Transmitter Overload

The transparency,
Frequently,
Of love beatings,
Has me seeing,
Shades of yellow.
Hey fella fella,
I already toldja,
This love soulja,
Is no longer of the,
Quick to sell ya,
Jello Jella.
This persuasion,
In no means,
Contagious.
Coldest cold,
With no hots.
Overload,
Isn’t the best to bode,
On a road that’s temporary,
Lactose intolerant,
Eating dairy.
Sold,
A fairytale,
Reality unfolds,
The image now,
Is moldy.
Goldy Goldy.
An open door,
Is what most seek,
To reset the score.
Refresh,
In the 53rd week.

BFF

Existentially and torrentially a synchronicity will surface potentially
 and seek to erupt superficially,
our port of call lies in triangularly,
and accordingly there are no exits that surpass entry.
Thus,
the potentiality will continue to subsist in our reality,
lest one meets untimely at timely's intersection.

Heartless

He wants my heart.
5 miles to empty.
Ice cold blood has frozen it.
What remains,
Has to be retrained,
For so long,
It's been the brain;
Dictating, hating, stating,
the moves.
My heart has given up,
Given out.

He wants my heart.
Fraught with confusion,
Delusion, Seclusion.

He wants my heart.
Uncharacteristically,
My heart has become,
Anti-social,
Asexual,
Absent.

Wrapped in the music,
The bass,
The pitch,
Melodramatic tones,
My heart thrown,
In a bag,
Hidden.
A body without a soul,
Is dead.

He wants my soul.

Seeking Spirit

The "ships",
Abundantly clear it is,
Our friendship,
Non existent in your mind.
Abundantly clear it is,
Our relationship,
Non existent in mine.
When did it become ok,
To skip from friends to benefits.
I seek a sync.
A spirit ship.
Relationships are filled with,
Dualities,
False realities.
I’ll never get.
Ike tendencies,
Not for me.
Altar seekers,
Killing me.
Your timeline,
Merge with mine.
Erase.
I accept,
Your disposition.
As you must respect,
This inquisition.
It’s true,
You in bloom,
Me,
Anti-swoon.
You stand by the altar,
I stand by the bar.
Missed my connection.
Lost in conception,
Expeditiously advanced.
Precociously,
Immature.
Feelings abort.
Your existence.
Replaced.
New time,
And space.
Moved on.
Moved out.
Exit stage,
last scene.
Dusk.

Single Lady

Take a Walk,
What You See?
Is What you get?

Wow!
Just Saw a Dude,
With a PURSE.
A BAG.
Nuts on a SAG.
Jeans tighter than mine.
Two hold hands.
My hand handless.

"Hello"
All it took to make lips,
warm, anew
compared to that same ol' song
Play it safe.
Don't fall for it.
No new kats calling on the Cing.
Ol' man a flip
Wit a new one feignin' albeit
Don't quit it, he said.
I'm done.

6 years have passed,
I'm out here alone.
Way outside of my comfort zone.

Feeling Old & Married at the age of....sssshhhh.
Wow!
But yet still single,
unmarried by a thing.
But today to say he did ponder, even ask.
I'm more than sure, I would have to decline.
For that ass is branded,
NJT.
Never would've been mine to have.
Waiting on my party?
No
It's just me.

The Grinch

I remember the heart you had.
Back in March, I
place under your thumb
Metaphorically you became that,
habit too hard to cut back.
Break ups to makeups as they say.
But never a reconciliation;
Never a changing of terms.
They say absence makes
the heart grow fonder, And I say
then you need to go away for a VERY
long time.

Never a compromise, but life
has always had to be on your terms,
but then who would I be if I
wasn't myself (definitively)
Not the cheek you once rubbed
up against, with the stubbly.

Stolen away in immaturity,
only to grow up and feel
like she's losing the
child that she can't have
Not because she doesn't want
but because you won't man up.

It's not my place to bring
another fatherless child into
this world.

