Poetry, Poems, Poet... and Paintings

Titled: Sunday Morning

look at DJ man

walking down the street

on a Sunday morning

with his walkman

look at Mr Beer can

wallking down the street

at 9:02 am

on a Sunday morning

waiting for the next

person to walk

past our house

to continue this poem

no one

will come for the rest

of the morning

she smiles... we laugh

there's someone coming

they are on this side

of the road

it is sport's man

he left his tie at home

two minutes later

it is Terry, our nieghbor

leaving to go to the shop

but he never came back.

Patrick and Erika

written Nov 11th 2001

__________________________

she called

her father

she took

a step forward

the sky is red

bleeding

lovers -

fire

fragile

these bedsheets are stained

eggs crack

windows are made from glass.

written Nov 11th 2001

___________________________

laying on my back

in the garden

the clouds wash

slowly across the sky

sea gulls, pigeons

sparrows scribble patterns

the sun highlights the

corner of the clouds

northern winds creep

down trees like insects

trees shiver and

softly shake

it is beautiful

I love you

Nov 4th - 11th 2001

_______________________________

Fuck me up

Treat me bad

then crucify me

and we shall package my pain

and Santa will deliver

to Vincent for Christmas

it will be wrapped up

ever so tightly and

placed under the tree where children

with rosy cheeks can dance around

(written 1994)

___________________

Titled: Outside

The student has the luxury of

hearing what you say

as he walked down the street

let me kiss your breast

like a child

forgive me if I play around

and make one jealous of

the other for a while

kiss me

hit me

again

It's minus zero

and I'm here

outside

questioning why I am

here wasting my colors

I am not an artist

a lable

a decorated identity

a wasted thought

Nothing like a little frostbite

to the brain

Sorry, I will stop talkin'

Maybe now we can listen

to the wind blow

or my pen die.

(written 1997)

____________________

Titled: You should not be reading this....

Feed the spiders

Wake up - it's time to work

Everyone has to work

Don't forget to feed yourself

There's a wood bug

an empty tube of paint

someone sitting on the floor

The music is playing

but you don't hear a sound

The neighbor across the street

is peaking from behind the bush

trying to look inside

The flies are fightin', feedin'

off the germs on my feet

this though tickles, the cut on

my baby finger has clotted

This is just another useless blurb

of empty words, I'm sorry for

wasting your time... asshole.

(written 1997)

____________________

Titled: suite case

this package of skin

seems nothing more

than a suite case, a

luggage for angels

an expensive vessel, a

breathing box with excess organs

__________________

Titled: Stranger

What goes on in Central Park

who lurks in the dark

over the bridge

down the path

behind those trees

there lies a

stranger

Stranger inside of me

inside of me

who wishes to spy

with his little eye

and see...

Cause there's a killer

that wants to be free

There is a corpse

under a tree

sleepin'

finger's bleeding

in a red sponge

tampon shirt

There is a stranger

stranger

inside of me.

(written 1994)

_______________________

Titled: Take me in

Warden

Take me to my cell

take me

take me to my cell

take me

take me to a place

I can't do no wrong

take me to a place

I can't do no harm

Oh (scream)

Let me in

Take me in

take me

Warden

'What is goin' on.....'

Let it rain

let the silver sky crawl

all over me

let the rats

let the snakes

roam the city streets

under the dark clouds

through factory fields

and smoke stacks

Stumbling down cushioned core-a-doors

Staring at porcelain ceilings

take me

take me in

under your butterfly wings

take me

take me in

to your Rainbow eyes

take me

take me in

to your dancing dreams.

(written 1994)

_____________________

Titled: Comfort me

under the stars

under the night of my love

under the moving clouds

comfort me

comfort me insane

under the grass

under the dirt of my skin

under a heavy rock

comfort me

comfort me insane

I want to be

I want to be in your fish bowl, no

I want to be in your brain, no

I want to be

comfort me

comfort me insane.

(written 1995)

_____________________

untitled:

I'm O.K.

I'm fine

There is nothing on my mind

Where are you?

Where have you been?

Prozac

Was it a heart attack?

He is not coming back

Walking rain

There is no shame

Just a little pain

I'm O.K.

I'm fine

There is nothing on my mind.

Published in The Path not Taken

Library of Congress ISBN 1-57553-003-1

(written 1994)