Poem – Page 5 – Lady on a Wire

Stuff and Things

tattered pages

in this old room

of memories

written out on

pages you will

never read

on a subway car

going home

thoughts come and go

like faded lipstick stains

though things been

playing in the back of heads

it’s been a stretched path

with raw corners

and dead ends

meet again

with things that are

long gone past

catching time

through the hourglass

the wrong hours

the wrong minutes

the wrong places

missed by seconds

and all that’s

in my head is

why am i here

to begin with

you ask what’s

on my mind

and all i can say

is stuff and things

Iridescent Madness (lady on a wire#10)

(Lady on a Wire and Mike Zone collaboration)

the mind is a weird mechanism
moving into exile
anytime on purpose

a reservoir of secrets
burning alive with
subliminal messages
of rebound history lessons

shaped with shiny flakes of spiderwebs
getting thrown in the wind
but never finds a place to stick
there are no happy accidents
and this world is turning to shit
feeling exposed with dark matter
bubbling up from the center

it’s part of the universe
made from radioactive waste
of distant suns
where orchestrated desires
will only last for so long

space diamond dust
will pepper the fire
with its nuclear waste
metal

no one’s safe from
marching ghosts
raking over coals
from one dimensional space

random thoughts
raw desires
whirlwinds of counterfeit
romances

all tucked away in the
asylum of locked doors
where hollowed out metaphors
walk alone

fuck love
i said fuck love

it’s all going to shit anyway
and all that’s left is our dead eyes
trying to save us all

Deadtown (lady on a wire#5)

(Lady on a Wire and Mike Zone collaboration)

red death illusions
marking territories
with no vacancy signs
rolling up locked and loaded
giving off pistol whipped
confusion

i’m out for the bounty
in this dead town
holding hands with
black velvet shadows
ready for all this
cheap motel dinner theater
chatter

nothing is holy in this vortex
filled with verbs and nouns
hung together suffocating
into nothingness

tumbleweed gestures
lost in the language
of musty old gas stations
ponying up to glory holes
just to feel mildly amused

casting silhouettes at high noon
from words too wild to tame
these words roll them out
on the butcher block
cutting them into magical
delusions

the west will never fall
because desire and prophecy
are one in the same
as you fill up on wandering space
they’ll both be catcalling your name

the time has come
fondle the forefront
and click your heels
because there is
no place like home

The sun hits different

the sun hits different

across the fabric

when you lay next to me

your outline shaped

a watercolor masterpiece

vibrant colors

fondling each other

building its own

bright silhouette

to breathe in the ocean

I’m going to plant a tree

i’m going to

plant a tree

in your name

as it grows

ageless for

a hundred years

no one will realize

how much love

its willing to burn

I wanna wake up

i wanna

wake up

on your

side of

the bed

from a

night of

tangled

sheets

inspired

by glaciers

rough

edges

Safari

the wildlife

in your bones

aches to

be unconfined

looking to

feed on

blood like

sweet nectar

waiting for

the perfect

words to

wander through

the meadow

type

delete

type

backspace

*sips coffee

begging for

something

to jump into

her head

but getting

distracted by

all the coffee rings

she’s leaving

behind

*takes long

deep breath

watching

through

the trees

there seems

to be some

movement

down in the

valley

type

space

type

space

type

adds an exclamation

point

or 2

or 3

getting ready

to pounce

*to be continued…

-From her book, Awkward years