As you b

you're so clever
you're the cleaver
and I'm the meat

as you beat
as you bea
as you be
as you b

you'll recover
you'll cover
you'll take my creat

as you best
as you bes
as you be
as you b

you'll steal
you'll kill
I become like the wind

as you bend
as you ben
as you be
as you b

To Patrick

I look at him
and I want to shoot myself
be run over by semis
cut into a million different pieces
gouge my eyeballs
slit my wrists

instead I’m here
burning the midnight oil
putting my hand in the fire
and watching it turn to sulfer

His cheekbones
cut the wood
of my cedar heart
and splinter my locked chambers
I’ve given up
this is my surrender

I’m here
after spilling the midnight oil
over what I was
and who I’ll be

for you’re kissing him
he’s taken you in
you’re younger
you’re dumber
one day you’ll split

Latifundia

I cannot do this anymore
we cannot survive alone
caught in the persist
against love’s resist
I’m torn asunder
by today’s modern wonders
of men, called gladiators
but these battles are feeble
old times call to me
stricken misery
marveled in marble fantasy
I fall back
into my cave
trying to escape
latifundia

Brick Roads

I'm not worthy of a love
that spaces the beats
I've been taught to think
I'm not allowed
to return to empty space
just leave your money
on the end stand
leave your love at the door
I've been broken
on brick roads
shallow pot holes
that have been used
by pirates
on the seven seas
feigning
seven wonders
someone save me

New Heart

From degage
to new heart
my being slips through
old saloon doors
with my spurs making
marks in the floor
I spent too much time
at the marbled station
wandering from
midnight places,
my followers fled

a new heart
in an old body
making my way through
pristine lobbies
tumbleweed blown
through the sand
I pray to the piano
but my saddle up
to the whores
with copper hearts
with silver bullets
and the old west
became undone

Family Plots

Looking back upon the plains
of the corn husk
and the grains
there we were
before the storm
sans Christianity

Though our hearts
made us lost
we forbid
a family plot
for imagination

She stopped
sanding the fence
he stopped going
to the sea
I stopped
remembering
who I used to be

Baby Bird

Baby bird
swinging from the trees
but baby bird
has flown
from ecstasy

Mother hen
has landed
to coddle
the infant
of a world
not meant
for me

For the infant
cannot make
a nest
infant
can't feed
unless
someone forces
food down
my beak

Honey

this bees in it
stuck in honey suckle
surrounded by
harmonies of buzz
but our strongest point
is our final key
melody
through a whistle
by grass
these things won’t last
except in a bump
on the ones
that cannot perceive
that final note
was more about
the single bee

Pronouns

You’re given birth
You’ve created worlds
You’re constantly alone
You’re always somber

We’re both fucked up
We’re both impossible
We’re both unaware
We’re oblivious to each other

I kept myself locked
I lost illusions
I have saved myself
I think there are no conclusions

We’re here for each other
We’re separated
We’ve done nothing
We’ve never met one another

You’ve looked around all town
We’ve both been feeling down
I keep hoping
We’ll be there

Afford Emotion

It's been minutes
hours
days
weeks
months
years

There has been strain
restraint
complains
mistakes

through inaction
pertains
to those who cannot afford emotion
a new romantic has spoken
beer and wine
friends leave vodka
for they know too well
August first
brings tears if tears could come
what is the joke
and what is real
because pretending has become
so real

We are all Winners

He waves a white checked flag
like the game has been marked
scores have been settled
lived revoked
but even the winner gets butchered
just not right away
become the pale
glue that
darkness ensues
forgive for obvious
reactions
winners expect something besides
bitter blades
of creation

Smells Never Come Back

I cannot recall how you smell
a part of myself must have died
trying to recover
from wounds upon high
but in the tunnels
of underwhelmed wonders
sits someone
I cannot ponder
since recall
flounders
pieces of troubled
surrounded in puddles
forgetting how he smelled
is becoming trivial
because that will never come back
socks in my hats
and joy in low levels
make your joy
forget what is expected
wipe out the rest
of the entire planet
in your mind
a criminal
a saint
but everything
is really just
paper machete

Lemon James and the Kobold Vermin (Rough)

There are certain milestones people are supposed to pass. Going to prom, that first kiss, and that dream wedding that you always wished for. As generations pass, milestones of our lives pass as well. We no longer have anywhere near the touchstones that the previous generation had. So after realizing that the ideals of what should be wouldn't typically happen to me; I threw myself towards one of my generation's expected behavior; joining World of Warcraft.

Through certain circumstances, it seemed like the logical idea. My television for the most part was broke, and I needed something to do until it could be fixed. This isn't my first time playing a Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game, but it certainly is the longest I have ever played one. In my first night, I spent almost five hours downloading patches for a game on a disc. Why have this disc, if the disc isn't up to date at all?

