The Show

(Velvet Curtains slowly raised)

Love, Oh, Love (A man with tear soaked eyes, kneeling to the heavens)
Our common descripancy
Oh such an annoying plague
of colours, screaming (Raining here)

Our wit, nowhere/hiding (A sad lady, in the balcony)
'Tis not? Does it, sense-ful?
Muddy grammar,
Stuttering, falling keys
I <3 U (Snapshots of the sea bathing with the sunset)

A blizzard of too many
a thing (A thousand pictures of couples:: here, there, everywhere)
come dazzle, this sweet
lunacy filled with
your images (A black n' white picture, falling, slowly)

And now for the encore...
A knife in my heart. (A man with tear soaked eyes, kneeling to the heavens)

(Velvet Curtains slowly dropped)

Negotiable Emotions

Tears of heaven from pitch black sky
I saw your renegade blues in the shadows
of a candle lit room full of
shouting in stillness, wailing in silence

Thou art -- thy smiles in a minute
of gloom, simmering like butter melting
in a sea void of collapsing rainbows

There's not a peace, a thing of simplicity
in the many contours of your face

If there may be a million, there must be ONE.

Tosser Dawson

Tosser Dawson’s just a guy
Whose craptitude’s breathless
A few years ago, he went
Numb with his own Narcissism
He believed he was
A medium
Of sorts

Maybe Clementia saw this
So Clementia avoided Tosser
Like Tosser was maggots on a
Flea burger

That was, I believe, the beginning
Of Tosser Dawson’s descent
Into the abyss of eternal damnation
Where scentless flowers bloom
Where a black sun hover the fields
Of buckets(I mean millions of them)
Of spits

Tosser Dawson’s just a guy
With balmy feet and
A reckless imprudence of global proportions

After transcribing the gut of
His emotions,
He pulled the trigger.

“BANG!”

Ah sweet what a sweet release, Tosser

Tosser. Tosser? Oh -- don’t pretend to die.

The Truth about Neon Lights

Spare me the details –
As I chugged down, bottom’ up, and all
The bitter/alcoholic(?) tasting gin
The dizzying stray of laser lights dancing
Tirelessly between corners, from corner to corner
No spaces spared

“Careless Whispers”
Blended, remixed,
And a lap dance two seats away

So this is the place?
Yup –
You could not stop staring
Where the spot light rests
The naked, bath in artificial ray
Her smiles empty, her dance fuming

She might not love me anymore –
You ducked, pouring on another glass
There’s no profanity in this make believe
Reality, does it?
My silence deafening the sounds of this
Dim lit room of hidden motives
Your agreement, knife to your wailing

People change – I poured one too.
Funny, how moderate our voices against
The angst of spurting speakers
Barely making a word of what I said
You nod
The scars are only visible to the heart
You have a wry grin that betrays
The weeping beneath

Ah here comes my/your lady

Cloaked in smooth glowing skin, colors bounce as she
Positions in front, her dexterity mind-boggling
In perfect timing, like symmetry between triangles
She moves, her hips tell a million emotions
But her eyes only of one: LOSS.

Sick Cars, Sicker Cartwheels

Caveat, the screeching of metal to metal
As bits travel in nano-light-seconds of internet traffic
That is how I imagine the web
Take the fax machine off the purple table then
Smash the blue printer on the floor
Pixels of pale faces appear on the choked monitor
Cheers to your pseudonym, a crack name splattered
Across your endless comments, deafening
Text-filled rants
Your key strokes, drum one character at a time
55 wpm, on average but diminutive of shame or
Purpose
Stalk the girl next door
Drool over the deliberate zoomed in pix of the ladies
Comfort room – and more
It’s already past four – morning
You grin, your virtual life never ends, never tires

You spurt, then curse, over with
Such a small word: “Suck.”
Broken links, and a horde of malware, 3 clicks away
Yet you push, the “R_U_sure_Ur_8teen?” button
Those lovely dole eyes, looking blankly at you, as your perversion mounts
Such life, the honesty of a virtual escort or
For lack of a better term, companion of
Your wiliest dreams, Medusa to your lost seaman
Birds circle your screen, as the alarm calls out – It’s seven
Good Morning!
You grin, your virtual life never ends, never tires

Amazing!
6 gig of copyrighted songs, beautiful and behaved
In your loyal but old HDD
Michael Buble’ singing out…”Call me irresponsible”
You are, and you love every moment of it
The warez-machine makin’ serious dough though
Blown away, the 1 million dollar you won from
A ghost contest
Thank you gods of the IP addresses
A hacked bank account
A stolen identity
A herd of living, breathing spams

But still
(It’s as expected)
You grin, your virtual life never ends, never tires

Lost Letters

Permit me, dear madam, to
Express these, these
Endless navigations of the sad heart
Amongst the jovial lights of New Orleans
I cradle a soul, wanting

Disgraced by a mortality fused
With greed
Your touch, I hunger
Your lips, I crave
Your imagery, vivid
At every morning’s wake

Oh dear madam, mercy --
Bitter and habitual, and sanity deprived
Your words, running wild in my mouth
Your whispers send shiver to my spine
Your eyes, fixated on my walls
I scream in anger, I scream in grief
I scream your name – a broken belief

The days, sanctuous
The nights, pitch black
Devoured by a ruthless emotion
Crippled by a blinding desire
A novena of adoration, I pray
Heed my confessions
My long lost ladylove
It is you, the ink to my pain’s
Pages, the coffin to my
Hope’s hope

Allow me then to conclude this,
This conclusion of no end
If you find my cravings blasphemous
The sanctity of my desire flawed
It is because I loved
And lost
But lost Love have I not

Barely Minimum

Tell me your anger
Don’t drool on the floor
Here
Take the napkin
Wipe them
Sappy as you are, furious
With the world

“It wasn’t meant to be”, between hiccups
Your words
Sincerely unpredictable
Your hate, justifiable
Get up
Don’t stoop
I mimic the confessional box
The little lit room
Exploded with
Grief

Oh now, it’s getting corny
Soothing you isn’t always enough
Don’t Cha?
I hit a brick wall with
A plastic chair
Just say something
Send to sender - - don’t
My spontaneity deliberate
My surprise expected

But you have to tell me
Tell me your anger
And don’t drool on the floor
Another napkin?
Another door
To your endless
Grief
Oh what
A poor soul