a man’s world

Thinner than our threads that used to fit,
we make up so you can leave again,
taxi into town a burned out clown,
tumble till the neon shuts you down.

Restless hands beat rhythms on my chair,
pretending to myself that you still care.
I can only walk the worn out floor,
a dog that waits behind a nightclub door.

Taking turns to spin you on your stool,
playthings pass the parcel as you drool,
stretching alter neck goes out of shape,
grace is sipped away without a trace.

Morning milk clinks early in the street,
guilt has ploughed a furrow for your feet,
clatter bangs the door with no surprise,
another night of chewed and swallowed pride.

  
in the corner of his  
highs  
   
no one could see  
no one would see  
no one should see  
   
and when a man cries  
behind the veil  
of his highs  
   
he has done all  
he could've done  
he would've done  
he should've done  
   
to avoid    
the void  
   
and    
when a man cries  
under clear blue skies  
it rains  
no  
not a flood  
just a pair of droplets  
on a couple of specks of dirt  
leaving them moist  
yet as barren    
as before  
   
and when a man cries  
with open dry eyes  
his widest of grins  
are his    
whitest of lies  
   
do not ask what happens  
when?  
a man cries  
   
it is only after  
"the man"  
in him    
dies  
.  
   
   
it happens  
without a sigh  
because  
when a man cries  
he does so  
behind the visible highs  
   
   
and when a man cries....

i would never lift a single neuron of anger
nor gripe  
but simply wish to borrow images of minds
to relish in dark corners
with permission
with the simple allowance
that my innocuous desperation
the taught elastic desires pulled so paperly thin
that your mere breath sends shivers down one’s mind
may fondle the echoes of you
 
i would never even ask for a touch
except from will’s intent on thought
but to be allowed to be a reparation
to prove that men can be good
give you pavement to click upon
traversing tenderness i cannot hide
a plummeting center of gravity
from which lowered eyes are pulled
into contemplative suffering
a lift to your sail
as i  
listen desperately to the passing hint of you
allowed
permitted
to indulge
in its obsession
oh may i please just have that
and i forfeit and ignite bonfires
and move boulders you find obstacles
for all the rest

 
Why do you want to know about what goes whirling around inside my head?
Because I’m able to set a table with a playbill that you’ll love to read the spread
My brain’s a plain plane about to crash while loaded with methane and propane
So, sit back, relax and watch the explosions and perhaps enjoy some champagne
 
I’m a respectful dirty motherfucker who is a sucker for a damsel in distress
I obsess to impress with finesse to maybe even conversationally undress
I want to know what makes my woman swoon and swirl to rock her world
And then worship that pearl that the mere thought makes her toes curl
 
But if there is one thing that pisses me off and it really makes me tick
Is whining and complaining like it’s aiming to turn me into a big dick
No pun intended but if you’re offended because I hate any bitching
Then the wonderful magic disappears and there goes the bewitching
 
I like my woman to be smart with a heart of gold and appreciates the arts
With a good sense of humor, laughs hard at my jokes ‘til she pees or farts
I like to have intelligent and profound conversations that can last all night
We don’t even need to fuck because her mind is what I’d rather excite
 
We’re all flawed in some way and some of us will fuck up from time to time
Don’t look for perfection or have expectations that it will always be sublime
Be willing to forgive and learn because I know that trust is hard to earn
And if we yearn to grow then we will get something bigger in return
 
Let me be blunt and up front, pussy power is our weakness and inspiration
It makes men climb mountains and cross seas for the sake of procreation
We like to swing our dictionaries at our adversaries until somebody wins
I just hope that my very merry hairy vocabulary made you think and grin
 
Or just keep his belly full and balls drained that his brain will freeze
When the blood rushes out of our heads, we’re not too hard to please
 
¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Love encased in a picture frame.
But, will it reveal all the pain.
 
The pain from the unknown,  
The pain of what use to be there but, now is gone.
 
Yes; gone, but never forgotten.
Yet still rotten to its core.
 
Because, the more I hear those three words, the less they are really heard.
 
In through one ear and out the other,  
Flowing like the river of lies we told once another.
 
Filling each other up with BS about love and romance that's pretend.
Out of fear of being alone when your final day comes to a end.
 
So we dance, around and around in this never ending cycle of pain.
To end back up in front of the love we had.
 
Encased in a picture frame.