Alice Watches

I guess you

didnt see alice

watching you,

like pictures

playing,

dolls dancing

round,

speaking in

sounds,

in my head

I saw you,

sensed your

waves and

deeds done

over sneaky smiles,

twitching eyes,

closing doors

quickly,

pacing lines,

walls smoothly

shutting down

on themselves.

I looked out windows

to forget

sad nuances,

maybe days

or minutes

of ceiling fan turnings over

hazy rapes

on carpeted bedroom floors,

razor blades,

molestations on cruel couches with TVs blaring

war re-runs,

callous thrusts on hard cement

driveways without words,

violations in truck beds,

sadistic cornerings against sleazy offices walls,

closet shamings,

between singing

and crying howls for mercy

though he would never listen,

between humiliations

and manipulation nails,

phone call lies

and degradations,

you are silly,

you are stupid,

you are dumb,

and why cant you

see how wrong you are?

I ate a hole in

my head to

shut you out,

over and over,

again today

and every day,

sometimes now,

the way you made

me feel comes

back to me

as a flash of thunder,

ricocheting off my bones,

thumping like a swamp

inside my skull, 

a scream,

and I crawl,

slimy to self-hatred,

that 17 year old girl

loving a tyrant

just across the

sun-harsh way.

And then I shake

awake again.

Ah!

to breathe

and stumble

out,

a dragoned

witch-

haunted,

but in the lovely moonlight,
I was the bringer
of my own passion,

so softly touching
and healing myself

by liquid fingers,

ever just so,

oh,

sultry vibrations

moved and pulsed

the body

upward to

divinity in

ecstasy, always.

Enlightened pleasure

is deeper and moaning,

heavy sweeter,

mmm,

oh,

fuck yes,

please.

Awake now,

I see.

Your cruelty has no

power over me now. 

Confessions of the Burning Phoenix

Angels in archways,

I ran my car down the

dirty ditch road and into your

peripheral vision,

bloody and bruised,

crawling towards the air and earth,

my hands dug in deep,

and freed myself from crunched metal,

warped screaming seatbelts,

tire track stains,

upside down falling to the gravel

as the headlights race by.

I don’t mind resting here

for a time,

seconds had strung me out

like new meds

mixed with liquor and crushed ice.

Watching you popping pills

was boring me and so I slept instead

and tried to forgive you for not

fucking me every night and morning.

Damn it,

things were swimming and going well,

and then that

cancer sickness spread and

left us lurching,

back and forward.

Through late nights

of hysteria and tantric consecutive visions of

death and sex,

as hours drifted over

our weary heads and

we felt we were losing it all.

The battle degrading us further

into silence.

And with that flooding

of trauma,

back into my bloodstream,

I began to awake,

once again,

in the middle of the night

with dreaming of past hauntings,

that man taking my little innocence,

over and over,

with lies and cruelties,

without asking first,

a violence so brutal

it left me numb for years following,

I cried and wanted to

bleach my brain for thinking

of that year I danced

with the devil

and he grinned and giggled

at my bloody suffering.

Id love to forget

all the acts of anger and aggression

that he played out

on my bare bones,

but the senses and memories

stay and like to linger

in the morning.

And so,

though the abuse still

faces me in the mirror,

from time to time,

I remain breathing

through the pain,

living love and better,

forgiving louder,

dancing and

performing my sexuality

with vibrant beats of my heart,

and stamping feet on the ground,

shouting,

I survived,

and Im still staggering forward.

Phoenix burning

and yearning a revolution

to its knees, at least,

looking and howling in the moonlight. 

Play.

Where's my fucking pen?
Struck by a hurricane tornado,
blood from the sky,
misfits become
Dante's suicide trees,
white cedar,
sharp blade to the skin
as the leaves fall in autumn
and the bark rips away
from the trunk
screaming,
begging for mercy.

I weep for you
rebel rolling drug dealers
with the mist in your eyes
that tries to hide your self-loathing
due to abuse over the years,
the Father hits her over and over,
you watch,
and it breaks your soul into pieces.
I hear those hounds
haunting you in the darkness.

It festers me so
to see the sorrow
drift in and out
of your eyes,
like sipping hot coffee,
it burns all the way down
your spine.
We can make each other better,
angels falling,
seraphim luring me
to the cross,
we land on the rocks,
and the lighthouse
dims with a wink and simple
twist of euphoria.

The torture of our women
in better homes and gardens,
we stay silent,
until all the light
is drained from their soft sad bodies,
sick humiliation
of half our generation.
Though in suddenly waking,
you realize that if one aches,
we all drip blood,
just a little even.

Connection is the door
to freedom and sexual divinity,
but,
you already know that,
deep down.

The Truth about Mary

War times and magic,
the albatross suffers
from the working will
of a wanting world.

Dance me out of your spirit,
if you can honey,
with the rythmn moving
you ever closer though
to my open stomach.

Gothic aphrodisiacs,
blue amphetamines
with the red stripe
down the middle,
hot lesbians on the subway,
tearful goodbyes in airports,
dial 9 to phone a number outside
this hospital room,
tortured minds stumbling down alleyways, and
still many nations bleed
on the cement of our
white collared bellies.

Swear words in German
like fuck and cunt etched
into the wall of the bathroom stall
I sat in for three hours
while he decided whether to take
me prisoner as his hanged man:
crypts of dead pharisees
and godly hallucinations.

Creep through you,
slither in and out,
vertigo prophecy
and cheap liquor.
Goddamn you,
send me a white lie sign
because the Devil in me
is taking over,
and you like that,
don't you?

Anarchy and sex drives
just make me want to hide
in my closet sometimes,
close the door and breathe
so very heavily in the dark,
which I do offen
when you upset me.

Hide and seek,
theatre erections and perfume
that reminds me of winter and cum.

Wet bodies,
a tattoo of Ishtar,
the goddess of war and sex,
on the back of your neck:
fucking in the bed of a pick-up truck,
in the grass behind your house,
on the concrete in your driveway,
even when I didn't want it,
you never heard me anyway
so I just shut up after awhile.

True in my memory,
as if time wore suspenders
and spoke with a cockney accent,
though in my experience she keeps
her mouth shut to spare you of her pain,
a deep red trench of grief and impotence,
and this I understand,
because her eyes give away
many of her secrets.

She was raped in that small red room
as a trumpet
sat on it's stand
and the ceiling fan whined about the view.

And yet,
she crawled out of the void
and re-entered the earth's atmosphere,
awakened magic through volcanic rebirth,
as I suppose her father had instructed her to do,
before he died
and was under the ground
somewhere in Michigan.

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.