184.

Another year spent
in dissipation, such joy
these lazy bones bring.

183.

Memory, the tool
through which knowledge forms its own
chance at making change.

182.

Your bigotry a
luxury comprised of hold-
-ing popular choice.

181.

The displacement of
normative, inherent feel-
-ings, rewinds oddly.

180.

Only in looking
beyond what your eyes see, can
true vision be found.

179.

Retain the bounty
of appreciation for
all creation gives.

178.

True kindness for this
holiday should be sharing
your joy, not hoarding.

177.

You offered me such
kindness when it was most in
need, my sweet phoenix.

176.

The accident of
your stabbing just makes the pain
in my back sharper.

175.

How very little
you know is obvious by
how loud you tell it.

174.

Who could ever know
one more intimately than
another just like?

173.

The dream of love so
often supersedes moody
heart's reality.

172.

His earnestness shows
its juxtaposition clear
through all the sown lies.

171.

Escaping love is
sometimes the only choice that
offers true caring.

170.

The burst of color
bleeds from my eyes in slow
drawn kaleidoscope.

169.

Emotions press down
the haze of addiction that
pain and anger feed.

168.

Dull machinations
turns men into monsters with
such disturbing ease.

167.

Shadows and mirage,
the press of discerning all
negates privacy.

166.

The only ceiling
on ambition is one's own
imagination.

165.

Emotions dance through
my eyes, in homage of this
world's aching beauty.

164.

Floating stars, cast like
dreams across the sky, fill my
nights with gentle hope.

163.

The unrelenting
visual emotions in
the sky today, storms.

162.

He sent telegrams
of his intentions as a
lazy precursor.

161.

The sky is glinting
in an early winter hue
of tender hazed light.

160.

What you consider
reason, I call an easy
petulant upset.

159.

The haze of sun pulls
me into desultory
stretches, calling sleep.

158.

For every moment
of feeling, this mosaic
envelops me more.

157.

Your image is the
flower pressed in homage of
hope between my bones.

156.

Onward adulthood
marches on, with the inner
child too often

left behind. Who can
you even really be when
you cut out your heart?

155.

The ephemeral
passion of belief, should be
more kindness, than rote.

154.

Le soleil passe par
un tamis de passion et
d'amour, tenu tendre.

153.

Sleep crawls over and
into me persistently
as fall's end quickens.

152.

The cold embrace of
welcome rain, still needs some hint
of variance too.

151.

I still miss the way
the sun sets over mountains
fringing Las Vegas.

150.

The way his mouth moves,
always onward in motion,
reminds me of a

colorfully done
pinata, only there to
be broken inside.

149.

Upended letters
and empty word's gyration,
such empty meaning.

148.

Dissolute flagships
trudging through the stubborn sky,
some lazy salute.

147.

The brilliance of fields,
gently turned and beautiful,
feel like so much hope.

146.

Each handshake a soft,
whispered secret, passing thoughts
between palm's imprint.

145.

I watch those hands, the
way they tell stories out from
within those rough fists.

144.

The entire world
passes in solitary
blinks. Always lonely.

143.

The perpetual
fool, running away as if
worth chase's effort.

142.

Even as you spoke
I watched your body go all
quiet. Bodies tell.

141.

How the shuddering
grief of a history fades
even while being.

140.

Sometimes I feel like
I can taste the tragedies
of all people's lives.

139.

These monoliths of
desolation. Sideshows made
anachronistic.

138.

You spread yourself out
across the bed, legs bent on
sweaty sheets in a

pose of sacrifice
and all I can wonder is
just how many have

passed beneath the arch
of your passion's extended
offer before me.

137.

The stilled coffin tongues
of regret, mock our shadows
through the petulant

cheeked windows full of
all the dusty memories
our limbs once harbored.

136.

Your love tries to tear
rivers through veins, forgetting
it can't reach that deep.

135.

The light of his heart
shines through the weight of distance
with a great friendship.

134.

The patterns of my
heart seem determined to stay
dyslexic, onward.

133.

I count off the days
between our ever shrinking
distance. Just waiting.

132.

The stars remain an
echo of beauty, even
when one cannot see.

131.

How softly she wraps
those lips around my words in
a love's reprisal.

130.

Her backbone, long used
as ambition's ladder, broke
its spine by bending.

129.

The wound of those eyes,
haunted by betrayal, bled
into me. Aching.

128.

The imprint of the
seam from his backseat stayed pressed
into my flesh for

hours after we'd
been done. Sweat slicked and quiescent.
Limbs holding skin close.

127.

That moment, when the
shine of your eyes is still lit
with joyous laughter.

126.

It was there that I
saw you, standing on the edge
of a bridge, tilting.

125.

Souls dancing in their
own honor, celebrate far
more than mere bones can.

124.

The echo of saints
herald a memory for
the future as well.

123.

Let your children out
to dance tonight. Free them to
experience life

and their childhood
while innocence and joy can
still be found within.

122.

Heartache is only
a symptom seeking vaccine
by love's sharp needle.

121.