With the clock to turn about midnight, I started my adventure as my heroine; Lemon James. Considering the Massively Mutliplayer of this game's nature, it's amazing how little character creation there is. It reminds me of High School Senior pictures, men is black or navy suits, and women in black scoop necks. Yes, the hair might be slightly different. There might even be a few people that can get away without a fake smile that everyone will remember them for when looking back. Eventually looking back in the year book or in World of Warcraft, everyone eventually looks the same.

Lemon James was not the sassy female character I hoped for. The goal I figured of one of these games is that you create a character and the time you spent creating the character made you want to spend time in the universe. There were very little options visually to pick from. Human women having only one body size and shape did end work for me; birthing hips.

Verbal Abuse

jealous
jealousy
wannabes
feel me
but I am less
then myself
make me forget
make me allow
to break my cardinal sin
talk over me
verbal abuse
me talking over
I
for I have a wife
with weathered
wisps
I
have a withered
grandmother
and
mother
and customers
who persist
and tickled tongues
of verbal abuse
of societies use
though here am
I
persistant through time
wondering my crime
to make constant of shame
of no one else
having the shame
of
truth of heart
passion crimes

Psycho-paths

white wash
little white lies
they say he will
rise again
but so many live in
perceived sin
bruised and broken
hell and soaked in
blood and pus
so many die
while others are made abundant
so here we are
broken
why hasn't our savior come
when everything is grey
except maybe to say
that we're just energy
spun out of controlled
psycho-paths

BDSM

BDSM
Sodomite me
my heart's not in it
my body gets softer
by the minute
force the actions
other's enjoy
for life is nothing to me
since sans logic

BDSM
tie me down
in leather
and chains
my mind's miles away
my hand feels such shame
for touch feels
emotionless
today

BDSM
gag my mouth
and chain
me up
I've cut off
all the stuff
that would make me want to
make
love

"Over and Over" by Chris Garneau

not my fault
you said so oh
you said it over and over
it's not my fault
you said so oh
you said it over and over
now I'm in this thing
this fucking thing
I'm stuck over and over
yeah I'm in this thing
this fucking thing
it's happening over and over
and you give me things
they make me sad
you give them over and over
I can't feel the days
but I like to say
remember the days when we used to
but I don't feel them over and over
It's not my fault
you said so oh
you said it over and over
it's not my fault
you said so you
you said it over and over
Now I'm in this thing
this fucking thing
it's happening over and over
Yeah I'm in this thing
this fucking thing
I'm stuck over and over
when you give me things
they make me sad
you give them over and over
And I can feel the days
but I like to say
remember the days
when we used to
but I don't feel them over and over
we're rockers anyways
just skin and bones
good hair
good clothes
and that's how it goes
we've got sweet little toes
and it's all all all all all
up to me now
there's a lot of work work work work
to do
and it's all all all all all
up to me now
leave me be be be be be
I am through

Compass

I get older
Compass
as I realize
I love you
more then
any boy
in my world
but it is not the metal
nor the glass
and sometimes
i don't want to follow
pages
pages pass portions
maybe before
i was a hand
for a second
but in this second
maybe third
experiences
only matter through
filtered gold
glass shines
horrible
worth
worthlessness
for your my
guide
my religion
useless without
my compass
dare I speak your name
for no one can understand
but I listen
and it makes me hear
I am here
before I would be taken
maybe crimes against humanity
are just pawns
for directionless
patients

Take Back

Take backs
Make outs
I owe you's
I love you's
backs take
years off
on smokes
used hole
take me back
from sinking
emotional poverty
inside
space oddity
backs take
sun from the moon
stars from the night
me from I

Learn

Maybe I should forget
close birthdays
someone putting on my socks
sick next to others
empty bottles

Some
Never
Learn

I do not need reminders of
shopping for mothers
whining stories
freckled back
faded sun

Some
Never
Learn

Until it is too late
to lose pieces
of a heart
now in cellophane

Never

I never have to see you again
or check my phone for text
while at work
or have to write
another sad poem
about the sour swell

I never have to be used
by a ex crackhead
for a feel
or a cash deposit
for attention
is all your ever wanted

I never will come back
I never will forget this
I never will alarm
for sinful trysts

Some

Some people fall in love
while I control the weather
sneaky snowy snowflakes
disappear into
furry white whether
weather

Some men fall for love
while they control the seasons
a perchant for
flips, flops, and fails
when their mind's
mine

Some will open the door
when the wind blows
like a whore
though some will sit
knitting their Id
as it screams
for more

