The Survivor

I have a date with time, she's plucking my strings
and making me sing.
Hateful bitch.
I'm not in her league yet she fucks with me,
next to me
She steals the other sock
But only long enough for me to throw
the survivor out.

And she's a gold-digger, one hand
in my back pocket leaving nicotine
prints.
Even though I'm not a smoker,
She takes me to the bar
And makes me write her a song.
Why is time woman?

Because we create life
In the womb we also create her
tick tick tick
Life isn't a date,
Cigarettes,
Love,
Hate,
Finding your father,
Or Jesus.

It's dirty back pockets
Being able to breathe in death,
And survive
To pluck the strings
To lose the sock
tick tock.

Foreign Like A God

The words are alien,
Salty in my mouth
And when I roll my tongue back,
The sea and fish pour out.

The waves crest,
A powerful unrest,
It started when the sandman rang,
Gently thieving youth with his breath

Ashes to ashes,
We all burn down
The more I yearn for that urn
Longer in the ocean I drown

A force on it's axis
A destroyer on it's side
When gravity pulls me back again
I become its shotgun bride

I ask where are you now
Do you fill my lungs as I breathe?
Or have you forsaken this empty realm,
For a change of scenery?

The past is arrogant
The future, naked
What's to be found
When present's an imitation?

Forgetting you
And finding me
Is foreign like a God,
Who would push me into salty sea
For I have not forgot.


------------------

About my friend, Rae, who passed away about two and a half months ago.  It's gotten easier, but I still think about it every day.

A Continuous Forward Motion

Doubtful lovers loose sheets, minds, and covers
In a rushed scuffle to the edge of the bed
Where lipstick stains never wash out
And neither does a virgin's doubt

Evenings filled with lusty wine
Make kisses sloppy, but feelings feel fine
As stolen seconds of time looses sight
Hope on dove's wings begin to take flight

And the car's breaks are broken
We're in a continuous forward motion
So move over or get open
the one door that doesn't lock

To keep it alive you either suffer or thrive
because the heat of the sun isn't for this,
It's to bathe in the sound
Of that sweet steamy hiss
Broken hearts make when they're glued back together

The name of the game isn't to prosper or take
It's to build and rebuild
what alone you can't make

And I hope it's okay
If I start off in disarray
Because with me it’s the only way
For one foot to follow the other