
The last remnants
Not the crimson dripping from chin
As some would have you believe
But the jackhammer thud of taken essence
Screaming bloody murder between his lungs.

BLISS

Promise me
The drink you pour will be my last
For I’m beyond saving
Yet still a good tip in your pocket
If you keep me alive.
That brew will send me to the gutter
That brandy will keep me in the streets
This booze will deliver me to the gates
I thought I could never find.
You seem to be my Maker
At least on this night
Because you’ll right all my wrongs
And make my wrongs worse than what they were
Thank you
May I have another?

RITE

He’s barely cooled
And you’ve got him packed
His entire existence fit neatly
Into department store bags
The likes of which
He’d never been welcome inside before
His gentle presence shoved
With careful consideration, mind you
Of how one end might interlock with the other.

Heartless cruel bitch
You wiped him clean
From your blackened slate of memory
Already smudged
Of chalky goodbyes
No thought given
To any thread of lingering
For you’ve cut the strand and made it to burn.

The final indignation
Does not resonate with the fact
That you’ve left him no chance to cool
But the absurd notion
That I’ll grant him
This
His final ride
In a procession of stale boxes.

Oh no
He lives on otherwise in my grassy field meadows
Not your yellowed department store bags.

I AM

I am rattlesnake
I am earthquake
I am lightning rod
I am heart attack
I am cool hand
I am cold heart
I am motherfucker
I am father love
I am old dog
I am sly fox
I am lone wolf
I am broken man
I am deep sea
I am shallow thought
I am long kiss
I am almighty fuck
I am bright sun
I am evil dark
I am black sheep
I am wise one
I am.