Violence Reconciled.

 I wanted a white wedding, I guess when I was in middle school. A lot has changed since then. I wanted my dad to walk me down the aisle and my grandfather to do the ceremony. I don’t know (with the liberal differences and the death of my father) if either of these are going to work out.

 I have lost everything dear to me in a spiritual or religious sense. I lost you more than anything and you could never tell someone else this loss. There aren’t words to accept a death that was not meant, was too early, and never enough.

            I just need you here, without you I am almost sane but not far enough, big enough, old or wise enough to learn yet. I suppose, I would be dealing with your death in a matter of fact way but then the tires on both sides of the car went flat and I lined the pathways of the forests I wrote in when I was a kid.

 The having to stare down the day is the troubling thing about all of this. Was there a whisper of you around that could lead me in a direction, a tunnel to fall through- to know for once that I am doing the right things, I am doing the best I can.

            Steal the light and experience from me, I gave you nothing and everything and it wasn’t right, I guess. You never seemed happy and I need to go home, sink in to what I don’t know- cry out a moment and figure out the tears that descend down my wrists. Hold on, wait for me in patient silent fashion, if possible. I have my own demons that I have to yet wrestle again and again with the angel just standing around and staring.

            I can only muster to save myself, devil take me down again. I will want to save you when you fall down every time though I will not always be able to be there. I can’t see for stammering at the grievances that raise up and faint fuck out. Let me freely discover again the beauty in a night, up at all hours, writing and silent twitching. A fall can be heard from any miles away you please, my body resonating with the heavens. 

            I escape the hangman just barely again. The trees want to burn now, the forecast and intuition were cloudy but you still get a sunburn kind of weather. Whether I was up for it or not, I will fight my own bones in the backyard of the raven that screeched and came round for another beer and left the porch in good health, I swear on my life and yours if you found room in there to care.

            I will drink to your good health and your sex change if that is the direction you are going, I just love you without the doubts of devil’s cards and naming things like raincoats when I could slip between the raindrops just fine myself. I need your undying lust, at least,

 keeping a space for me when I came out of the coffin and I woke up bright and shady, inspiring a love song by the lone ranger, the hitchhiker from east to west drops his suitcase, neat pants and a tie become boxers and a tie, girls in skirts offering up some semblance of cold living and the people in between.

            I need former selves’ strengths and old healings from darker times than these to proceed into this unknown bliss or I will meet you in hell, for a brief stay and then away up to the molten earth to rekindle a spark in something. Angels in their socks, slip on the wooden floors in their hallways and answer the phone when the baby is miscarried. 

I will hold you as you cry over what you thought was a calling, now to live under the sand. We lose and are found left behind even in the most undressed of times. There is blood on the carpet, unerased with time. There are sounds of water and coughing, dead men talking in their low rumble pitches. I see between the curtains, each veil naked and unraveled in front of me.

            I just spat out at you that I was too queer to get you to hush you rambling fucking mouth cause I knew somewhere deep down that you just wanted my thighs brushing your lips for a quick moment and then to move on and tell your friends you had fucked someone strange once, but we shall carry on, each with her and his own personalities that come out on stranger occasions than this one. I felt pathways widen and surround us like stained glass, bars outside all the windows, burn the church down whilst people are still in it- sin beyond all repugnance. A place of sanctity, I come to your heights and stories for sanctuary- not for a fire under my feet with my imaginary kids and my dying family altogether. 

I hate always cleaning up your sick and forced fake mess, at least feel the tinge of uncertainty and we all desire to hide our faces sometimes. Mark the walls with your disgrace and we shall entertain you, for a moment when the lights dim and you forget all of your worries. I whore out the repentance like a blunt sword. For a time, my life felt like gravel alleys and sex streeters set up for a fall every time.

