*.*

[In all manners]

Bleed
for the time it’s worth
bleed
for the death of
mediocrity
bleed while you’ve still
got the blood

bleed
a thousand rivers
in the place of
one tear to give it
what
you’ve got

bleed
for what you know
is right

bleed not
out of anger
but out of will
not suited
for the timid,
bleed truth
whether it takes
an eon to explain

bleed against
the headboard
w/ the rise of dawn,
because
it’s the only solid
surface left
when the ride
gets crazy,
bleeding
for the want
of wants

poem published by Rolling Thunder Press
as well included in my manuscript: Show Heaven to the Sheep
photo explanation: The reason I used that photo in particular is because
that is a vial of my own blood from experiments a fellow artist & I were doing
using blood letting in our art (that vial includes a spiral of copper, corked & sealed w/ wax).
The bead is bone & the trinket is St. Dominic (astronomers).

*.* Emerge

|Ring around the scalpel| 11|21|13

Hello doc,
you didn’t even knock this time around,
ah, & what’s that smile about___
you say you want to take a look inside?

W/ a simple listen you’ll know I’ve got
two beats of heart & an echo,
in fact there’s a whole orchestra in there
for you to play w/, well over!

Just remember gentle, because
it’s been so long since I’ve been willing
to play operation___
but you know I’m patient & open for
healing communication.

*.* A drive around the block

|Saying to friends past| 11|18|13

Distinctly, distinctly, distinctly operating on what it’s like to be alive & yes
I saw their eyes shift & heard their words stumble not knowing what to say or how
to act when it came to me, since I managed to change drastically in such a short
period of time, to them but what had taken my entire life to work up to,
so what does it matter if mostly they are gone___ I’ve found other things to do___
& that was the point from the beginning.

I knew it made no sense
& thus I slid comfortably into obscurity, bow-out & build a different life, it’s okay,
there are witnesses___

What is is, what’s past is past, & the point once over again:
there are other horizons to be had.

photo taken by Amanda Hernandez

*.* Digit

|Are you happy w/ your figure 8?| 11|18|13

Trying not to idealize other people’s lives since so much happens behind closed doors,
there are skeletons crammed in every closet whether or not the stench of death
is present.
In union especially___

Life is so loud & rarely ever quiet, even when sitting alone one must wait
for true silence, which will inevitably be interrupted by something or someone,
knowing it will happen & still generally it is unexpected.
Welcome or unwelcome
it happens
& it doesn’t matter if you’re relieved or stressed, either way you get both.

Hello, long distance calling___

*.* From another shot

|Her father’s thoughts| 11|8|13

Pungent instinct not drama, he said___ & it took years to place.

It’s not theatrics when she goes cold, terse or even violent w/ anger,
instead___
it is thrashing internally just to keep her head above water
in the torture game.
To live so alive in pain, to be shattered over each day w/ bare moments
she refuses to consider reprieve___ it’s a war story,
at best.
Romance not in plot, but what point is there in war w/out love,
no happy ending w/ fairy-tales in mind, just a hope to get out of hell
& find a comfortable settlement w/ what health is left &
create from what has been learned___ .

She isn’t being dramatic, it is struggle forward to personal peace,
if she can convince herself that such exists w/in futurity.

*.*...

|Vertebral nothings| 11|5|13

Swallow

A simple hello w/ a whisper of constant lips, a word like sensation rushing through
corneas finger-tips tingling sitting patiently in thought of casual interaction
a simple touch of the tongue & follow of vertebrae structure showing more than one
can say out loud right away, for fondling even running rationalization aspect as
wait to say all other things which currently come through in other ways

Sugar taken w/ all else to be felt & found

Not hollow