Living in the Mind of the Alligator

Living in the mind

of the alligator,

I crunched down hard

on strings

that tied me down

to the underworld

as she grinned at me in my sleep,

tossing my brain,

back and forth,

oh so back and forth,

creating harmonies

from my miseries

that had a language

of their own.

My stinging head

lay somber and sober,

and an empathic stare

from a stranger

undressed me in my

well hidden despair,

understanding me more deeply

in that fading instant than

most people who pretend to know me well,

seems these solar flare moments

are occurring with gathering speed,

ticking backwards on a pinwheel.

Shrill screams

shattered windows,

glasses melted down

to their insides,

the mirror was the only ghost

who saw my tears,

heard my haunted moans

from the graveyard

while I danced the Charleston,

swung round and around

by the sly tombstones and trombones

who tried to get me drunk

so I would take them home

to fuck and leave quickly

with the guilt stained to their faces

in the middle of the dawn

who draped itself on our skin

without a whisper

or any explanation.

As the black and blue butterflies

flit to and fro

in front of my hindsight,

the only patterns

that seemed to repeat

were the reaper’s raspy tones

skipping on the phonograph,

and the steam that

enjoyed soaking and clutching

my windows

in the early yawning morning

when I took my youngest brother

to school

so he wouldn’t have

to ride the sticky seated

yellow jacket bus

with its scissor sting occupants,

bumping and smashing

into each other with hormones

and vengeance.

Though I tried to

choke down my insidious pain,

it seeped out of my aching pours

anyway,

not giving a downtrodden damn

or waiting for permission,

alchemy taking tea

with the monsters

I slept with,

watching the people

who I had been there for,

time and again,

wiping their tears away

with my bleeding hands,

they then to leave me all alone in my

retching,

howling,

sorrow,

to hitchhike back home

without even a hint of compassion

on their vacant faces,

just cold stone staring back at me.

So instead of waiting around

for you to be done with your cigarettes,

your lie stained teeth,

your liquored up false promises and

fake adorations,

I wandered away weary by myself,

talking with

the sky spirits,

singing to the tree limbs

in their waking hours,

mouthing words

to the water

flowing down

my temperamental skin,

praying with my face to the earth

in hoping reverence

that grief will leave me be,

even for just a breath,

so I can rise up

with the moonlight

in holy ecstatic pleasure

to forget who I am. 

Rubber Acid Hymnal

Whirling sandstorm,

I craved to come down upon you,

away from my wretched ethers,

into your sleep

like soothing soft cool rain

on hot sweat dripping days,

quite a wondering

wide-eyed height.

Could I tender out

your vicious nightmares

in the waking hours?

Oh please

with a sweet small sting and a sigh

to the left and right corners

of your eyelids.

I wept sudden and full,

staggered desperate breaths on

rusty bed corners,

up all night and

the days to come,

wanting to unburden

you so much so

that to not touch your quivering hands

makes me ill

with writhing flashes,

horrors performed

on our precious holy humanity.

The tortured souls

drove me mad to

exorcise old

quanderings and procedures,

tight misconceptions and

trafficked mechanisms,

stale perceptions of wrath wars

and egos,

violent instincts,

anger raging out on me

so hard,

I choked agony down,

thus found in my bones breaking

slowly,

under the pressure

of it all.

Magic patterns and witnesses

then must thrust and twist,

wrap around us

beauty and empathy,

connected to

the river flows,

energy weaving our liquid

and juicy spirits together

in hallowed peripheries and prophets,

regardless of the

undertaker knocking

loud aggression

as to almost drown

out the supple sound

of surges and tidal waves of revolution,

superconductor connections,

electric rolling earths,

delight realms

of euphoria

to just loosen the

grinding jaw,

even a little,

the muscle aches eased slightly,

the stress headaches

painted desperate desired sanctuary on our faces,

insomnia tripping elements

into suffering spaced

dark visions

of the games being played,

temperatures gnashing,

growling out at

each other

in teeth sharpening suicidal tendencies.

