There’s a boy in Miami
Who’s perfect to the T
And “te quireo mucho baby”
About me.
Untitled
Toothache and heartache.
Potatoes and beer.
Bald head, fuzzy beard
And a world in-between us.
Dogs with no owners
Must beg for their food.
The cats are a crying
And you listen to them.
Blue sky, blue ocean.
Horizon is vacant.
Never again to smell your sweet scent.
Thousands of miles
Have stolen you from me.
Time to remember
You’re not even there.
Dug from the earth
The flower of our wild love.
Planted in a pot
And it died in 11 days.
Pee Soup
Oh Dear,
How I want to shit in your mouth
And then make you swallow.
To give you a taste
Of what you’re doing to me.
Devil Dog From Hell
25 years old, and I had never seen a vulture.
Now 100 or more are circling my head,
Begging me for dinner.
Sweet hell,
I’m half tempted to give them
A taste of me.
Found out last night
My lovers been whoring
With the demon of pleasure.
Now I know how it feels
To be bitten by my enemy.
I’ve drank my share of two large oceans.
Maybe next time I’ll listen when
She lulls me out to sea?
Problem is,
I never listen.
Least not to the voice of reason
Or anyone who knows what’s best.
Can someone please tell me which direction up is?
What kind of vessel propels you deep into this yonder?
Who has put a leash on you,
My devil dog from hell?
internal dialog
No matter how much my body resists it, the internal dialog never stops, cant destroy it. with my cigarettes, or junk food, or my bad attitude, can’t make extinct the thing that’s possessed me.
right in front of you
like a worn out tune of blues,
looking like leftover food, but not so tasty.
it’s a dream of mine, and in time i will learn what it takes to
make the seed grow.
never know? doubt kills like
pesticide,
insecticide,
boys at columbine.
with vicious and preconceived certainty.
no humanity or humility, only cruelty.
like the beast of nature, (pardon me)
nature of the beast.
the nature of the beast
will never cease. like the internal dialog, never stops. can’t destroy it with my cigarettes, or junk food, or my bad attitude. can’t make extinct the thing that resides inside of them, that’s possessed them.
Voodoo For Dummies
IF you ever decide
the dream is NOT dead
I left you my pillow
laying on your bed.
There’s a drop of my blood
on the floor of your bedroom
from when the fan almost cut off
my long clumsy fingers.
I have shed my gold hair
all over your city.
Just like the cat
and the dog
that I am.
This would be enough
to concoct a magical potion
IF you ever decide
the dream is NOT dead.
Brazil June 9, 2008
When will you give me the “let’s just be friends” talk?
It took me 10 years to not do the same.
It’s really not kinder this way.
So much I want to say I cannot find the courage.
I’d do everything different if it were up to me.
The sadness I know, do you know a piece of?
You feed it to me like a slice of sweet cake.
If it were up to me, I’d do everything different.
Is there a key to unlock this prison?
I really had hoped it would be different with you.
If it were up to me, it would be-
but is it really kinder this way?
I’d sleep but you are not next to me.
Would I stop crying if I could?
There is not enough smoke or mirrors on this whole damn planet
to make me forget what you’ve promised to me.
Will I never see my white horse or baby flower?
Will I never stop searching for the one to set me free?
You’re not the only one who would like to fall off of this planet
and I really believed that we would jump together.
Feeling so foolish, and so much like a child.
I’d just stop breathing, if it were up to me.
Involuntary thoughts, like involuntary functions.
Necessity breeds invention.
Now tell me, what should I make of this?
If I could only SPEAK all that I’m thinking.
That which does not kill us will make us stronger,
but what about those who are better off dead?
I need a clock like I need a hole in my head.
The opposite of King Midas syndrome
where everything I touch turns simply to shit.
Drinking this wine, in lue of your breath
which is far more intoxicating, treasured, and sweet.
I would replace it for the air,
if it were up to me.
whaddahe!!
# 4
todos temos tempo we all have time
quando when
é para falarmos de nós mesmos it is to talk of ourselves
demônios não têm hora demons have no hours
e nem precisam prestar satisfações and need not provide satisfactions
julgam-me por minha vida judge me by my life
conjugal aparente marital apparent
demônios nunca dormem demons never sleep
e nem mentem and do not lie
Caco Ishak
-girl-
relish this moment
of playing the fool.
one day you will grow
to be an old woman
who knows everything-
much like all the old women
who’ve known before.
Oblivion Will Greet You
It was never my intention
to jump wildly, blindly into the abyss
not knowing of what beasts
might devour me whole-
without blinking an eyelid.
The soul is a fragile thing
and when pushed closley to the edge
oblivion will greet you
without judgement of your sins.
I want to be that kind of friend for you.
I want to be that kind of mother for my children.
I want to embrace you despite what kind of tragedy has beset you.
I want to love you like death,
weither or not you’ll love me back.
