To be honest this is truth. There is many mes in this universe. There are many yous. The pattern of the universe within the Milky Way galaxy allows for no chaos. We all are part of the system of things. Meaning we all live on in parallel realities whether you believe me or not. Honesty is that there is no chaos. There is only the wheel of time in which you are part of a pattern of things.

petaled hearts

cracked bottles

lost dawns

sleepless nights

strangers doors unlocked

hallaway light left on

starry-eyed

sunken

sober

strained

sundowns

shadows

creeping across the wall

tossed sheets

thrown tables

broken windows

baseless words

violent violets

vulgar vixens

yellowed eyed yarn tossled blonds

young youths hungover

popped pills

pyschedlic panises

crayola colored drugs

romeo to be or not to be

raging rage

crowbar cracked logic

crazy crackheads sniffting the same powder

wailing water works drowning the floorboards

wasted wages on dusty forevers

aging almosts

abused angels

cotton filled stomachs

trying to stop the blood from the gunshot

that grazed the heart on the 2nd floor

another sip

guzzling giggles

loose lips sink ships

liqiour late nights at the bar

mouth agape kissing the lips of strangers

to taste anything

touching the tangibleness of this pain

that could shatter the weakness of the amor that I let through my armor

untied the shoe strings

and set them on the welcome mat

the heart got too comfortable in the chest of another

tatterd seat cushions

chipped tables

cum stained toilet seats

used condoms thrown in the trash can

broken showers

stolen whispers

teared up tears

dagger through the ribcage

long drawn out cries

craddled in the crib

like a baby

holding your own arms

around that tiny soul

pull your own skin apart

to keep yourself warm

in the discomforting

thought

of loneilness

dead roses

wrapped with an obiturary of love that was buried by the last person who stayed in this bed

used cigars

tilted to the mouth to taste the human left upon the edges of it

glass doves

half-eaten choclates

thongs layed across the tub

bent bra wires

champagne bottle

tilted to the side

red lipstick lingerd on the lips of a liar

cheaters covet

he stained with the words I love you

planted it on another bitch

maybe he was the salt she needed

and maybe it is ink that stained him

that made him stay

real tears melt plastic

true love

ain’t true

if isn’t filled with lies

veins filled with novacine

skin sweating morphine

wrist grazed with slits

cursive letters curved

around

my finger

forming

like band

kissed

with words

of a lost forever

blue eyed boys

cause the blues

brown eyed boys

drag you to the grave

midnight curls

make you curse

your existence

brown haired boys

write poetry

and

break your heart

using the alphabet

you don’t have to cross over the ocean

to experince shipwreck

of the soul

dolly parton pink sheets

and babydoll nightgowns

mascara stained bedding

used tissues

lovers leftovers

black and white reruns

replaying the same scenes

the lines used from

your last lover

he was the cancer

that was spreading through your body

he was the pisces , that swam through your ocean

he was the leo , that devored your heart and left you hanging from your veins

the zodiac warned you about being a smart alec

crossing stars

with the devil

kissing the lips dusted in star dusts

red lips bleed blood when applied with pressure , see I asked for the truth but its funny all that came out of her mouth was lies,

she was weak in the heart

she rather sip on cough syrup to ease her guilty consicence

friends don’t slip sugar packets in a bowl of vinegar and try to pass it off as sugar water

see they forget

good liars don’t trip up on their own lies

see you thought I wouldn’t find out how dear sweet f , never mind lets not name drop.

you said

“lets not push each others for our own cause”

but really whats your cause

to strip him down and feed him

ambrosia laced with LSD

see you put theories in is head

about me that wasn’t there

see you have the voice of KAA ( jungle book reference the snake )

but you had the face of medusa

its funny the tricks beauty plays on you

karma lived here

she had the hips of sin

eyes of an demon

and her lover was revenge

Welcome to heartbreak Hotel

leave your heart at home

#they lies we tell in the midnight , all come to light in the morning #new year #exposed

     He chose the desert over the city. He was chased out by the things the city had to offer. He was tired of the traffic, the job with its 24/7 of stress, He was tired of meetings and kissing ass, or avoiding coworkers who either wanted to kiss his, or to bitch.

His choice for the desert began as a germ, like a pollen grain fertilizing an ovary, deep in a plant. It developed on a tiny level and grew until it could not be contained by its surroundings and burst into swelling of fruit.

The fruit in his case spilled full on his office desk in the form of various species of cacti. Soon his preoccupation for the succulent plants so overran the surface of his desktop that his colleagues kidded whether he shouldn't have applied for the job of drought landscaper. His boss wasn't so gracious.

“Hate to break it to you on your evaluation here, Jeff, but you've wasted valuable time, the company's, yours and mine. Those blueprints for the Carter high rise have stagnated on your end. You've cost us millions. You hedged and daydreamed promises with errors in your work. I've been patient, known you personally many years, put up with your increasing ineptitude, . . .

     “No need to go on. I know it would come to this. My apologies for dragging you through this moment. I appreciate your patience. Sorry about the money loss. You've got my vested earnings, all my stocks, they'll flow back into the firm. I'll see to it. All I need is time to load my stuff and I'll be out.”

“What's with the botany, Jeff? Why the plants, the cactus. Does it represent some kind of symbolic struggle you're going through? If you need . . . . "

“Help? No Max, the only help I need is your blessing. I don't want to leave on any more bad terms. I'm not meant to hang around any longer. I don't need a Dr. Phil. Shouldn't have let it come to this.