The pumpkin mimics
harvest's evil revelry
through knives and candles.

120.

A million depressed
and angst filled puppet cliches.
Fucking teenagers.

119.

I wish I wanted
to hate you. But not even
that would be simple.

118.

The abortion of
feelings you keep vomiting
up, hardly woo me.

117.

Lispy kid outside
my window, if you fuck up
my immediate

napping plans, I will
totally beat you senseless
with that tricycle.

116.

A thick slate hued sky
overhangs the entire
day in foreshadow.

115.

That bygone age moves
past in a gentle caress
of beauty and sound.

114.

Chaste lips and sweaty
palms, how quickly innocence
changes the focus.

113.

The crux, redemption
or survival, decided
in a second's end.

112.

The unrelenting
sky stalks us in clouds and soft
shadows. Following.

111.

Empty faces move
this world of robots into
motions, pointlessly.

110.

This kaleidoscope
of sound, builds and destroys in
equal stills, flashing.

109.

Today, nothing stands
between the horizon and
me, but sheer brilliance.

108.

Her voice breaks a heart
through token protestations
of what love won't be.

107.

The agony that
waits behind each desperate
joy, enveloping.

106.

Her history an
inexorable onslaught
of a life's mistakes.

105.

A tragedy in
manifest, as smiles mask
the world's vicious sneer.

104.

The joy encroaching
with each new avowal of
his emotions, held

like magic out to
her, blinded every bit of
reason. Shattering.

103.

The vague haze of light
drifting through the sheer curtains
hypnotizes the

imagination,
caught in the folds of its soft,
but cloying, embrace.

102.

Laughter fills up the
heart, exploding out from eyes
in shining glory.

101.

The dark sings gentle
lullabies into the light
glow, down from the moon.

100.

My heart is littered
with all the ongoing works
of hope's small trials.

99.

Today is my day.
My day, my day. Today is
my day. And not yours!

98.

It almost hurts, how
very careful they are, from
learned memory.

97.

The beating of this
heart is resounding in the
dull aches of my head.

96.

I am forever
embraced amid the riot
of feelings held like

inexhaustible
threads, linking me to you,
through our history.

95.

Late at night, phone held
close, his voice travels up my
spine in slow shivers.

94.

Afterwards, I would
swear that innocence had
worn him like mirrors.

93.

In your eyes I see
the testaments to all that
could be, just weighing.

92.

We came together
urgently explosive, lost
in the rites between.

91.

Conformity is
but one of segregation's
methods of lynching.

90.

How did privacy
and freedom become rivals
in choosing safety?

89.

Your mouth rubbed mine
in a soft goodbye rightly
read as surrender.

88.

The kiss of wind through
the window as lights blink past
teases in kisses.

87.

The taste of autumn
is beginning to settle
its warmth on me.

86.

I yearn to be freed
from these contrived passions
eluding solace.

85.

My mother's ghost sits
over my shoulder for this
anniversary.

84.

And the memory
holders come crawling back out
from their old boxes.

83.

What is matter in
a room full of decisions
long since given out.

82.

Overcast shadows
and dark skies raining. Oh, how
I have missed this place.

81.

Too often love is
used as a curse instead of
a hopeful blessing.

80.

Sometimes those bottles
are only illusions to
an empty symptom.

79.

Smoke wafts up like wraiths
in the sky, lighting up their
passion in fire.

78.

The way he bends and
writhes beneath the ropes tying
him before me, woos.

77.

The soft expulsion
of her breath teases my mouth
into surrender.

76.

Rationality
tends to escape when it comes
down to emotions.

75.

We're all somebody's
ghost. So keep loving fine lines
for some company.

74.

The beauty of the
sky holds, as stars mirror this
emotion's disease.

73.

Wonderful things did
happen today too. When do
we remember that?

72.

This tortured version
of mimed hearts paints itself
a stained mockery.

71.

There is little as
satisfying as the pain
when my tongue whips him.

70.

The pulse of his breath
will never escape my lungs.
Choking down history.

69.

I will forever
be haunted by her face, cast
in memories.

68.

The wind rustles through
the trees and brushes down my
hair like soft fingers.

67.

The leaves fall to
the ground in a gentle brush
of sound on cement.

66.

Desperate. Lonely.
He was always only all
too willing to give

it all up, every
little thing, for just a small
fragment of her heart.

65.

A quick glimpse, seen through
the strings of a rapturous
drawn duality.

64.

Silhouettes cross the
stage in their inanimate
dance to memory.

63.

Yet another bare
lesson in growing up. It's
all so meaningless.

62.

An explosion of
sound, like rough sex and violent
tendencies. Bursting.

61.

A writhing mass of
chords, riding through your veins like
emotion's outlet.

60.

She seemed destined to
the tragedy seeking its
escape in her eyes.

59.

The broken heart of
a sinking ship's reckless hope,
that rescue might come.

58.

Lost. Left in all the
destructiveness of humans,
housed only in fuck.

57.

Those empty words house
such hopeless faith, whose walls are
bent to always break.

