my sisters told me i shud speak my mind

a heartless goodbye

her mouth undid my resolve
her eyes forced a forgiveness
I wasn't ready to give
she slid in between me
and the unhappiness
of everything
her lips danced with mine
a chorus of black magic
behind my tired eyes

she broke my resolve
she undid my courage
with a touche of her breath
she filled my lungs
air thick and foggy
it eroded my vision
my purpose, my nature
i dis-remembered my sadness
forgot my listlessness
foolishly, stupidly
i forgot the nature of my despondence

i fell into a water
calm and clear
but as i emerged
i find it had not been enough
to clean the mud from my skin

mother i love you,
father, i do
if only you knew
the things i do
i carved out a life
out of clay and mud
and the rain has come to make it bleed
it washes my sins into the sea
and i become shameless
and undecided
what does the future hold for me?
what am i to say
to the girl who pleads she loves me

i am neither here
nor there
im in between
clinging onto past, present
whilst the future pushes and grinds
its back into mine
do i give in?
or do i depart?
and leave nothing but a heartless goodbye?

...who screams at my tardiness...

these are the reasons i think that im ill...

she promised me a life
where i would be queen
and she herself a king
and i took up the thought
created a paradise
a dream
from a few scattered words
a few immobile notions
of something
ill-constructed
of something
ill-fated

as they say,
what begins in chaos
ends in chaos
from fire we were born
with fire we are exhumed

i cling to hope
i cling to a promised paradise
a dream created through morsels of happiness

the truth which bends
the truth that dents
is painted in past poems
in past horrors

it screams our hopelessness
it exhibits the violent despair
which created me
it demands attention
to the facts of my lurid past
it dismantles me
it destroys us

we become creatures
imprinted in the night sky
dead, bloody, lonely
we are the winter
and the rain
we are nothing
but hopelessness disquised

“Love? Be it man. Be it woman.
It must be a wave you want to glide in on,
give your body to it, give your laugh to it,
give, when the gravelly sand takes you,
your tears to the land. To love another is something
like prayer and can't be planned, you just fall
into its arms because your belief undoes your disbelief.” 
― Anne Sexton, The Complete Poems

each mans hell is in a different place
mine is just up and behind my ruined face

Sometimes people don't want to hear the truth because they don't want their illusions destroyed.
-Friedrich Nietzsche

Ernest Hemingway was once challenged to write a story using only 6 words.
 He wrote:
“For sale: baby shoes, never worn

A Smile To Remember

we had goldfish and they circled around and around
in the bowl on the table near the heavy drapes
covering the picture window and
my mother, always smiling, wanting us all
to be happy, told me, 'be happy Henry!'
and she was right: it's better to be happy if you
can
but my father continued to beat her and me several times a week while
raging inside his 6-foot-two frame because he couldn't
understand what was attacking him from within.

my mother, poor fish,
wanting to be happy, beaten two or three times a
week, telling me to be happy: 'Henry, smile!
why don't you ever smile?'

and then she would smile, to show me how, and it was the
saddest smile I ever saw

one day the goldfish died, all five of them,
they floated on the water, on their sides, their
eyes still open,
and when my father got home he threw them to the cat
there on the kitchen floor and we watched as my mother
smiled

-Charles Bukowski

Green eyes, 
Green like the sea. 
Pity the one that sees them 
And doesn't know how to swim.

Audience member: Play a happy song?
Damien Rice: A happy song? I don't do happy.

I have a mind that’s filled

With hatred, angst and melancholia

I’d rather you just left me here

I feel afraid to speak

Enter or exit

God help me

I treat myself as you would

A thief or like a caged animal

I weep.

I utter three words

One for the mess in my head

One for the horrible thoughts

Which come howling on my skin

Fee fi fo fum, now I’m ugly

And now I’m dumb

Here I lie

Tears in my eyes

Why would you look at me?

When even I can’t?

