Moth Friend

Twas at the bookfest today

At around noon if I do recall

When among the literary sprawl

I saw but a fluttering of wings

A little moth fluttered and fell

Twitching to show it’s still mortal

A dying oddity in state of decay

I claimed him my new friend

Passers-by would think me droll

As I began to speak to the soul

Clamber aboard I said to the beast

As I set a finger before his trail

And he took rest atop my nail

We set about our path to the end

We spoke of much as we browsed the book

Where once quaint I now seemed mad

I heard the crippled moth be sad

Hold now here just a minute

I said to my lonely acquaintance

You’re not alone while I’m in your presence

He flapped his broken wing and gave a solemn look

Trouble arose only when the time came to pay

I could not pay out with him in hold

He took one look with eyes of old

And it hurt as I saw his time had come

He spread his broken wings out to the sky

and stepped from my hand and began to fly

I was happy to have seen his last day

Meat

Nine years since

I sat down to dine upon the last meat

25th, Burns day, haggis before me

I drove the knife deep as I capped the address

“Gie her a Haggis”

And the Haggis was shared

Nine years gone

And meat met my mouth upon the eve

Of the 25th, Burns day, haggis before me

Tentative, returning to this strange land

“I’ll start with a haggis”

And the haggis was eaten

One day longer

And I dine down further on meat

The 26th, a day of no significance to me

I forked a slice of ham in the sauce

“It tastes a bit odd”

And carbonara was eaten

Any time further

I may dine more on flesh still

The Future, a world unknown to me

I may arrow a deer down my own eyes

“Slit its throat”

Meat, the vegetarian, has eaten

Robert Burns day

Hello citizens, I hope you are all celebrating yourselves well on this day. While many in the land I live look forward to tomorrow as Australia day, I look to today as Robert Burns day. The day of the national poet of my homeland, Scotland. Burns poem’s are absolutely beautiful. Today I do not write for you a poem, but I beckon you to go and read some of his.

Waterlogged

Sometimes, just sometimes.

I’m lying in this bath with a clear tulip filled with the red blood that drives my mind

A book in my hand, water all around me, it feels part of me, the words on pages are extensions of my fingers, and the water is my boiling womb

I can feel the heat through my body, though my face never touched water it drips with salty sweat

My book feels so light

I feel cold above the water, I dip my hands under the skin to feel the scolding heat once again

I touch the hot water to the brown paper, the book soaks it up, a thirsty wise man trapped in pages, dying for a drink

I pull the plug

The water starts to sink from around me and I grow heavy

So very heavy as the water sucks me down

I feel I am water

I am waiting, every time waiting for the water to drag me with it

Deep into the drain as my body turns to liquid and I flow through the pipes

Through places unseen

I could drown in myself for it

Madness, madness of the water me in water pipes

I need that madness

The water has drained and what now

I sit in this tub, naked and pruned

Like a long dead rat left to rot in brine

And I lie there

Staring into the ceiling

Feeling that pit of despair

Flesh feeling so very flesh like in a way that it never does with clothes

Clothes become you

But wet, naked, without anything to cover you

Feel like a wet mush, where the skin of your arm cannot differ from the skin of your stomach

Cover yourself

I stand and all hell breaks loose

My mind goes red, my face explodes and the thudding

Thudding so strong so heavy so constant

Thudding in beat, beat of my mind, beating like never before

Waterlogged in body but beating in mind, beating so hard

Mind goes cold, face goes hot, drink more blood

The thudding is begging

Begging for madness

When did it become like this

When waterlogged bodies drummed for my mind

It needs so much

It needs to feel

This body does same for so many days

Nothing is new

New is needed

New madness of the water pipes

Without madness what am I

The Fall

Yes, it’s that angsty time again. This one is a little personal and I hesitated to post it, but the things we do to entertain strangers online. The internet will be the death of us all.

We all fall sometimes

We all take a drop

For some of us it’s worse than others

For some of us it’s easy to stop

You know the signs of your drop

You fall hard and you fall fast

You fall in a world where voices go silent

You fall in a way that’s hard to grasp

And I try to help you when you drop

But I’m still so new to it all

Though you’ve been doing it for so much longer

And you missed it when I took my fall

You drop hard when you drop

You drop fast when you drop

But I drop slow when I drop

And it’s more like a trip than a fall

I dropped and it put me out of the world

For two months or longer I fell

Till I hit the ground and pulled myself up

Told myself I’d never tell

Then I got back into it

Back into the world and spoke to you

I could never tell you about how I broke

Only pretend I came back anew

You watched me drop and didn’t know it

You watched me trip and saw me fall

But I don’t blame you for not helping

Because you didn’t know anything at all

My demons walked past you to get to my mind

But it was Halloween and they were wearing my skin

They shook your hand with slimy fingers

You nodded politely as they wandered in

They teach girls how to cry when they hurt

They tell boys we shouldn’t get hurt anyway

You knew how to say when you were suffering drop

I knew how to pretend like it would just go away

But now I’m back in the world again

And I still can’t tell you I ever fell

But you’re making it feel like I dove on purpose

Like my drop put you through hell

But I don’t blame you for not helping

Because you didn’t know anything at all

And now I’m sitting here and smiling

Hoping you never read this and fall

Ode to a Dogs life

So I’m having one of those tiring days and I think sometimes everyone just wants to live like their dog.

Carry me sweetly sweet darling,
To the dreaming land were the dreamers dread to dream.

Carry me softly slight Mia,
To the loving arms of the clouds that lull the lazy mind to leave

Carry me quickly quiet puppy,
Away from the world where the heat makes pools of the skin

Carry me slowly singing angel,
Away from the world where muscles must ache to feel the cool release

Carry me,
Carry me with your soft kisses that sweep the worries from my mind

Carry me,
Carry me with the simple actions that could never come from a world of mine

Carry me,
Carry me to the world where you live, where all is simple and love is pure

Carry me,
Carry me to the time when life was easy, carry me to this cure.

Alphabetty Spaghetti

I’m not going to lie, I just didn’t have a better title for it.

Are you actually accusing all these alphabetic acrobats

Of Bombarding the brave beautiful bachelor baking

English

Dialect?

Dialect that ducks dodges and dribbles the deepest doubts drives and desires

Of the fantastical furious flame feeding

Gear grinding

Human that hangs by his

Intestinal integrity of the integral intellectual idea farming improvised

Jargon jousting

Love

Making machine of the mind.

No,

Overt opinions outside the

Perceived persuasive piece of putrid prose that poured pathetic

Questions on the quality that

Regarded my recreational

Speech-craft.

To,

You

Vain vapid vampire

Who wonders why

You got yelled at as a

Zero-to-one-hundred zone crossing zit on the face of life.