The Grinchiest of Grinches, i.e
The Church Educated Hypocrite,
what a Lie.

I am not my religion.
I exist as a spirit, eagerly awaiting
God to fulfill me with a blessing
that likens the none of you.
Hormones & blasphemy
Neurotransmitter blocked or maybe
overstimulated.

Facing a wall, where is this window of opportunity
or is debt happiness, I was better.
Where's the window I need, to get away
from the showcase of everything and nothingness?

You're a mean one,
Mr. Grinch.

Expired Ingredients

To You This MAY Concern,

Lately I’ve been,
Thinking about you.
I’ve been thinking about him.
And how the two of you won’t do for me.
And although, you two.
The two of you never existed,
Substantially together,
I dedicate this to you,
The two.

Engulfed by the madness,
Of what is life.
You have sidled yourself,
To my pan,
Burned into my peace,
Soaking up my grease.
You leased me.

To the point,
Where I find it hard to,
Consume my portion,
Without you,
All up in it.

However,
You say what you don’t mean,
And mean what you don’t say.
This confuses me.
Yes,
This,
Confuses Me.

Although it eats like a meal,
And it tastes like a meal,
It must be a meal?
But certainly is not the meal for me.
A bit grainy,
And too true to form.
While my tongue yearns for the,
Exotic,
The cultured,
And sometimes even the hometown Gyro.

You have that,
Unwavering taste,
As if mom and dad,
Were scared to try something new,
A little sugar perhaps,
Or maybe sincerity,
A jalapeno,
Would have been too spicy,
But some seasoning salt, and
Paprika might do.
Or maybe they should have
Spiced in some,
Bouillon,
A base.
At least something,
That can be worked with,
Instead,
Just Flour.

Broths,
We can work with.
But it seems,
They wanted you in their mold.
They taught you of marriage everlasting,
Although theirs never lasted.
Of love unrequited,
When they’d already
Quit it.
Of the mate,
Who hangs onto your every word.
But it was they who never learned,
That opposites do attract,
And YES,
Satisfaction,
Will always bring them back,
Even just for static.
It won’t stop you.

So for you brother,
You it may concern,
I hope that your lover,
Or other,
You seek,
Is everything that,
Mom and pop wanted you to
Keep.
And for your sake,
I hope that it’s real
And I hope that it's true,
Because lap dogs,
Can be picked up
Just about anywhere,
A latchkey woman
Of only superficial beaut,
Is only that,
Superficial,
And beaut.
But looks go away.
And usually do,
But then what is left,
You’ll be back where you started,
Or rather back where we finished,
With a walnut shell of a mate,
Who will skip out on YOU.

Yes,
to you this may,
Concern.

A Subsiding Paranoia

Paranoia is…
-racing to get the phone,
thinking it’s you
it wasn’t.
-rolling over in bed,
feeling for you
you’re not there.
-making a meal for two,
it’s only me.
-looking at every Acura 3.2TL license plates,
thinking they’re yours.
they never are.
-seeing your name everywhere I go,
it’s not you.
-dreaming about us together,
i wake up.
-passing places we’ve been
can’t go in,
won’t go in
-toyin’ in my mind with a lifetime of you,
i can’t do it.
-toyin in my mind of a lifetime without you,
i have to do it.
-seein’ you in every man,
it can’t be.
-seein’ you with other women,
she cries.

Getting Over You is….
-letting you leave a message
-stretching out in my bed;
without bumping into you.
-eating a meal for one and sharing
with the birds.
-hearing my name everywhere,
I go.
-occupying my time with others,
-going in those places where we,
once went and ordering all our favorite dishes.
-dreaming what the new boo
will look and feel like on me.
-dreamin’ of new life without u,
free to be me again, and
not the u, u wanted me to be.
-seein’ you with another woman,
she laughs.
As if you could get over me,
she’s just like me.

Pocket Change

Pocket Change


A quarter,
A dime,
A penny.

Sometimes they think,
Of myself as these,
But why?
You see.

