Sleep to dream

He is a genius
a man who knows just how to talk
he walks on water while he stalks
he is a genius
brooding bad but oh so sweet
he is the only one
she thinks of when she sleeps
he keeps on watching
and she takes comfort in his wings
he’s like her angel
though he is dark and sometimes mad
he is a genius
where could there be a better man
he is a creature
an exotic kind of cream
he can be anyone
as long as she can sleep to dream


I be speaking

I be speaking poetry
words like spells
that bleed
you want freedom
so now it be
you talk in words
I write in dreams
everything a simple phrase
make the poetry to stay
in the mind and in decay
the flesh it fades
the word remains

Threading the ribbons

Take the ribbon and the thread
make her pretty once again
toss the glitter on the floor
spread the legs on old headboards
sow shut with lace and then pretend
make her know what comes from bed
cushions comfort and you said
once the baby’s born we met.

The shallows

Tainted poison lost in love
drunk off what was once to come
a dream, a story, a fantasy
something beautiful though shallow
and weak
cannot touch what isn’t there
turn the mirrors into stares
climb to places far to fall
build what once was tall and strong
shallow moments once in bed
real life awaits you in its stead.

The life of fiction

Everybody’s screaming
they want a new dark world
they want a dystopian present
they want a dictator to unfurl
this is not just America
it’s not only the red white and blue
the rest of the world is following
like they always do
everybody’s screaming
watching the world burn
though the birds are singing
and the sky is blue
everybody’s screaming
crying on the floor
we’re all in hysterics
but peace has left this war
we’re all beating ourselves
a right to self mutilation
everybody’s righteous
but nobody can see
the world that many of us live in
is a world of luxury
you can point out alternatives
places with real pain
but if you are pointing
you don’t notice the real rain
we’ve got problems everywhere
but not the ones you think
it’s easy to live in fiction
to live the written dream
to pretend that you are Katniss
and that you’re the chosen one
that you will save the world
by screaming reality isn’t fun.

Playing house progressively

White bells and wedding cakes
don’t know how long it takes
everything comes to a close
where nothing dies
but everything grows
perfect skies and perfect weather
friends and family gathered together
nothing here but left behind
girls they dreamt now those dreams cry
nothing yet has come to pass
girls turn to women women at last
but all the gardens have grown cold
nothing left they are all alone.

Between Fassbender and Ansari

Bad dates and mixed signals
can turn bad guys into heroes
when the passion that your into
turns to stun
when the lovin comes from someone
you dream of
and the six pack got your panties in a huff
but then you look up and it’s not what you
dream of
he’s a funny kind of talker
he’s not really that much taller
so the memory that got me in his bed
dead upon the moment I misread
and then a bad date turns to abuse
real quick
a mistake is a mistake
until one gets
a chance to turn the heroes into myths

Sex work

Watch me, watch me
pay to see my flesh
give me credit cards or checks
I’ll give you VIP access.
Touch me, touch me
pay to play with these, undressed,
give me cash to gain access
my flesh a paid event.
I am who I am
don’t you dare judge me like that-
my choice, my voice, my agency
stop forcing me to forget me.
Sex workers have mind’s on knees
we can give head while we think
victims are trafficked,
prostitutes are classic,
a way to make money
with the product we packin’-
trafficking isn’t
the same as my actions.
Sex workers are workers
through and through
stop using the victims
to fuck with our truths
victims need help,
sex workers need tools.
Watch me, watch me
I’m gonna make my money
gonna flaunt my body
sell my cunt-you can’t stop me.
Touch me, touch me,
every job is dangerous
I knew the risk when I got in
those that don’t
wouldn’t be considered employees
in that sense.
Sex workers are workers
by our own fucking choice.
That’s the difference between-
those who are trafficked
who don’t have a voice
and a sex worker
who is
gainfully employed.


We will be here long after the world dies for we know no death, no freedom. We will be here as the world destroys itself and watch in awe of its destruction. Everything built will crumble and every creation will know the darkness of oblivion. When the universe is silent we will still stand.


Have you ever just watched them?

Why? Have you spent time doing anything, but watching them? What else is there to do?

“Point taken.” the voice is oddly feminine like the bitter cold of a wave it broke through the unbearable silence.

“I’ve watched them since they were but tiny molecules, atoms even. I’ve never felt the need to watch much else. The cats maybe, house ones are incredible interesting from time to time.” the voice is masculine holding fire and envy, a longing one should not know in his position.

“Yeah, but I mean really watched them, know them by name, or even… what do they call it? Race?”
“I think you mean ethnicity, a much more profound concept I feel.”

“Fine, that.” there was a sigh and a flicker in the her eyes her movements like rain as she step softly toward him. “Have you ever picked one out, or a group, and just watched.”

“No. I’ve never cared much for the psycho babble of individualism they admire themselves too highly I much prefer watching the affiliated fight it out against their opposition. My favorite are the ocean groups, you would think its be the desert tribes but I enjoy the island movements, so dependant and isolated and yet in many ways harmonious.”

“You favor them for their geographic locations, you’ve mentioned it before, when you traveled amongst them. I don’t think their game plans matter much.” the joke was left empty as a storm brewed over the Atlantic. “Tragedy, or a bit of fear?”

“Taking bets? I doubt another tragedy will be occurring any time soon, none of them seem to realize the peril they are in.” standing he takes a step to the edge of the mist and watches as the signs of death float about Africa “Right now, there’s genocide happening, it looks like a water color doesn’t it?”

“One of those child drawings, the dead mere drips from fingers?” her laugh filled the air and the mist dives down into the atmosphere “Its only when you get closer it looks a tad more tangible, not paint, more like…” searching for the word she trails off reaching out to the earth her hand like a shadow below “lego’s?”

“Ah yes, like toys, ticker blocks or what have you. They don’t know tragedy, not like the predecessors now the Greeks they knew tragedy. If I had to pick an ethnic group it would have been them, I watched them almost in earnest, shame how they ended.” his eyes the two orbs on either side of his unneeded nose fixed on the waters whirled like a hurricane as he remembered what seemed only moments passed. “They worshiped so wonderfully” he grinned and raised his arms pulling the duo back into the cosmos. “Do you watch them? Individually?”

Almost shocked she turned to him with a look of terror “yes, from time to time, there is one family I’ve come to enjoy.”

“Family? You take the time to look in on then?” indifferent he began forming something, an orb at first solid turning then to ball of light, liquid and malleable .

“I watch them, it passes the time…” nothing more was sad he spent his time watching his creation grow, pondering where he would send it, without question why. He left that to those down there in the trenches. And she bored and lost in thought decided to change her body the only thing created safe to mold in her eyes.