Your favorite poem...written by YOU

Oh how the city of cast out souls and Unforbidden dreams grabs me into her hypnotic clutches.
An angel by design, but a lost demon in the soul she entices me to go for the fame and limelight.
She tells me to let her rebuild my entire persona and build a facade based off taking my career to a new international height.
She blinds me with reflections of a plastic surgeon's flaw ridden touches.
She bathes me in the unforgetten souls of fallen Hollywood starlets.
Molding me to let the paparazzi defame my character and leave my morals at the gateway.
Only to let the tabloids see me as a fame induced monster feigning for the devil's pay.
She blew my money on private jets and more illegal body augmentations.

But oh my sweet Los Angeles give me my Hollywood star cemented on your golden pavements.
My star crossed lover place me on my rightful throne next to the A list celebrities.
Take me on your magical, mystical voyage where the human dreams are mere figments.
Where I can meet people with flamboyant and out of this world personalities.
Sweet city of Lost Angels with your street urchins, crushed dreams and high class elegance
Take me under your enchanted angel wings and turn me into a star that conveys the upmost arrogance.

    
Romantic bones    
within this body of mine    
only recently unearthed
are still not fully formed    
   
though the ligaments about such    
have grown strong with attachment    
   
Unstrainable    
--ligature of Heart    
twining in our Venn Diagram    
   
Unfrayable      
---literature of Love    
coding spiraling word words    
   
Adamantine    
---my Love for you    
long in the marrow now    
calcified in the understanding:    
   
neither of Us    
were ever broken    
beyond healing    
   
Fractured    
we were brought  
together by design    
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
previous version
 
 
Fractured    
  
Romantic bones    
within this body of mine    
only recently unearthed are still    
not fully formed    
   
though    
   
the ligaments about which    
have grown strong with attachment    
   
unstrainable    
   
the ligature of Heart continuing to    
entwine in our Venn Diagram    
   
unfrayable    
   
the literature of Love    
coded in spiraling strands of words    
   
adamantine    
   
My love for you    
long in the marrow now    
calcified in the understanding:    
   
neither of Us    
were ever broken    
beyond healing    
   
Fractured    
we were brought together    
by design    
 
 

If elephants could fly, then the world wouldn’t be able to…
Close their eyes and pretend they haven’t seen something new
Up in the clear blue sky, the elephant certainly has a great view
There’s no way to deny what we see; soon one plus one won’t equal two.

If elephants could fly, then I should be able to reach my goals
Say a few goodbyes and liberate my weary soul
I want to spread the truth and abolish all lies; free us from this chocking control
Even if it’s just me, myself and I; at least I’m now whole.

If elephants could fly, then I’d know imagination can come true
Living in the magic of July, this string of love leads me to you
We’ll never know what’ll happen unless we try; when I looked into your eyes, I knew…
That this wasn’t the time to be shy, and I can’t look away from your shade of blue.

If elephants could fly, then I’d know that the impossible can happen
I have loved ones on whom I can rely, more so than I can even imagine
I feel like I am so high, as my blood burns with limitless passion
If elephants could fly, than I’m a majestic dragon!

      
She taps
ash into shot glass
neglected by dishwashers
for decades  
   
admiring sunlit cigarette  
smoke phantoms mingling  
with beaded curtains between her   
and shattered, blacked out windows  
long boarded over    
     
remnants of a hey day    
when girls like her glittered  
more than gold or diamonds    
banking on the drunken    
generosity of gentlemen    
amusingly referred to    
behind their backs  
as Cottonwood  
and Khaki Package;    
their hard earned paychecks      
liquidated into dollar bills    
burning through dampened    
pockets    
     
The best customers    
were the quiet ones    
who only came to watch  
    
If she missed anything about  
the Shakin' Bacon Strip Club  
it was them    
     
They did not leer    
or get anywhere near      
intoxicated as others      
nor did they paw at    
and grope the dancers  
     
She sighs    
     
Perhaps it was a fool's hope      
that twenty-seven years later    
they fondly remembered    
her just the same    
     
 

      
For many years I sat      
under a banyan tree      
 
waiting      
 
for the mysteries of the Universe      
to avail themselves to me      
     
The only wisdom I gained      
from the entire experience was      
     
it was no mystery that I      
ended up covered in bird shit      
     
The only blessing I gained      
as a result of sitting there      
with sparrows shitting in my hair      
before flying away?      
     
You      
     
came along today      
offering an umbrella      
the pleasure of your company      
and encouragement      
to keep trying      
     
   

       
Things have got to change      
Things have got to change      
Can't take this same shit      
different day banality      
anymore      
     
Familiar to strange      
From familiar to strange      
Stepping out into traffic      
Exit the revolving door      
     
Free my mind      
from this reality designed      
by its control freak Architects      
with their agents of      
imbalanced checks      
     
To hell with what      
everyone else expects---      
It's not about taking chances      
Its all about      
l i v i n g  in the moment      
     
free versed      
     
gone off the grid      
     
Poetry without reservations      
     
I'm fucking first      
said Ego to the Id      
     
Poetry without reservations      
     
Poetry      
without      
reservations      
     
 

I am the one they feverishly hide.
​A disgrace of respected loins,
behind fashioned walls inside.
​Born with limbs that withered in
​the womb of shame, birthed uneven legs
​that limps and lames. My mother
shown pity and hints of care, but
her face as she looks away... in obvious
​regret and all things unfair.
The higher born of old families rooted in
​Victorian mansions as I.... is where
​you can find little rooms as these well hidden
​where we, the unknown lived and most often died.

A small window facing a wall was my only view,
​along with tree tops of pines as they hopefully grew,
​but never outside, a wish of non sense I sagaciously knew.

The mute maid, with head bowed would service
my chamber pot but once a day. My ankles swollen
from bed irons that chain me to these
wooden floors where my dirty bed roll lay.
As a child I recall the chains being much heavier than I,
perhaps more than the burden my parents
endured in their everyday lie.
The bricks that forced me in, also allowed me faint
pleasures of my family I'd hear, but not I and why?
​because I am grotesquely ugly,
in admittance I sigh....
​I don't believe my siblings knew of me at all.
​Could they love me as I love them, if in their
​innocence they saw?.... no... in sibling love,
let them keep their unknown names and perfect
​faces distant beyond my darkened hall.

Father rarely visited my imprisoned and stench
stained room. When he did, it was always in routine
of drunken rage. My back bared obediently awaiting
its doom. Accompanied by whips and sticks of wood,
I'd crawl into my mind where I was at my prettiest
and took his hate as best I could.
​When inebriation played its tired part...on my
floor he'd sometimes lie in sleep. Beside my father
I coiled and softly place his arm around me, without
sounding a single peep. Beneath hateful hands of pretend,
I'd fall in thankful feels of weep.

​I had no fantasies or dreams to escape to in the
contorts of my mind. Impossible...how could I?..
if not seen or known of anything beyond my room
to remember or rewind. Insanity played its cruelty
on me from time to time, but it was a welcomed
friend aside from the roaches and rats that
accepted me in my filth and grime.

​The awaited day is here that I no more fear.
Alas, father speaks a kind word and breathes...
" The snow is falling do you see it forming on the
​branches of tree?"..... "yes father"...
a first kiss on my head, when his angered reflection in
​my window I see... as he swung his merciful
hammer to end his disappointment in me.