Message sent

I think I do better
better without you
got my head all cleared up
and a whole new outlook
got a message in a bottle
and it says you’re not mine
I think I do better without you
so I’m reading it all the damn time
ain’t really that simple
but it’s not complicated
I may want you a lot
but my ass ain’t that jaded
the message that I got
says you ain’t my savior
and not actually my friend
so I think I’ll do better
without seeing our end

In the smoke

Look
listen
forget to move
everything you do
you remove
the good,
the bad,
the ugly too
all of it
in full view
like a flower
the color calls
you watch yourself-
you do no wrong
turn the pages,
form the mobs
burn the bridges
now you move on

Mirror of what came before

It’s the same
and yet
yet so completely
different
not again
but similar
still leaves my mind
searching for words
now
now that everything
is different
but all the same
old wounds
do not forget
the pain all in my skin
memory of flesh
but then
this time
it’s completely different
like night and day
but still we miss
everything
we want to forget
memories
under our skin
finger nails
and on our neck
makes the differences
seem
nonexistent.

Tobacco and wine

I’ve got myself a new vice,

feels like fire and ice.

Bubbling and fade, misted smoke overrated.

I’ve got myself a new dream

made with lots of whipped cream

troubled and free, a triple timed Identity.

I’ve got myself a new vice

its like liquor pure nice.

A cigar in my hand and another seedy plan

oh I’m free now

breaking out the mold, how?

Tripping off the bridge and flowing right down.

I’ve got myself a new spine

rippled down and divine

a light that’s over my mind

and I’m flying high.

I’ve got myself

I’ve got myself

I’ve got my cigar in hand

and I’m thinking mad

like a hatter with a knife

I’m dreaming in tides

feeling moons pull so right.

I’ve got myself a dying wish

to make myself a fish

swimming in the sky, light drifted so fine.

And here I am vice in hand music in my head

and I’m off to take a stand.

Not a simple butterfly my life is lived

in crushing hides, a moth to feed off light and bliss

like a sand man kissing off eye lids.

Drifting down the flame and gore I’m signing out

finding how.

Like a phoenix with a pipe so high

lost up in water filled skies breathing clouds left and right.

I’ve got a new vice, a killing stick by design.  

I’ve got a new vice and I’m kicking now

fully alive.

(October 20 2012)