Conservative crunch
Infinite ganja groupies
Sacred laxative

i have ravaged you
your insides--a bloody mess
yes, cry, cry some more

the useless burden
of carrying another
cross, our own to bear

we ask for a way
out and the doors all shut one
by one by one, slam

words words words, spiral
in context and out of it
reflecting real time

Jesus rode to town
on an ass, exulted then
driving, forget it.

oh, i wish i were
a john mayer assassin
his silence, my dream

inebriated
at a loss for words for once
oh go fuck a couch

onset of winter
I am drained and want to sleep
help I can't get up

a big pile of shit
everything we do is waste
just be happy 'k

Do you feel like you
are wasting your life online
instead of living?

The idealist is
inevitably crushed by
harsh reality.

The day passes on
he hopes only to see one
far off from here, now.

Held intact by my
denial, the blindfold ties
fragments together.

My music seeps out
from a hole that never heals,
bleeding how this feels.

more honestly though
apparant control issues
wouls SO be why not!!

opinion and live
openly believe and think
with others in mind

if you don't have one
it is only because..i'm sure
you are hiding it

I know it's not time....
but.. 5 out of 7 do it
like it's a secret

oh well it is though..
a secret from the prudies
all two of them..left

thus yet we do prove
it is stll fun to hide things
from others /parents (??)

sweet venice nightlife
players on a booze soaked stage
total badasses

i agree with you
ganja is good for the soul
i wish i had one

we can create jobs
stimulate economy
and make people laugh

she gives in withdrawn
from distance set by fabrics
from her skin to his

do not torture me
he is not good enough for you
my offer still stands

My hands want to move
along his back when we hug,
gathering him in.

Restraint is keeping
honesty in bondage while
trying not to feel.

a joke resplendant
tongue betwixt the balanced spheroids.
reserve most aghast

imagine solace
sanctuary from horrors
hand beneath scrotum

well we do sometimes
take each other to task here
but thems the dry bones

laughs

kind nature my ass
from the gutter we shall rise
but not very far

metal is a funny
genre, so much anger released
and they say things...

that many avoid
in these so called dark tunnels
inside the deep mind

I've noticed since snail
showed up here a different
good kind nature shows here...

Stories seems so real.
Grandmother asleep.

new computer box
a clutch of other hardware
it's an obsession

Wearing my corset
You love how it flares my hip
My ass is yours to..?

It is four years gone
I still feel the ghost of you
...floating inside me.

a comrade in arm
a friend, a competitor
the giver of strength

Strength sapped, cancer won.
Buried six feet deep you rest.
That was four years then.

But that ghost of yours
still finds a home within me.
...and there you will stay.

A noble thought strikes
and I try to capture it
by pen and paper.

As I clean my home,
each item has a meaning
that he will not see.

One more day makes
just another year and so
when is fruition?

a splendid fellow
raised brow at norsk death metal
say you're comming love

the sea has given
sarcasm laced in wet faith
does it dry with love?

release where is it?
but the current just held on
and that piece of wood..

she sings old show tunes
she's helped into bed then sleeps
tattoo on her breast

not even a noose
could stop the horrific fall
that lead to nowhere

spoken by a child
love speaks in broken language
yet it speaks most plain

Imagine it's like
Psychiatric waiting room
Then it makes some sense

There are other ways
Other places to get help
On all ones hang-ups

Let me out! I'm sane!!!
Christ now you've got me at it
Haiku arguments

i like to pretend
that he leaves those thoughts for me
may day gets brighter

And I reach for it
It is too far. I need just see
it glimmer from here

there is nothing real
such is the game of language
the beautiful lie

from rage to sadness
the real feelings emerge to
apply the said balm