A God that
hates and creates you
a life that softly kills you
I feel
so empty and alone

I'll take
my own life
hand it to somebody else
someone who can see some beauty in it
someone who respects someting within it
And I'll pretend
I understand the concept
called death

Such a pretty house
and such a precious life
two children and a garden
But no sight of a wife

I'm not here
Not in this body
Not in this mind
I am in love with the darkness
I want to have its baby

Take my hand
Take this
All of me
Lets go to the sea
Lets bleed into the sand
I want to forget me

god is dead

Nietzsche said: “God is dead”

My mother fiercely disagrees

She stamps outside and yells

That I too will die

And for this she cries

Like a child,

Her eyes well up

And bitterness pours out

I am a soul. I am a body.

I am a mind. I am free.

I am not the words I read.

Or the people who rest beside me.

I am this mantra.

And nothing else

I have read poetry

I have read novels

Which have taught me to fear death

Where the bloodless creatures call out to death

To come save them

They lie down

And beg

And cry

My mind is a watery puddle

Whose mud refuses to settle

And whose ideals and morals

Are scattered and broken

Unable to be constructed into something

That lasts and is not worn down

I have read their words

I have been told who I should be

But I disagree.

I will not be a copy of a copy

Of another man’s daughter, another man’s wife.

I refuse to lead a life

In which I don’t play a role

In which my wills and desires

Are a construct

Of a predetermined law,

Just a reflection

Of something that isn’t me

Are we God’s creation?

Or is he ours?

Is he simply an ideal?

An explanation

Of the unexplainable?

I cannot submit myself

To an authority

Who forces conformity

And defines a paradise

As a nation, a people

Who are incapable of thought

And whose happiness is ever-lasting

But has no basis on who they are as a being

A life is not reality if it’s simply a construct

Where survival depends on our unconditional devotion

A freedom doesn’t exist

If it is bordered with fear and angst

Happiness is not true if one has no control

Over how it is produced

And a God is not a God if he judges, hates

And creates man only to control him in the end.

i am the grave, i am her grave

Black clouds and the ground whispers

From where she stands

Here I lie

A coffin has been built

One for me

One for you

Should we accept?

Or run away?

Here are her pale lips

And her sodden hair

She stands

Two flowers in hand

I turn my head

And pretend I don’t see

The red raw eyes

That clench the veins

To my heart and all goes deaf

I cannot hear her cries

Or my repeated replies

She begs to stay

And I push her off

I say sorry

For the slaughter

Of a daughter

I had once called mine

Time leaves imprints

On this skin of mine

Her age is written

In those weary eyes

And she has wasted away

All that remains

Is the love she has to give

But I refuse to take

She is my home

The only one I have ever known

Ever wanted, ever loved.

She is the breath that leaves my lungs

And the anger situated in my heart

The longing, the shame, feelings are

Immersed with her

And I feel nothing

Without her

But I am the killer

I am the murderer

Of her heart

I’ve slayed the daughter

I’d once called mine

She is but a shadow

That creeps within

And moves without

A body, a carcass

The living feed off her

And I too

She calls upon me

Pleads for me

But I forsake her

And she stands

Cold, alone

And without a place

To call her own

I am the grave

I am her grave

Two paths split

But remain joint

For neither promises

A land beyond this

“I thought it would be easy, lying in the tub and seeing the redness flower from my wrists, flush after flush through the clear water, till I sank to sleep under a surface gaudy of poppies. But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defenseless that I couldn’t do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn’t in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get at.”
-Sylvia Plath

“Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee
And I'll forgive Thy great big one on me.”
-Robert Frost

I am not the world

This world is not I

The oceans turn to rivers

And they die.

Life you may evade, but death you shall not.
-T.S Eliot

“A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.”
-Robert Frost

a life that wouldnt be...

