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 or shit my
soul
out onto the recently
Lysol
saturated floors.
Finally when it was my
moment
to speak I stumbled my way through
The
23rd psalm and managed not
to
fuck it up somehow.
Then went outside as my
eyes
bled tears from what remained
of my Dead
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,
and Whiskey-Hobo Jamborees at
7:00 a.m.
in the Devil's Courtyard ran by
"Ministers of God"
who
just wanna cash in their paychecks
to
entertain whatever Secret Lusts Haunt
their
Hypocritical Hearts.
Few Roses remain in such Gardens be
assured.
But one fine morning things were
different.
&
Beauty walked bravely into This Den Of
Vipers ,
pet every Serpent, and made Doves out
of
Snakes with such ease it somehow 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 assumed was a
Joke ).
+
I saw her about a week later at
the library, laughing at jokes told
by one of the Meth-Kings who pimps
his Women out to Those Lunatic Leeches
Congregating beneath Twilight Bridge.
Her Angelic Laughter cut me in ways The Lonely Streets
never could, and I felt betrayed
though No Promises were ever made.
+
Later on (after more than a few pints of Whiskey), I
spent the night with Three Lovely Gypsy Girls who
sell their Fleshly Wares to more "Respectable
Souls" 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 night after..
and soon word got around that I was "Crazy", because
the only thing I ever seemed to want to do was drink my
ass off and recite poetry at the non-judgemental walls until I black out..
and..
("yeah, 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.
