PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

What are faces
what are bodies
and beds?

One might say
are for sleeping
for holding and witholding
love.

matresses
worth their added accumulations
of all the years that a lifetime of
togetherness in;

Blood, sweat, tears,
urine, femanine secretions,
semen, alcohol and beer
could manufacture
in enough sluffed off skin
to form two whole new atrocities
and give birth to them
between the acidity and the alkaline.

and if it could speak
between your ears
oh the stories
that pillows might tell.

When you held her
when she held you
and touch crashed through
like bolted down old-motel decor
and peeling wallpaper
in the days of old
in plaster of paris
lead paint, and asbestos
there was love
between thin walls
like the ancient skin
of truth and belief
these carnal kinds
of sleeping.

Whisper here like echoes
And bang out rudiments
between headboards banging
and loveless someones
begging to just sleep in them
and forget.

And Charles
was the most beautiful man
I have ever seen
with the bulbous nose
like tulips planted in the dirt
before they rise from the dead
scotch soaked little aleppensis
pocked with years of 80+ proof
acne scars and giant pores
that she could sip his intellect from.

and Cass was beautiful
but wanted to be loved

no matter
regardless
because of...
something else.

her heart
went invisible
on the day she was born
and she searched
every day since she could walk
in the eyes of every man that looked
and they all said the same thing
"You're so beautiful."

but took her heart back
with their gaze
as they each, and all, walked away
and she lost it, and found it
a hundred times along the way
breaking of it like glass tipped hat pins
and cuts across the throat.

but not you charles...
because your beauty was true
Fat as a thirsty bear in an open brewery
cardiac arrest in your veins,
and in the shape of your thick hands
and troglydite physique;

ever and always built for mischief drink
and the most honest words
anyone ever sword fought
with a pen or mapped out in semiphore
on an old Royal typewriter.

And it was your words
the only thing that gave it
majesty, or heirarchy.

created by the Muse
while on a bender herself.
and you Lovely man
were her all time favorite work of art.
and Cass and me,
well
we loved you for it.
and I wish she had stayed with you.
I wish she had wanted
to finally know that in your eyes
her heart would stay
and in yours...
the Bluebird may have stayed with us
a little longer.