Here upon the mattress

Lies the remains

Of a life that wouldn’t be

There, upon the sheets

You can smell the sickness

Of both you and me

The sunlight’s pasty gloom

Settled in this tiny room

It came and stroked your lashes

And coaxed you into submission

We replace the depths of our souls

With things we know to be wrong

To escape our own grief

We run and hide

From those who seek

We wait for God knows what

For that life to come alive

But we’ve been waiting for a while

And I see those eyes

Swimming restlessly

With both our lies

Upon this shrine, upon this mantle

We’ve built a holy place

We exalt and pray

The things that remain

Of the hallowed day

We loosen ourselves

From those filthy sheets

We let go of the memories

And let the sickness in

The nights come plunging in

Daggers and swords

For the beating hearts

Still hanging feebly from our cut up parts

opium kisses

Its lungs full of smoke

A scream full of glass

Where you spit and spit

But the shards are wedged too hard

In the gums of your teeth

And you hardly breathe

Its melancholia cloaked in anger

And draped in a burgundy of jealousy

Where happiness is shiny pebbles

We’d fill our pockets full of holes

So that happiness would drain

From the punctures in our hearts

And onto the pavement and grass

You’d hug me tight

To try and drain that

Fear and loneliness apart

But it would swarm and multiply

And soon you’d be in its arms

And we’d stand there cold and uncomfortable

With that fear and sadness

Pouring out our minds

Through our mouths

And the softness of our hearts

Would crease and dissolve

Merciless and full of disdain

You leave kisses in my mouth

They crowd and steal my breath

I leave opium seeds in yours

And you dream of dead things

Eating up our flesh and consuming our souls

And we sleep together

In a bed full of roses

Their thorns dig into our bones

And I scream for you to save me

From the lives that want to take me

But you fill my lungs with your breath

And don’t let me depart alone

You fill my blood with drugs to ward off death

In bathtubs

We cut our wrists

Like daisy flowers

They bloom in the water

And you become drunk on my life

And I become drugged on the fluid of your veins

But the water turns cold

And we don’t reach oblivion

You and I

We belong

To a race

Of the dying

To the nation

Always trying

To avoid death

But escape

The tragedy

Of life

opposites

Days have turned into

Tireless definitions

Of the same word

Repeated over and over

Until the meaning is lost

Senseless in the void

Of monotony

I open my eyes

And you close yours

I eat a peach

And you a pear

I walk left

You veer right

I say love me

And you whisper goodbye

I stand amongst

The weeds

I bite my tongue

And you stitch it back

We have grown lovely

Arguing, bickering

Over stupid things

I lie in bed till noon

You walk to the lake

And stay there till you see the moon

I drink too much coffee you say

And sleep all day

This isn’t at all well

Neither is this, I think

But you’ve already left

You paint in your room

Women with sad eyes

Whose makeup is the mask

Covering all their scars

They’re oddly beautiful

In ways I couldn’t imagine to be

But yet I wish

Someday you may want to paint me

I write diary entries

And poetry

Scattered thoughts

Here and there

Of children eaten by mothers

And fathers killing brothers

I wrote about you

And how lovely you look

All splattered with paint

But I tore it up right away

You shouldn’t see that

You sleep on the couch

And I on the floor

I get drunk

And try to make love

But you kiss me softly

And put me to sleep

On my ground, at your feet

And this is the happiest I feel

When you kiss me almost lovingly

And like a father, like a lover

You offer me to sleep

the demi-gods see us and laugh

Somedays all is expandable

Somedays, nothing is happy

And nothing is sad

All is simply not here

Nor there
It is just a reflection

Of what had been before

Of what is to come

And of what could never be

Somedays

You are a stranger

Or a lover

Or a foe

You are a cold wet kiss

On the inside of my lip

Oftentimes

I cannot perceive the future

And I cannot fathom the past

I cannot breathe and be alive

And yet I cannot begin to try and die

I see these people

These creatures

Walking like smiling, frowning, defaced mortals

On their moral high grounds

Judging and asking and laughing

For what of
I cannot see

They’re words are empty, their tongues

In serpentine knots

Behaving unwisely
Making unbinding promises

They dare not dream

To ever keep

We live inside boxes

We each have our own

One for the old

One for the young

One for the dying

In our boxes

We dream

We build

But we all believe

That our boxes
Are much bigger

Then this
And for this
We cry

Somedays

Love is a preacher

Love is a religion

Othertimes

It is an illusion

It is a decision

We abide to

I believe it’s a mask

For this hellish life

I believe it is a promise

I must always keep

Somedays

I am a child

Somedays

I am an infant

But never have I ever

Felt like a whole

What of a life

That is just an hourglass

We are always waiting, praying, crying

For something better

Yet to attain

What of a life

That is just smoke and mirrors

Goals are lifelines

But when nothing is left

To hope for

What of a life?

What of the dream?

What of nothing?

