Bewitched By the Eyes

Eyes of green and blue
Eyes of hazel and turqiouse
Eyes of red and gray
Doesn’t matter the color
Just the sight, the visual voice
Man looks into woman’s eyes
Sexy
Woman looks into man’s eyes
Handsome
Didn’t know that those eyes
Saw their brother being held for a ransom
Those eyes saw their dad
Shot in a war that had nothing to do with him
Those eyes saw abuse
Of the mental and physical
Of the emotional, too many commercials
Distractions to see the truth
Interruptions that bewitch your mind
Not letting you see the real view
That this world is and will be forever cruel
Don’t get upset, its true!
Colors in the eyes
Don’t match the colors in this living globe
The colors in the eyes are bright and beautiful
While the colors in this globe
Are dark, they’re cold
And will never get old
Why?
It’s constantly changing
Rearranging
Generations aging
But no matter how old we get
Or worse, or dry, or painful
It will always be bewitched by fake words
And beautiful eyes

Wasted Heart

The mouth of his lover
is stirring,
Yet he only hears silence.
The mental tv is on,
his least favorite show,
her least favorite episodes,
The episodes that replay,
Like a syndicated show,
On an old network.

She said being with him ails her,
Yet when they are only in skin,
Savoring each other’s flesh,
Sharing each other’s air,
She glows like untouched magma.

Amazing how what brought them
Together will blast them apart.
The needles and vials
Were a fun retreat,
But the honeymoon is over,
And so is his patience.

Wrecked trust and
Beaten egos
Are the victims here,
Not he or she.
Not it or that.

When night falls,
As her body does after the usual day’s toil,
He will end her all at once,
End her waste,
End her sanity,
End her green,
End her jaded fog.

Thought to use the nitric acid,
Even considered her violin string,
But it’s cleaner,
And it’s legal,
To just leave her as she is,
While he goes on as himself.

Jealousy Consumption

Jealousy consumes the best of us
but the best don’t hurt like the rest of us.
As long as it doesn’t grow to envy
the ones in the hoopdie dream of the bentley.
The bentley rider rides with pride
while the one in the hoopdie swurves to the side
No need to compare becasue the difference is clearly there
And all the jealous one can think in his head is
“this life that I’m living really isn’t fair.”
And what makes it worse is that no one else seems to care
Your dreams ripped to shreds with one single tear
Feeling like your body has just been stripped bare
For a while you weep, until you’re eventually asleep
And when you tell your story all you get is “that’s deep”
That’s just the little jealousy creep

Seasons of Amity

It is spring;
I hear the jittery pollen,
The sun’s cheer,
The sky’s chuckle,
squirrel perversions.
Our friendship is a babe,
Swaddled with coos and beams,
Feeding off breast nectar.
This babe’s skin is hemp,
Hair of cashmere.
It is summer;
I smell the new berries,
The shy rivers,
The social fly,
squirrel chatter.
This friendship is youth,
It gossips with me,
Even about me when gone.
This youth’s skin is nylon,
Hair of cotton.

It is autumn;
I see the orphaned leaves,
The cool wafts,
restless beetles,
the squirrel whispers.
Our friendship is an adult,
Pushing and loathing,
Stubborn but faint.
This adult’s skin is burlap,
Hair is denim.
It is winter.
I feel the stillness of air,
The timed silence,
The derelict warmth,
the squirrel unseen.
This friendship has passed,
with the dust it goes,
the faux joys,
the fire wood,
the faded hearts.
The skin is weathered,
The hair, no more.

Night

Night is an unsolved mystery
Dangers lurking around every corner
Clues around every corner
Searching for answers
Never knowing what to look for
When will it strike out again
Fear instills in every heart
Waiting for daylight
Daylight is the answer
Night brings out the worst
Never knowing what you’ll find
Help me daylight
Where are you
Daggers surround me
Who holds them
Fingerprints cannot be seen
Looking for answers
Ever around the corner
Lost
In the mystery of night

Doxy of the Opaque

She is one of pure confidence
Hands full of elegance
Wrists bathed in trinkets
Ears stained of stones

He is savoring her from afar
Parked in a friends car
Intrigued by what she is
Knowing his true intent

Leaning against an old building she is
Mouth dripping with sophistication
Dress woven of sin and lure
Eyes of twenty-four carat gold

Pupils meet and divide
He gazes but not miles
She sustains her mark

He peeks at this centerfold
Patent heels of infinity close in
Tingling engrosses his torso
While her figure soaks his sight

A wink and beam of milk
A pomegranate face
He lets the window descend
Words of candy are swallowed

The passenger door exhales
Her body inhales
The sedan tiptoes into the opaque

Where base Eves fly
And ravenous Adams die

Price of a Little Shut Eye

There it goes again.
That damned alarm clock.
Buzzing and cussing and buzzing.
It’s time to get out of bed.
The offspring are tugging,
Now the cat’s whining,
Dog friend is howling and howling,
You’re still lying in bed.

“Come on, get up or I’ll be late!”
“Open your eyes and fix me a plate!”
The animal friends leap on you.
And you got to get out of bed.
The girl begins to scream,
The boy is on her team,
And the wildlife have released their bowels onto your satin comforter.

It is building within you,
Like a flame in the forest.
With eyes wide shut,
Toes curled tightly,
Your saliva-drenched mouth unlocks,
with screeches of high pitch.
And you go back to bed.

So what if the girl is crying,
The boy has stomped off,
The pets have scurried in worry,
But if feels so good to lie in bed.
Back to undressing that lady you met
Outside of the bar,
The one with the cat eyes
And pigeon toes.
Yes, her, that gem of all stones.

A smile eases onto you face,
With eyes closed tight,
Anticipating the surprise underneath
her shallow top
and half eaten skirt.

The hand is where it should be:
Easing down your belly,
To your undies.
Too bad it will stop
Before you taste her mouth-
The stench of the pet droppings
Has all but
Scoured the
dream.

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