Three short poems ... I ~ Am ~ Me

Poem 1. I
When you couldn't be the one I adored
                 I became that lie
   I grew my mask
Crawled into your illusion
     Naked
my social wings
            already explored and torn

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Poem 2. Am

always a little late
even on the turn
their is nothing right
or wrong
or more
my naked illusions have been shattered
Im just a reflection passing by

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Poem 3. Me

I am just a breath away
I look at you
my affection disappears
your memory next to me
I keep it close enough
don't I
This memory of me

I am just a breath away
I remember eyes wide open
You watching me watching you
your memory next to me

Yet I cant remember this me
I see a me of reflections
in every mirror I see
parts of me
reflected yet
I don't recognize this me

I am just a breath away from me
                                             Yet
I don't recognize
who
is
this
me

Are These Words Really Mine

dumps
rubbish
bin
it
lid
off
obnoxious
knocked
out
in
corners
FLASH
eyes
spying
on
the
off
moment
in
 time
give me words
that are mine
are these above me
or beneath
I ask you
can you tell me
what it all means
freedom
is that writing
what you want
speaking your mind
choosing your religion
or not
writing a song
could that be freedom
love
never enough
too much
too little '
not enough to go round
tell me can you
is there anything
hear that you see
that is free
here
in
my
words
that
you
read
are they just words
are they really mine
have you wrote
anything here
that may be considered yours
is that what freedom is
that the is 's and the the the's
the and's be you what that he me she see blue color so on's
are for the picking
cotton on
like
finders
keepers
loosers
weepers
just
surviving
just
writing
freedom
are
these
words
really
mine

Punch Fake Media Spoils

punch fake
how i hate the flake
like paint peels
nice to rip
but to see
underneath
all thats cosmetic
paint and peel
You really
Aren't quite the real deal

punch fake
when i look at you
such a pose you present
of yourself to the world
sex sells oh yes
even in poetry
so it tells
your story
using pains of women
 wars
glorified miseries
to gain your glory
to get your story

punch fake
from a miscarriage
to the carriage
you have carried it all
it seems
only I see your real lines
they are silvery purple
stretch lines of truth
a mass million zillion dot dot dots

punch fake
you tell lies
make your own faerie tales
exploit secrets
manipulate what is white
what is black
print it all
                  on an
off beaten track
and in between
Giving wrong directions
                                       
                                     wrong direction

and what about the grays
There are no grays
so you say
Grays
its an area
a mentality
those well trod old paths
common as muck
Take ya luck
its all pot luck
Where you end up
Getting nipped and tucked
all in the mind
thats where the gray of day is
and the gray of night stay
gray or grey or grave
sounds much of the same
All them grays
Old Truths
'Well           you say
"Its all cement
                         they just need a good filler
Like cracks and
                     paint peels
No one knows
               Anyhow what is
and what isn't
                The real deal

punch fake
are the words
that fall
from your lips
The looks
that you roll in a blink
with eyes
                                      that spy
on others
 and lie

fake punch
is the only thing you know how to give
to stand and deliver
you would rather fall
than be a giver

punch fake

Gone Each Day I Search for You

in the gone
the cracks
like glass
broken
lost
No
gone
Yes
like the walls
we build
their existence floats
across our minds
existing in time
but gone
on each road
you take
gone
blocking your way
no corners or angles
just gone
not in a dark hole
or a bright light
gone has no change
no flavour
no colour
no handles to hold on to
gone is neither hot or cold or warm

gone is like death
that you never saw
heard
experienced
in goodbyes

gone
is not a vanishing
or a disappearance
something you saw
in the corner of your eye
and then it was gone

gone exist
it was always there
then it was not
gone is real
gone lives within the left behind
It is something you know
It is Someone you loved

gone is something
you had
gone is someone
out there
that never came back
gone never changes
it is monotone
it is constant
in its reality
gone exist
in moments
in time
over
and
over
again
empty
sad
hurt
screams
within
the pain
of
left behinds
alone
and
gone

My blue blue blues bleed too

Im the addict of blues
Red slashes of blooms
In my veins
I share room with a blue fit lady
Who lives in a sheer glass tube

Strange friends we are and came to be
one night
you were there
the
only
one
when
my soul was stripped bare