A man’s terminology.
She’s a quarter,
A dime,
A penny.
A symbol of status?
To whom?

To them,
Certainly not me,
I’m that rare one,
They want to hold in,
Their pocket.
Never to be spent,
Never to be spoiled.
But why?

And then spend,
All the regulars,
Not that I’m regular.
Cause I am not,
Side Change.
Never have been.

It just irks me,
You see,
To be a picture of,
Perfection, but treated
As infection,
The plague.

Always second,
To work,
To the game,
To friends.
Never first,
Begged,
Borrowed,
Stealed me,
To be part of your sentence.

But that’s all I was,
Just part of your sentence.

I never existed,
Between the lines,
Inside the lines,
Around the lines.
Why?

Could I be,
A period,
A comma,
An Exclamation point?

Instead of just,
A quarter,
A dime,
A penny,
And at times,
Just Half Pence.

What is that about?
Begged,
Borrowed,
Stolen.

Once again,
I have to keep it,
In,
And wait,
For ex-change.

A process,
I’ll rapidly expedite,
As I am not satisfied,
In this pocket,
With these damn lint balls,
This butt sweaty wallet,
The old gum wrapper, or
Some other chick’s number.
Nope not me.

Whimsical Ideas

Don’t I Deserve,
A dance in September, November, December.
A place to remember,
Blue moons and Black Lagoons,
Harlem nights without the fright.

Lollipop swirls of,
Carelessness,
In the face of
Bareless caresses.

Hope afloat,
On a cloud lined with gold,
With a soul of bold,
To fairy,
My chariot to walk this way.

Don’t I Deserve,
Memories that and of,
Choose to ensue,
To ensure,
A state of clarity.
Sincerity of mind and wit.
Foot prints in cement,
Of yesteryear,
Washed away in rain,
With yester’s fears.

Don’t I Deserve,
A wave of excitement,
With highest threshold potential, hold it.
To be swathed in an intangible sense,
Of silken indulgence.

How boring to be bored with,
A life of such zest,
An overzealous factor of overlooked,
In success.
As a square always has 4 corners,
4 points,
4 cracks,
4 crevices.
How boring is this?

Don’t I Deserve,
A book,
With no ending,
A man,
With no boundaries,
A job,
With no worries,
A cat,
With a bark,
A 5 cornered ball,
A tree without pollen and flowers the same,
Friends without issues,
News,
Without crime,
The cute shoes,
In my size,
A head,
Without ache
A heart,
With no breaks,
Breakfasts and dinners,
Completely of cake,
An unshatterred reality,
Of pure life in totality,
A world of equality,
In mind, body, and soul.

Is that being bold to ask of such things?
To inquire for more,
In my inner being.
To be of the questioning nature of type,
To be certifiably certain,
That things just aren’t quite right.

Why is everything of this tangible place
So undeniably set
In ways that make life
Certifiably tep-id.

Don’t I Deserve
To be blissfully kissed
By rays of the sun
During winter solstice
Or bathed in pure rain
Top of Plains in Spain
On cool rainy nights,
This is my plight.
But with my mightiest might,
Instead I ponder here and
Sniff and
Sneeze, and scratch,
And scritch.

Waiting for this…
Pollen dust to lift,
A life changing phone call, letter, or fax.

Waiting for…
The moon to rise,
The sun to set,
The water from above,
To crash here below,
Scenery new,
Change of projects,
Attempting to protect and secure,
That which is me.

I endure this life here,
Waiting for you,
Renew.

Or awakening in man,
The other parts of the brain,
Which remain,
Not in use.

Don’t I deserve?
To meet myself in you,
You, the one who can,
See and hear,
The real thoughts,
In my head,
Which are saturated in,
Dread.

For it is dreadfully true, that in,
This day during this age,
I may never meet you,
And this has placed in my spirit,
A woeful outlook this which is new,
This which is now,
That which is later.

So shall I continue to live,
For today.
Forgetting tomorrow,
Which is always on time.