dark poems

Morning after whisky blues

She told me she was

In love

I asked how it felt

Her smile split her face in two

The night was still young 

And already I had wine stains

On my Sgt. Pepper tshirt

Suddenly I was sad 


Fall from disgrace

My rabbit hole

had no end 

It was only the music

and wine 

that could save me

I waited to fall

from disgrace


felt like a lonely  death 

the last breath

of a dream

The power he said I had

held no comfort 

Stolen  memories 

The whiskey burned

like the hole left over

from a stolen memory

I plotted many murders

but no blood ever splashed upon my hands

I wrote love poems

but never learned

to love 

The wine was never enough

None of it

was ever enough

in the very end

Life kills

far too slow


And far too swiftly

other times

Dirty penny

This world wants to destroy

pieces of me

they say were never no good

All the things that matter to me,

are useless things

Or so I’ve been told

I bought a soul for a dirty penny

and a dire thought

I warned you with a snake-lipped-hiss

nothing good can come of this

I don’t believe in happy endings

(although everything must end)

I bit myself over and over again

and decided I didn’t like the taste

of my own meat

too bland, too cold

too something

So go ahead and send me a wink

and spit shine my dirty penny

The soul was always mine for the taking

and it’s the one good thing

I’m keeping.

I miss those days

Life is short

but this road ahead of me seems long

Outside the chaos never stops

like hale beating at an old chained up dog

I think I know more about hate now

than I do love

More about fear

than I do comfort

There were days when you would just stab your enemy in the neck

and be done with it. 

I miss those days. 

counting ghosts

I knew winter once

everything bloomed in shades of gray

And your cold cold heart

would keep me warm through long nights

of gloom

So I was warned about you

It made me want you more

This is my bane

plain and simple

Though I’ve complicated everything

This was my way

Now I lay awake

counting ghosts

and seeing your face formed in mist

even now

from so far away

your stare makes me nervous. 

Nowhere near Nirvana

The wheels turn

but we go nowhere

Spin, spin spin circles shugah

the hamster wipes the bloody spunk off of his face

Keep running, you’re nowhere near


She could be the death of me

but you can’t kill

what’s already dead

He said it with a cigarette bouncing between his teeth

a needle-prick muse,

a noose around his neck

Tongue these open sores

they taste like  popped cherries

when you’ve still got some good tunes up your sleeve

Sadly they’ll bury you before your blues will every play

on the radio

The white trash angel in black eyeliner

will stretch her bleached anorexic wings and shout

Hide the shotgun

save the American icon

But it was already too late.