56.

Inescapable
promises, strung out on heart's
empty commitments.

55.

I am a severed
connection . Ripped apart at
the seams, filled back with

some hazy sense of
loss. Begging for a mere stitch
of feeling to hold.

54.

Parceled face, sent out
to play. Amalgamated
emotions. Waiting.

53.

Outside, the streetlights
shine downward like passing thought's
interrogation.

52.

In need of a piece
of love, to suture up the
hole that was my heart.

51.

This massacre of
spent emotions, vomited
up and congealed.

50.

This demonstrative
love between, was nothing more
than a noose to him.

49.

The frozen still of
heart's orchestration, sifts through
my eyes like a sieve.

48.

Even an embraced
tyranny is still ruled
with totality.

47.

We sink together,
deep, into the abyss of
our emotions here.

46.

The regard of hope
and beauty pixeled over
despair in fractures.

45.

Vague and absented
motivations, are the clear
keynotes of the day.

44.

Set alarm clocks and
insomnia. Internal
contradictions suck.

43.

Curb your shadows and
dance bare feet deep into this
anniversary.

42.

A week passes in
busy silence. The return
finds nothing undue

having been missed.
The routine of asking why
I partake, ensues.

41.

Only in sleep do
we tell each other our true
secrets. Across the

gulf of suspended
judgments. Passing our greatest
communications.

40.

The smell of rain and
brine, carried off the water
soothes me deep inside.

39.

Today, the sky is
full of a beautiful slate
surrender, whipping

a tumult among
the shoveled and leeched
clouds in the abyss.

38.

An army of rage
seen through frenzied limbs action.
This mosh pit madness.

37.

Here I am, stuck still,
as words line the sill of my
eyes, and meaning falls.

36.

Beautifully poignant
renderings of sound, cast heart's
exquisitely low.

35.

The writhing of flesh,
shudders us together and
apart, skin dancing.

34.

The delicacy
of bent stem's petals are cowed
under morning dew.

33.

The velvet brush of
tongues and skin, ply me into
a sweet surrender.

32.

The sky turns into
tar, each time our history
attempts repeating.

31.

Finger paints mar the
cusp of beauty in divine
parts ineptitude.

30.

Caring for the world
should never be a burden
while your heart's beating.

29.

Summer, I would like
to officially break up
with you. Now, please go

away & take your
evil death rays with you. Thanks.
Sincerely, a B.

28.

Her voice, arching sound
past the splendor of my heart
echoes in wonder.

27.

Amidst the still of
darkness, the voices of my
writing speak loudest.

26.

The silvered moonlight
parts the voyeurism of
a star's met climax.

25.

Night, cannot hide, the
ways in which I can't forget
you. How hard I try.

24.

Supine lust carves out
the lashes on a passing
frenzy of passion.

23.

Distractions in the
air sift dreams throughout your eyes
in a lashed frenzy.

Twenty-two.

Plaintive sorrow lends
beautiful lament in sounds
that are heart breaking.

Twenty-one.

Your eyes tell stories
from within gentle whispers,
fractured in the night.

Twenty.

In the silence of
night, stars break like waves towards
the encroaching dawn.

Nineteen.

The sun moves in a
desperate miming, fisting
hands into the clouds.

Eighteen.

Pink Floyd is Alice,
Wonderland seen through acid
tinged eyes and split tongues.

Seventeen.

His jungle pressed flesh
waits with dead man's camouflage
for missing saviors.

Sixteen.

Pinked flesh, hungry and
flush under the push pull of
a needle strewn back.

Fifteen.

Days of warmed laughter
fall into ready patterns
of lemonade and

softly turning fans.
Enjoyed from canopies of
our joint hammock dreams.

Fourteen.

The kids next door make
me ever grateful for the
use of birth control.

Thirteen.

I can't wait for the
turn of foliage, falling
leaves and crisp weather,

to start. Cool months should
be mandated to usurp
heat altogether.

Twelve.

Take my hand, bow to
splendor, dressed in the colors
of celebration.

Eleven.

Another softly
bruised memory passes like
a haunting nightmare.

Ten.

Your blind intentions
cleared out memory's disease
with us started, new.

Nine.

What a lonely world
this is and how sad that I
can't see it changing.

Eight.

Upside down, the day
plays its reversed emotions
for the dyslexic.

Seven.

Ennui leaves too much
fodder for the hate machine
to toil under.

Six.

Women's chemistry
makes for tumultuous times
inside her reason.

Five.

Sublime vision lends
Picasso painted beauty
in memory's frame.

Four.

Nights of warmed laughter
silvered moonlight between the
stars of our joined eyes.

Three.

Illusory love
forms chalk lines on limb's cement
in heart's betrayal.

Two.

Word voyeur, lost to
soft sighs and shuddering breaths
intoxication.

One.

Man drawn sickles, bend
to wide eyes tilted with drought
under their dresses.

Octopus arms and
leeching emotions. The truth
walks on broken stilts.

Salt pillar fault lines.
Your memory devastates
the hallowed ground here.