            Sexual assault is hard to get over so fill the streets with walking weeping women but the femme fatals in bad romance with the sinister's underbelly are still being fucked when they don’t want to be. Help is on the way, my darlings- I remember daily and will not forget you. That feeling that life is short, no one knows what the hell they are doing- Alice describes to you again a bitter tasting circumstances, all I know was the fan was going round and round. I forgot the rest, to be sure.

            I say again to the light fixtures, I will forget you and what I have seen- God please, help me to forgive him just for a moment. I swear to let the world shift around me and surrender again to callings- even though I have been wrong. Some people are not to be changed, they stay as they ever were. Get out of there, if you can. 

I almost didn’t make it out of that mess so I understand the courage, the ugly sides of people and you blame yourself. Repeating in my head, I made him a monster but I can tame him again, right? Nope. The true human being once brought out, is virtually impossible to put back in it’s shell. Don’t try and save him, just run like hell, down the clean carpet stairs out into the street screaming. 

            Vertigo kept me falling down, weird angles of my house and places I’d never noticed before. Reality is relative (at least) once vertigo catches its breath with you. I understand there are consequences, different is hard in any form. But this is just right for me. I write in a passion that at least I get at the time... I think. 

I forever need to write what has happened to me, what I’ve seen and the works in place and behind and ahead. The whole fucking world is connected. I see that. The chaos that continues on until explosion and renewal, I am embodied chaos I swear sometimes. The world around me is scary at shit.

            Maybe I will just seclude myself in a closet somewhere  forever and just try to avoid some crashes. Slow down and give in though to a little fun, chill it out and make some noise. I want to relax and do whatevers going on in my mind. No more systems and sacrifice, please, makes me so tired. I am miserable with all the confounding points and pains. Need a change, a snapshot of something new to hold on to or we shall go down the drain with the razor lather and blood like the rest, sometimes.

            Maze howls as we go through her twisted and narrow leaves: entrances and exits and whispers in so many languages gave me a headache and I had to sit down, take a nap for Christ’s sake. I will not tell anyone. We shall swap divinities if the self-righteous are still wanting something a bit more.

            Epic sex and death, we drive on waiting for a sign from the house of the beast, I guess until we start to action. We are waiting too long to act. We get it now or you don’t get it at all. Move on and profane with someone else. I’ve only got so many hours on this earth, I can’t be spending my time waiting for you to catch up. The earth is moving faster now and I am gonna keep up as I can. You spin on the universe, then it concerns you too, my friends. You and I give up, shed our skins and start over.

            We shake out our machine knowledge, shut that out, dance steal ash off on a moment of reconciliation. Rise up from the electrical age, shudder the electric and keep strong in the mud of generations to come. Lead on with voices of ethics and we are our own swamp, float and soak it through and move it off. 

Blaze it up and again live the memories of our human versatility. If you are lucky you will be on a hit list from the government, if you are doing something right. Get out of that science speak, the kings and queens of harlem beckon us home and I take on their charge ahead, writing that fiend out the way. Making movement towards something new in the mind fuck chaos.

            The rules were really inevitable in the game that is the same every time. Take on a new story cause this is getting old like the hell hounds of greek ancestory. I could stand for a bit more poise and furniture than that to dance on top of. Hell, I grew up with seeing eye ghosts on both sides of my bed in the morning. I dare you to work harder than that to fix me in the middle of the ring, I bend easily out of most situations.

            Rusty guillotines were broken with the thunder of rage that I brought with me, my angels and descendents. The nearer we come to the grave the heavier I feel and know that  greed and time are against us. All together we look upwards toward a bluer sky and find salvation somewhere on this garden lamppost of a world. I walked my way quickly through the garden to lead you there, a soft touch and a tender composition of expression.

            I am never standing long. I am back to where I started, indeed and as always. Did you lose a father anything like mine? Love is hard to find in any closeted space so I am thankful, but now I sit alone. I smoke a cigar in your honor and writing in remembrance and not forgetting. Raise a glass, my customers, and forget the transparent abyss. Come in rational and non-linear tempests and we shall dine together again. 

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