Sugarwater in Solution


as tears stream down her face
no one to turn to
no face to break
where are all the angels to guard me
she barely screams under her breath
and she has fallen from grace
a porcelain doll no longer the child's favorite toy
as age shows
when the mirror darkens
she always tried to be
something else than what she was
an actress on a stage
reliving a life already scripted
while her true heart slipped away
as the characters from the plays all became one
leaving only a statue, a golem persae
moving and talking from a will of another
but whose secret desire was to be free
away from the masks of tragedy and comedy
She isn't Sleeping Beauty
you can't wake up in faerie from our reality
no matter how hard you try
or pretend
..... a finger traces her features
and wipes the tears
like suger water in solution
she drinks them
and than it stops
time, life, this farce




Demeter goes to Hades...



So wait until when the leaves almost fall
from the trees
with bright farewells and kisses of sleep
near the brown husk of bush
lit by summer’s passion
while the ivy climbed with red anger throughout
This is our memory
our book of days
more special than any anniversary
or a birthday
for its when we met for a first
its the last time we saw
our love
a bond newly formed by the eyes
and joining of souls
only a fleeting, yet longing glance passed
between
Two strangers on a chilled day
where no white powder
lays before us
no drug for the tongue
or maybe for the hands
its a creative drug that forces youth upon your brow
and laughter in the throat
maybe if this frozen treat had been available
we may have met
and would have more
than a forgotten look
of what could have been
of what I dreamed I needed.



Fractured Faeirie Tale of the Damned.

one two
smash a child’s tooth
three four
get killed at the door
all things happen
second in between
maybe all at once, who really knows,
pain and suffering
outline, frame, intermingle
witht those of pleasure and happiness
an artist’s mess
rather than a design
a jumbled puzzle with a picture
but the fade lines distort it
so its a Picasso
only with no hidden meaning nor
a clue of what it truly is
or could be
almost like a human
a rubix cube
not a toy from the 80’s
that everyone gropes
but a cube
a mystery
that everyone must try to figure out
but as soon as two corresponding blocks
are slid into place
even more move out
for we aren’t perfect
we are human
and since we have such a long way
from perfection
why don’t we call ourselves savages
because we dream
could other creatures?
do they
only we misinterpret
or hide the truth
trying to stay on top, so we have power
power for money
for greed
that is our basic instinct
power
not to dream
sometimes of a future
one where the earth is no longer ravished
daily
so her hymen breaks
and her blood seeps onto the land
we live more in harmony
and more balanced
never perfect
never happy
but at times close
or
a desolate field of hazy winter
with acid snow and purple lit sky
where the sun is always in fade
and no children laugh
let alone breathe
the only remembrance
is a doll, crumbling face here
or a tiny bleached skull there
cracked overtime
no bugs crawling about
all because greed
can we ever solve
the imperfect cube called humanity
is it polyhedral
to the point where too many lines converge on infinity
or do we have to transverse time first
skipping around until we find an end
if there is one
can we live for a day
without a shot reveberating
or kindness eversweeping
the answer is no
because it is realistic
can it happen
the realism
always corrupting the idealism
maybe to a point where its healthy
maybe not
like a human
its all objective

Email: