Polaroid pictures in a museum at the matinee

Last night I saw the universe
Draped in Jimi’s red velvet jacket
Reflected through a rain drop
(That landed on your skin by accident)

American summers, American boys
Bright skies flutter in your eyes
As you smoke and drink your Spirits

Teenage angst folded in the crease
Porcelain stained by cassette tape grease
Paint under your nails and forehead

You were quick to snatch your hand away
When I hastily reached in your direction
Always sixty-four years ahead of time

Paul isn’t dead but he sang his own eulogy
“First You, Then Me”
I’d be thrilled to learn it’s a trilogy

Distraction of the Brain with an Invasion of Pain

Half-awake in a dream like haze,
the thought of you invades my mind,
and I refuse to have you here.

So, I slap my face,
feeling around for any fresh pimples to squeeze and
burst open to bleed and smear the bathroom mirror.

My favorite pastime is staring at the scars
of all those that I tried to get over
by causing some pseudo-distraction,
pain to get my heart out of my head
instead of dwelling where my feet should be.

I’ve left the ceiling permanently
for a place amongst the walking dead,
all those that just can’t seem to give up
on this sad, strange, sick life.

I gave up a long time ago,
but my human instincts and primal urges
keep me alive,
much to my dismay.

Oh,
if I could kill the mechanics
that keeps this old bag of bones running,
I would.

a divergence into a pastime of pyrotechnics

I wish God
(would smite us)
like the wrath of
an innocent child

(We bicker like)
old married couples

I am the wick
Light myself from the funeral fire
(and together we will)
transpire in the pyre

Bury me down in a wicked park
Shovel the words
like dirt into my mouth
A trap door:

“I only want cosmetic cosmos.
Give me fucking designer drugs to forever feel fine,
for you won’t like me when I’m angry, mad scientist.

Just elevate my consciousness.
I don’t want to exist on this plane of reality…
my cosmic slice of life, but could never get the whole pie.

Sometimes I feel like an atomic bomb,
an inanimate object humanized against my own will,
constructed to expire at maturation and explode.
My maker thought to make the most out of elemental casualties
through unbridled anger on a catastrophic proportion…

No longer a little boy, I’ve got the force of FXXMXX.
I burn brightly when I burst, and
when I ignite in flames, I’ll roll all over you.”

if two could only see that they are one.

timeless tale of two lovers
timelines and deadlines
bursting at the mouth at first
now silence in separate rooms

One gazes out the window, worlds away
Two comes sliding in close to play
Two whispers sweet affirmations
One winces brought back to relations

Two kisses One damply on the neck
One looks back to the foray of a speck
One wants to believe this love is true
Two believes that roses are blue

timeless tale of two stanzas
desperately trying to fit into one poem
bursting at the reams before
now just textbook social isolation

Imminent Liminality

Shadows
You can find me
Steeped in them
Over brewed
Dark and brooding
Suffocated by silence
Materialized into entropy
Formlessness
/
On the precipice of realization
Materializing out of the bleak
Nothingness of space
Into corporeal beings
Stitched into time
Right here and now
But always has been
And forever will be
Whether on earth
Or some other galaxy
/