FEASTS OF GRIEF

Wretched, a remnant of before
you left me
What do I care for your name?
Why shout it?
Should I bother with tears?
Or as many as you said my name
to equal the number
Why should I give
a damn now about yours?
You were dying
when you were lying
Now you are dead.

I am here living,
or at the very least standing –
breathing low before
your marred headstone,
watching nature at her best;
her nocturnal creatures draw close
towards your grave.

In my mind they feast
but sour memories and grief
make them unmentionable fiends –
that wanted to make a macabre feast
of your bloated body,
and I let them – brittle bones now
rattle in the dust,
still all I can see is anger.
I hate you right now.
You are dead
where all the dead are at long last
at peace.
Laughing to myself
beneath my tears,
my eyes fill with images
of your drunk days
and slurred nights,
‘Did you ever love me?’
I wondered ceaselessly.
Does it matter now?

Poets say, ‘the dead have no cares
for anything, ‘they are, after all, dead.

Unresolved issues?
As many as throwaway tissues
and I am spent.
Damned right there are issues!
There will always be a legacy
bequeathed me;
uncertainty here for me in the living,
a breathing reminder
that you once lived in this world,
and while you lived I died, faded,
a mere shadow, bent, broken –
a servant in waiting
awaiting your orders,
waiting for love or a sign
not found inside glass,
poured from a heart
instead.
I brought you
what you craved
I thought I brought you happiness
and filled the hole as black as my life today.
All I brought was your next drink.

MATH

Mysterious numbers rise and fall, leaving me faint
Astonishingly multiplying these blurred heavy-stained parallel lines
Tentacles tug and tear at me from my cubicle seat
Hexagons and prisms -these quadratic equations will be the death of me yet.

Buzz Kill

Pig, Fuzz, that’s me strolling the streets
Boots shining, helmet gleaming
Nightstick twirling between the beats

“Wha..? Who is this before me?”

Platform boots, planted
Navy polyester swaying
Afro glimmering in the heat
Lips glossed, glistening

“Mmm, Mmm.”

Hey there groovy mama
Let’s return to my pad and catch a buzz.
Smirks, an angel’s laughter
Share a bong?
Chase the dragon?
Flat foot you crazy.

Lava lamps glowing,
Love beads entwining between our fingers,
Peace signs blanketing the walls.
Flat foot you barmy.

You wear a badge,
Following the law.
I play the skins,

Screaming “Free love.”

Free love, Free love,
I can dig it.
My handcuffs on your wrists,
Melting wax sliding down your thigh.

Copper, stop!

You bum me out.
You flirt,
You tease,

“Dude you are the Establishment.
I’m a flower child.
We will never hang out.”