What is that standing
Behind Me?
Fuck.
Life is Dead,
My
Boots Ran Off,
&
The Shadows are
Horny
For Blood.
Take
Back every nice thing
you
said to me.
Love is an Ape
Playing
in the mud!
(Infected
with
The Devil's Leprosy.)
+
Somewhere
an
Angel
is
watching...
watching
you
Burn...
in vain
for
Causes that
bring
only hell and
pain.
There was never
A
Truth.
(It's Memory
Went
Insane)
Some Remarks upon an
Unnamed Tomb.
+++++++++++++
Don't end up this
way;
make every moment
count.
Living each as if
it's
Your Last Day!
(and Love in Vast
Amounts.)
Their eyes are broken.
+++++++++++++
Their Eyes are
Broken ,
and I keep thinking that
God
doesn't visit here much
except perhaps to toss an
occasional peanut at the
Laughing Lunatic Choir.
(who's siren song thus haunts
me still.)
Some days I think hope is
still
A possibility ,
and
the right words or deeds
could
Save Us All
From
The Hell of Ourselves.
But..
more often than not my eyes
are now broken too.
(and my lunatic laughter haunts
the memories of some poor Siren.)
Jsh
Before you.
++++++++
Before
you ,
a sad me crept dark whiskey
Alleys
and cursed the
Heavens Blue.
(Because I had never
walked their valleys.)
But now I'm a freed
Slave,
lost in your smiling face,
and no longer haunted
By
The Grave!
(because you showed me
Love's True Grace.)
Jsh
At my Brother's Funeral I
was on enough booze and
drugs to kill a horse 🐴
and spent most of that two
hours afraid I was going to
puke my heart out, or shit my
soul onto the recently Lysol
saturated floors.
Finally when it was my
moment to speak
speak I stumbled my way through
The 23rd psalm and managed not
to fuck it up somehow.
Then went outside and my eyes
bled tears into what remained of my
heart lying on the cold gravel ground.
(My brother hated the 23rd psalm.)
My job as a funeral director went
south pretty quick because old ladies
disliked my "so a dead guy walked into
a bar" jokes. (Humorless Hags.)
If you got paid to bitch about every
random , basic, or naturally occurring
thing on the planet the moment your
eyes opened I'd be a successful man..
but sadly the market for bitching is looking
grim so I need to do something else.
Suicidal Standup Comedian, Street Corner
Castaway in need of change, or perhaps
Fast food employee are the most likely
Fates .
Godamn...
(I wish old ladies liked dead guy
walking into a bar jokes.)
A troubled water.
+++++++++++++
Somewhere in a valley of
forsaken stars
she walks happily by
troubled
waters with a head so
full of
Perfect Dreams no Woes
in
Life could break her
HeaRt 💞 .
(and I'm grateful just to
Be those troubled waters.)
Jsh
A General Summation.
++++++++++++++
Breakfast mornings at the shelter
are a real smash.
Between meth-head cat fights over
cheating boyfriend's who pimp their
women out for dope,
and hobo whiskey jamborees at
7:30 a.m.
in the devil's courtyard ran by
"Ministers of God"
who
mostly just wanna cash their pay
and
entertain whatever secret lusts haunt
their
Hypocritical Hearts of Stone .
Few roses remain in such gardens be
assured.
But one fine morning things were different.
Beauty walked bravely into a den of
Vipers ,
pet all the serpents, and made doves out
of
Snakes with such ease it seemed
rehearsed.
+
She told me I looked out of
place.. as if I didn't belong ..and
I said " yeah that about sums it
up in general" (which caused her to
laugh at my truth she thought was a
Joke. )
+
I saw her a few weeks later at
the library laughing at jokes told
by one of the meth-kings who pimps
his women out to half the leeches
congregating beneath The Twilight Bridge.
Her Laughter cut me in ways the streets
never could, and I felt betrayed in some
way though no promises were ever made.
+
Later on after a few pints of whiskey I
spent the night with three gypsy girls who
sell their fleshly wares to more respectable
sorts from the Business End of Town.
They said I was cute and they'd never had
A Cowboy before so I could come party if
I wanted to.
Oddly enough I never touched any of them
that night , or any after .
and word got around I was crazy because
the only thing I wanted to do was drink my
ass off and recite poetry at the non-judgemental walls until I black out...and..
(yep. That about sums it up in general.)
Jsh
Stars for Brunch.
+++++++++++++++
I
woke up late
had
Stars for Brunch
Then beat my head
against
A wall till Mona Lisa
Grew
A Crack Head Smile.
My cat was bitching because
the can of spaghettios I poured
in her dish were apparently not
to her liking
so I tossed that shit in the trash
and
threw down some leftover
Salmon
from the night before that
I
Took two bites of before deciding
that
Life's a Cunt and Whiskey
Is
The New Salmon or river of
Lethe
which washes away all self inflicted
ills.
+
By 10:30 I snort a line
of
Percocet that could kill the
Pain
of Half The World but only
seems
to piss me off enough to
Have
an Early Beer Lunch followed
by
A game of double-bullet-russian-
roulette
Inspired by my dead asshole
Brother
but I don't want to talk
about that shit...
(it might ruin my perfect day.)
J.s.h.
With Only A Pauper's
Heart to Give.
+++++(+++++++
The morning started out a real
shit sandwich
that grew far worse as the day
progressed;
and
She was out there making
friends
with the world.
( as I rotted away in my
Loneliness .)
+
Her cellophane-crackle lips
got
the whole thing started;
but she's also not the one to
blame.
Fault lies with the broken
hearted!
(and how they deal with shame.)
+
so when I'm all used up searchin
for
a better way to be,
(and she quits telling me the finest
way
to live)
ill likely remain lost and lonely!
(with only a paupers heart to give.)
J.S.H.