That night you remember
when you held my arm so tight
entered me with the tiniest bite
like a little vampire lover you were mine that  night
and now I am yours
You watched while my spirit
committed suicide
and decided to revive
my mind
and now
you
stay
with
me every single day
and at night you fill me like life
with the sweet warmth of a lullaby
sweet blooms
of red
like a beautiful silk slash
I wear you inside
Your my blue blue veil
to my pain
nobody knows
my true identity
just a name

This Is My Shit

although I have issues
have been incarcerated
been judged by jury
bashed in fury
raped in ripples
till I've been no more
than an emotional cripple

although I have been
abused and accused
told I was challenged
by my mental lack
or wish
to conform
Have a great mistrust of the little white sheep
Keep turning
My key backwards
to the systems connections
Won't recognize there razor back ways
to corrections
spent most of my time
in solitary
reflections

although all
I write because I am and can ` I also paint too
but that don't make me everything I do
and although all through
Im everything above Im also none of it
Im so much more
some days
And
so much less
on others
and writing Shit Yes helps
and writing Shit doesn't help
Nor does it hurt
but I don't
like the idiots
that think
its because
I've been abused
and I have abused
oh yes I have
to survive
you'll be amazed what you can do
and wont do
and have do
and don't do
and the system thinks this is an ok do
for me for you
That i can write my shit too

No
I shake my head to all who state this claim as theirs
That because I didn't fucking wind up state mental stamped and mad
That somehow now my claim to fame
is that I survived
and now Im cool
No longer called a fool
and thought that I write
because of my life tools
No one should have this shit to write
No one should have to fight
No one should have to be raped till they ripple
emotionally crippled
I don't write because of above
and I don't write because of below
I write because I can and am and do
But no one should have to write about shit
But this is my shit
and its all I can do

matter is made of matter

tell me im white
pure white
it doesn't matter
tell me Im nothing
it doesn't matter
tell me my words
are white
it doesn't matter
I know they are black on a white screen
and are made of matter
thats what matters

Gone

Living with the unknown
not knowing
a stranger
beside you sleeps
one
two
three
four
five
six

Living with the unknown
not knowing
a stranger walks beside you
one
two
three
four
five
six
seven
eight
years
Then the Crashing Gate
end of the road
no entry

the brick wall
in the mind
of confused
height
unmeasurable
pain
in the unknown
of unknown
in the trust
in the vulnerable
life
thats just been realized
thats just been burglarized
of all your secrets
confessions
of confidences
shared and believed
the plans
the good
the bad
the ugly
the treasures of the mind
Gone
Vanished
Taken
Stolen
there is no word
that fits this puzzle
Just
one day you wake
wishing you had never
slept
to the
wake

like a shell you find upon the beach
empty
beside you a space where once
he slept one two three four five
where once he stepped
six seven eight long years
without a trace
no goodbye
like an empty shell
of left behinds
shadows
whispers
a face
just
someone
something similar
the turn of the head
always there
like flickers of light
catching the corners
as the shadow
leaves the body
vanishing
like an empty shell of space
without a trace

He never existed
I was told by the wind
the sea
the tides
the sun
the moon
the law in blue
where I stand in disbelief
Panic sets
in black and blue of
SCREAMINGs
     Perhaps your hurt
                                lay waiting
                                                to be found
I wait
and I wait
             and wait
I look where no one else would look or think
but No  they said
the name you knew
has never been
does not exist

Are you sure you lived
with this man you claim
has vanished one morn
who's name you give
does not exist
I wait
I wait
I wait
A Vacant Sign
Now exists
in my mind
in my eyes
my soul
board and nailed
shattered
from when you
left
an
empty
shell
of
you
behind

now just space

I still shake the shell
peek inside
Nothing

Like me
empty

perhaps
you were a figment of my imagination
for six eight .. ...
perhaps
you just never existed
for me

Just a Cat

The way she swings those hips
a fur of genuine tiger
rolling stripes around her body
tight
she has no misgivings
when she pounces
just another feather
left
her calling card
purr

The fall of the last leaf

The forceful autumn winds
insistent to take all

finally the last leaf
in fetal curl
falling
falling
falling
   suddenly swept up
         cradled in the winds hold
And as suddenly
    let go

falling
falling
free now
            letting go
of all that holds
all that was
all in the now
all in and then
to the ground
   mother earth
             waits
for the last leaf's fall