I panted then,

with sharp moans,

within the struggled coliseums

to hide discretely

the trauma,

blushes and downturned eyes

to the brutal ground,

shake out the heartbreak

and the death rates,

my introverted

awkward

octopus ponderings

striving for words,

yet found only movements

etched round my curves,

even just faint whispers

to kiss lightly

the wounds,

burns and blisters

on innocent lovely

skin,

yet even the flesh itself

thrashes about

in its restless caged soul,

supernatural natures

harnessed by the

toxic systems of

desolate cement,

dead eyes,

vacant complacent airs

of oppression and

unjust accountants

screaming lies and corruption.

Enough.

We silenced the idolized hymnal of

the almighty him and masqueraded her,

their faked flailing

excuses stomped out

by our

hopeful staggering cries,

to our families,

blood and water entities

howling back

to healing,

to living love out

even with boots

crunching our necks.

I laughed out loud at

your silly stupid scared propaganda.

Ha,

As if faked fucked,

even bloody

plastic and rubber acid

could keep us down. 

I Painted You

I painted you red

and purple twisted reverence

on walls,

dimly lit bathroom stalls,

kitchenettes with twittering birds,

without any questions as to why

or answers really,

just a deep

burning pain

and a head cough.

Yes,

of course deary,

there were always

scars to talk of,

fire licking,

dripping

from my fingerprints

while I moved slowly,

curved and caressed

water and earth,

never to break,

just to be

unbound,

frothing on the

inner thighs of the sea.

Oh my gentle mistresses and misters,

have no hurtful worries

for your pain

and furry

subsides with

the tides and

churnings of

stomachs,

breaths deep and sensual,

penetrating

heavy burdens

like snow melting

on the tongue,

slipping subtle down the throat,

thrusting within

till the moon shines,

the raven cries,

tantric whispers in ears,

hairs stand to attention,

beats harkened

to the dawn

as if we would

never be seen again

through the serpent’s

almighty squinting eye.

Shaken

Click, click, clacking,

radios spinning

in wonderment

at vowels

spat out

by my tongue alone,

in the night

as I dream

awake.

Orgasming out

sex dolls,

juicing flames,

forked fucks,

confused laughs,

harmonic whispers,

erect philosophies,

sensual shamans,

pagans named

in different

masks

keeping

abstract

whirlwind time,

boots set ever so delicately,

on the floor,

after banging and blitzed,

pressed backs

against cupboards,

titillating the glassware,

scratch marks

down the lily and violet

wallpaper

to the left of the bay window,

honeydew holiday

breakfast nook,

we moaned together,

though then I flashed to my

inner mockingbird harlequin,

stained with

crumbling castles,

cruel alchemy

performed on top of me,

tortured apothecaries

enacted,

poisoned elixirs tested

out on my breath,

my sex,

my bones broken,

and blood

bled dry,

round and round

we go,

with the wrath and miracles,

merry go weary,

and I wondered

if even the ceiling fan

would bother to care,

would remember my name,

when I go

quietly and quickly

from here

with a shudder

and a lick of my Cheshire lips,

a mad hatter shake of my hips.

Goodbye alice,

oh how I miss you

in the mists and the sun. 

Kali's Spirit

Kali’s spirit seemed

to softly land,

surprisingly enough,

lifting clouds

of chaos as if

veils from on

top of my head,

the moon

shone bright

dripping down from

the sky to

its own reflection

in pure ecstasy

deep into the ocean

with smiles

turning to laughter,

and the

trees seemed

to notice,

they move along

to the singing

throat vibrations

that fell off

my green-tongued scales

and rhapsodied notes,

hierophant and

third-eyed hands

talking in their sleep

of dreams,

planes of heaven

on earth,

I still believed

absolutely always,

in miracles,

even when stuck

in pits of asphalt

with burning toxins,

being poured on skulls,

crossbones and crows,

eating flesh,

stomach upsets,

I coughed and spat out

that violence

shoved at you,

at me,

and dance,

very firmly in the sunshine,

in streams and

deep caverns

with splendor,

in tandem

tantric collective,

holy sisters,

sacred brothers,

reverent fathers,

wisdom mothers,

strongly yet humbly

we stomp the earth

in great thanks and celebration,

for the birthing

from weeping wombs,

carnal serenades,

green colors

to the worlds end and

beyond,

stars and angels,

love and light

be with you,

Kali and her

Metaphysics.