     “Okay, been good while it lasted, Jeff. Good luck on whatever new career you're chasing.” 

     "Not chasing anything, Max. Just tired of the rat race. I need to get out into the outside, reconnect with Nature."

     "Why don't you take a sabbatical. Get your head together. The Firm will pay for it. It's part of your benefits package. Hate to lose you Jeff."

     "Appreciate your kindness, but my mind's made up. I'll let you know where I end up. Our friendship's worth that."

     "You do that."

     Max reached out to shake his hand. Jeff took it and shook. He grabbed his last load of personals and put them on the dolly. "See you Max."

     Jeff gripped the Jeep's steering wheel and cried. His tears fell on his Levis. "The hardest thing is gonna be leaving town without saying goodbye to my kids. My wife, not so hard, but still hard. Yeah, I know we've had hard times, but I still love her deep inside. I guess I am a chicken shit for this, but it'll be easier for everybody."

     He hit the ignition and jammed the vehicle into drive  and drove out of the Firm's parking lot. He could smell his things in the back. He drove to the Wilmington Exit and merged onto the ramp heading for Interstate 10, Taos, New Mexico.

     It was 1:00 a.m. He started tossing expletives out the window. With each curse he felt the weight lift correspondingly. By the time he reached the plateaus of the desert's marginal boundaries, he felt like a saint. He had purged the dross from his inner being as it were by smelting his innards with outburst of the angst. 

     "First thing I'll do when I get to my new digs is build me a greenhouse. It'll protect my succulents from the cold of the desert air. Second thing I'll do is build an underground bunker. It'll protect me from the elements."

I am not brave.

I will cower to your gods and I will bend to your laws.

I can't resist to do what I am told to do.

I am slowly eroding.

I'm too slow for time.

Every change -

I feel it.

Did you feel that?

I need it to be over with.

Time isn't kind to anyone.

And you will feel it with every second.

Tea time, just my mom and me…

memories so sweet and dear,

knowing I was her first choice;

still her voice is crystal clear.

Some of my favorite hours.

fresh cut flowers in a vase,

aroma drifting after,

her bright laughter giving chase.

Drinks poured from a silver pot,

piping hot, a cup of tea;

made better than the others

my mother’s best, just for me.

Subtle taste of chamomile,

love revealed in Earl Grey.

My sweet tooth she would appease

“Two lumps please,” I’d smile and say.

Sweet drinks still can take me back,

down the track toward yesterday.

It’s been years we’ve been apart;

in my heart, she’ll always stay

© 2017 - dustygrein

*** This form is another old Welsh creation,  the awdl gywydd. Not an easy form to work in, but its syllabic nature and cross linked rhymes make it powerful.

Such sweet supposition. My elegant uprise has sparked. Firing, and falling at will. All beginning within this. Within me, and my every last delinquent thought. Embedded, and engraved with my cosmically structured chaos. All that recklessly bound perfection. I've never felt my own life more. So, I keep onward through the pain. Through the miscalculation. Through the chemical imbalanced curse. I swerve through them all. One right after the next, all while regretting each investment that I make in their favor. Too much given. Too much taken. Too much lost. All in the name of nothing. I have to divide my devastation from my own compassion. Trusting that it won't always be this way. That someday I'll reach my own limitation. That i will find it's loophole, and push my way through it's boundries. With flying colors, and an impeccable acceptance that I'll invent all on my own. It just has to be enough. Enough to keep me. To keep me going. To keep me gone. To keep me ready for that ending that I inevitably await. Because I knew better. I knew the fiction of infinity. I knew that nothing gold could ever last. and that's alright. That's okay just as long as my life catches fire. Just as long as my death takes me home. I have to forgive. I have to forgive. I have to forgive them for their faults. I have to forgive myself for my sins. I have to breathe now. This life within me. It must live.. Cause no matter what, I need them to know. I need him to know. Above all, I need to know. So for now, I'll let it be enough. For now, I'll rest easy. I won't forget even a single second. I will enjoy it. I will revel in it. I will feel it all. Every last inch. Because this is all that's left. This is all that I have..

And I will make sure it is as divine as my fate will allow.

There is infatuation and obsession

And I am clearly obsessed with 

everything you do

when you wear your

Corsets with your wide hips

There is no relief for these burning eyes

when the image appears before me

of laced panels and sheer stockings

that go with your garters

and your hips that knock me

to my knees

I wish there were a cure to this obsession

this malady of erotica, for you are my Venus

and I would dare touch your devine

shape as your bend your legs before me

just to touch your thighs

and taste the essence of your beauty

When I die from your touch

I beg you to lay your lips upon mine

and let me touch your face so I 

can gaze upon it for eternity

and languish in the land 

of your corsets and wide hips

“Wise people die,

so do stupid fools.”

Whoever made that stark remark

must have been un-cool.

Mebbe it was Soc-ra-tes,

Homer or van Gogh,

Freud or Jung, Kim Jong-un;

Curly, Larry, Moe.

Proverbs & philosophers

rarely rule the day.

Perhaps we should (bad or good)

consider what they say.

Toothpicks are for cleaning teeth;

brushes brush our hair.

Sponges clean our bodies up,

scrubbing here & there.

So listen to my wizened words,

eat them if you can.

Chew them through (old & new).

Squeeze them with your hands.

For never has a dead man

touched love or hate or squirrels—

What’s gone is gone, what’s done is done,

all around the world.

Prudent people always die,

sometimes driving vans—

So live your life with zing & zeal,

Enjoy it while you can.