Clear Conclusions

I place
placeholders
for emotions
lost in past
presents
who am I?
lost and forbidden?
lost and forbidden.
saints not knowing
names and places
I place
years in instead
of names
logic
instead of shame
I never realized sooner
I figure it's best to
forbide
clear conclusions
because repeating
might sink
best intentions
because these are
the worst situations
forget
forgive
forbide
forsaken
I have taken
the Joker of Spades
the Jack of Trades

Seconds

Take a piece of me
when you walk out of the door
I'll take the remants of
summertime

Second time
Second year
Second chances
Missing Seconds

Take the peace of me
you wanted
then I'll walk away
wanting

Second wasted
Second year
Second first
Missing Seconds

Seeing in the Dark

Until recently, I've been quite an optimistic person. Knowing that everyone is not perfect, I let people that have get away with more then I should have without much fuss. There really was no point in calling people out on their behavior or decisions, except in the hopes that they would want to change them. At that point, it's not best to say their faults unless they ask. It would take so much time, and it's ruder then I would like to be.

As I have gotten older, my patience towards people that have done me wrong has wanned. Time has provided me the ability to cut off people I should know better then to hang out with. Chance has provided me the ideal model to let go of my unwarranted optimism by my professor in cynicism; Sophia Lamar.

Sophia Lamar used to be on my favorite podcast, in a section called; "What Sophia Lamar hates." Which is exactly what it sounds like, each week she would come on and say something that week that she hates. Now, for years I thought her part was funny but sort of pointless except to have her on it. It was a year ago when she was complaining about a certain group of people, and provided wisdom to unhinge the doors of my rose tinted glasses. She was calling out people that were fake, and went on a tiny rant about how people should be who they are and not copy what others want or who others are. Forget all those other people, they are shitty or crummy; and why would you want to adknowledge their existance.

As someone who at least values their uniqueness; it has hard to find people that are unique in factors that are the same. So judging people offhand is awful to do, because there would be very little people that I could converse with. Letting people get away with social context murder. After an awful year, I have seemed to wittle at my optimism and allowed to call a deuce a deuce. Leaving me in the middle of the night, without a light; but seeing in the dark, is seeing nothing at all.

Rubberbands and Paperclips

Held together by rubberbands and paperclips
streamlined and destined for
hands and thoughts
of one
of trillions
bottled with cork
alone
with these hands
driven insane
by thoughts

Absent History

Everyone says the main reason behind taking History classes, is so we don't repeat the past. In reality, it teaches two points.

Life isn't far, if you take a Sociology class you will learn this as well in spades. Don't believe the lie, that all men are created equal. We are all products of the nature of our parents, which thrusts us into the nuture that they're nature has created. It's sort of a hive complex, because we are hardwired to more likely think a certain way, and with the basis of the nuture by our parent's culture to share the same groups of people. The best defense against this case is our own groups, which are based upon nature and rebellion that is based on the nuture of the nature.

Secondly it provides those that are okay with abusing the system to have a clearer view of how to do so. Slavery ended almost 150 years ago, and equal rights were granted until around 100 years later. Oposition towards African Americans and anyone that is remotely different is still the same as it has ever been. There weren't any lessons learned from the Civil War except that if you try to separate from the government; it will take you down. Look at big business, while many people currently are learning about Business in the Gilded Age from 1870 to 1900. While somethings have changed, the larger issue is still at hand. Big business is allowed to get away with too much, only at the hands of middle to low class citizens.

Throughout the lessens of History, it seems that for the large part that people are not created equal, and those that tend to fair better for themselves care little about those who have had no control over their caste. We are products of our families and our communities, there is nothing special about who we are except what that creates. Life like a roll of a dice, crap shoot.

One Hand

We all tend to stay up late
with one hand under the pillow
usually on a side
with thoughts on the perimeter
maybe you read
or maybe you write
words never written
by candlelight
for we live in different times
and eons have past
decades welcoming
towards decimation
so what do you think
while you try to sleep
mistakes
joy
pain
or the one who was never there
to even betray

Sunday Afternoon

As I drop off my newest friend at the train station today, there was no place for me to park so I parked behind the gay bar nearby. Somehow at a quarter before five, I see a friend’s car in the parking lot and instantly see him outside. I see my friend get on the train, and decide that I must go into the bar to briefly talk to my friend that was already there.

It’s sad that at this point, I feel that our friendship is waning. In a large part, I feel most of my friendships are waning though. Preconceived notions are all around me. Everyone has someone out there for them. If not, you should just have random sex. Everyone has a bigger purpose, a role to fill. Fake it until you make it, unaware you’ve lived most of your life a lie. Is that all that life is about?