When we had nothing

To begin with

oh lover, oh fool

Oh lover, oh fool

I’ve lost my gold

I’ve lost my soul

Oh lover, oh fool

I’ve taken too long

Here is my heaven

Here is my life

My sins have mended

My raped heart

And still I yearn

And still I wait

For goodness to come

For His will to be done

My unborn child,

My father’s wife

I’ve killed them both

A long time ago

Here is my skin

My arms, my legs

I see your eyes

Scrutinize them

But not with care, no

But with distasteful disregard

Oh yes, I’ve seen those eyes

Judge and misjudge

So now I bid them goodbye

Oh lover, oh fool

I’ve killed us both

I’ve taken your skull

And crushed it on stone

The demons laugh

The angels cry

But I don’t care

They’ve hated both me and you

From the very start

little girl with her broken shoe

had seen a child

She was blue-eyed and

feather white skin. She was smiles

and cheek. She stood limply in the empty door.

But heaven dispersed and

Sorrow became her eyes

And she gripped the door

Crying for a mother

But the mother had died.

Hell came on earth

and took what created

that little girl

with her torn-up shoes

and ripped skirt

mother and father gone

and she still stood

blue eyed and crying

and i prayed for her

but knew she was dying

Little girl

With her broken shoe

Mother and father wait for you...

She kissed the statue

Full bright pink lips

On cold marble stone

And the bosomy lady

Took no note

But she kissed her lips

A thousand times in my mind

And God! If I had an axe!

I would cut that bitch’s head!

the skin

She told me she’d leave

In that empty car park

She pushed up my sleeves

And screamed

And then she took what I had left

And walked away from me

She took the love

I hadn’t wasted

And screamed aloud

She yelled and anger flew from her eyes

She loved me

And hated me

She held me

And pushed me away

I held her

And she cried

I loved her

I loved her not

She took my scars

And ripped them further apart

While I took her heart

And sold it to feelings

Too young, too premature

Nothing could be said

Nothing undone

She couldn’t stand, she couldn’t sit

She lay with me

But left inches between us

She kissed me

With an empty mouth

Hands wouldn’t touch

We lay in silence

For most of the night

Staring at the ceiling

Not daring to touch

She cried

Until the sun came up

I wiped her tears

But she wished I didn’t

She left

Rotting goodbyes

And decaying kisses

Were stuck on my cheeks

And the day fell apart

On the skin of my arms

after auschwitz

Anger,
as black as a hook,
overtakes me.
Each day,
each Nazi
took, at 8: 00 A.M., a baby
and sauteed him for breakfast
in his frying pan.

And death looks on with a casual eye
and picks at the dirt under his fingernail.

Man is evil,
I say aloud.
Man is a flower
that should be burnt,
I say aloud.
Man
is a bird full of mud,
I say aloud.

And death looks on with a casual eye
and scratches his anus.

Man with his small pink toes,
with his miraculous fingers
is not a temple
but an outhouse,
I say aloud.
Let man never again raise his teacup.
Let man never again write a book.
Let man never again put on his shoe.
Let man never again raise his eyes,
on a soft July night.
Never. Never. Never. Never. Never.
I say those things aloud.

I beg the Lord not to hear.


-Anne Sexton

death will contain less than this

Perhaps she didn’t care

Or didn’t understand

But she left me standing there

Alone with my mind

And I wept for her face

For my own disgrace

I was alone

All alone

All alone

In this worthless place

I stood

I spoke

I ate

And slept

But all that made me

Was the lusty red fire

That waltzed within me

I was not worthy

I was not sane

I despised the ground

And what was all around

She stitched up my spine

Casually glued the parts

Of my broken insides

She was disinterested in my words

Too vague, too absurd

That hard black cloud is

Sinking down

I see it clouding

Up this ground

I say I will survive

But heaven help me

I see no way out

Tomorrow is blank

Today is blank

What can be more delightful?

Then all this

Blurred out days

With blurred out people

I see no use

In standing on this earth

I comb my insides

For something to go

Something to move me

To please me

But I find nothing

But a slate

Saying:

GO BACK

So I conclude

I am nothing

After all

Nothing to this place

Nothing to that place

Just a number

Another unavailable space

Perhaps death

Will contain less then this

As Bukowski said