So my friendships wane because I can’t be in that spot in my life, and I think it with no bitter or sweetness. Life has no meaning except for what you make out of it. To me I find after all the relationships I’ve had I need to take a difference point of view on the ones I have and want to have, specifically the one with myself. Sex now provides me nothing but fear. Sex is not sexy, but a merging of two souls is a moment of gold.

I choose not to go to gay bars because, I don’t need to live my life in a moment of “he’s the one,” or “he’s the one for right now.” Along with the notions, “Party Hard,” and “Keep on Drinking.” So when I hear my friend tell me he’s ok with having sex for the first time without cumming, I think “That was a problem?” Out of everything in your life, sex is just about that? Why am I here on this planet to hear such “dire” issues? Why are you here on a Sunday afternoon, drinking away your loneliness caused by a personal dry season? I’ve had many a dry season, and I’m not talking prohibition or penis leakage. Call me a fool, but I’m sick of growing mold.

Giovanni

There is this knack I have for forgiving people for their behavior. If the past is any reward, it's that I shouldn't. Trying to be optimistic about it, I figure it's a sign that they aren't bad people, but that I shouldn't be around them. Sometimes I can just keep hoping for them to realize their mistakes or mishaps.

When I lived in Chicago I had my second job interview at a large retail chain. Supposedly according to the Manager, he knew I was going to be hired when he first saw me. I will always think that he knew he was going to hire me when he asked for my resume and references and saw that they were in a binder with Sex and the City on the cover. We instantly had something in common, conversation was granted at the pass of something I really should have known better then to have had my paperwork in. So much that at the interview I didn't do the typical handshake, I did a hug; my judgment on this interview was lapsed.

In less then a week I started working, and the Manager in the sense of title was a let down. He hardly was there, and when he was there he really didn't do much. For some reason, I wasn't a factor to me; and I ended up seeing him outside of work more then I did at work. Offhand he wouldn't seem like someone I would want to hang out with. He had this habit of saying some some negative things about people maybe as a joke; but they came with some truth. Specifically one time he was complaining about one co-worker, and then at the meeting pointed out her work and gave her a necklace.

When I eventually moved away from Chicago, he was the person I remained in contact with for the longest. Which was quite unexpected, because while we enjoyed each other's company; he did sometimes get on my nerves.

One morning in July 2009 before I went to work I was checking my facebook, and decided to look at his profile randomly to find out he had died about a week beforehand. Looking back I see how forgiving him of his behavior worked well for me, it just hasn't worked very well since.

Remainless

The humor is not lost
nor the tears
this build up has
taken forever
just about a year
pieceemealed
concealed
wrapped up
with a bow
for a birthday
anniversary
christmas
valentines
once more
the humor
brings smiles
with a small frown
for two things
are remainless

"That Guy"

There are moments in which songs instantly come to me, when they before made no sense. For the last year I had been dealing with what seemed like a constant back and forth with Chris; at least in my own mind. It was obvious how I felt to this point, and it seemed to me it was obvious how he felt. Chris’ birthday was two days before my own, and at this point we didn’t talk to each other for a couple of months. Not so much that we had something go wrong between us, but the last time we talked he made mention of in a couple of months he was going to be done with his first year in AA, and he wanted to talk then about seeing each other. Maybe it was foolish of me, but I figured that I didn’t want to pressure him to feel one way or another. So I messaged him on his birthday in the morning telling him happy birthday, and right before I got off work I got a message asking me to see him.

Right after work I drove through the worst rainstorm I had ever been in, which should have been a sign; but nothing was going to stop me from seeing him. So we went to dinner with his friends, and they came over and then they all left and I was going to leave but he made it seem like he wanted me there and to take off work the next day to hang out. So I did, still in my mind thinking that something was going in a month once he was done with his first year in AA. After that he made it very clearly that he wasn’t interested in dating me after his first year, he physically at least was off limits. In the morning I woke up, about an hour or two before he did; like all the times we did when we shared a bed. After a couple of minutes I went on his porch to smoke a cigarette. Allowing me for the first time to understand and enjoy Tori Amos’ “That Guy,” without even having to listen to it; it came to me. Magically I felt what she was feeling in that song.

After he woke up we had lunch, and went to the same mall we went to several times before; and he said he wanted to get me something for my birthday. My response was what was true, that I got what I wanted for my birthday; to spend it with him. Ever so determined still not knowing my truth, I said I wanted his hoodie that was Green, Blue and Yellow. The same hoodie I would wear when I would stay with him, because it was bright and felt like it belonged to me. In the end I guess it did belong to me, while he did not. Once I drove him back, I stood for a couple of hours; and he fell asleep and I enjoyed the last moments of my birthday, and my last moments with him. Now every time I wear the hoodie, I think of him. Every time I smoke a cigarette I do. Every time I hear “That Guy,” I think of him, and try to stop thinking of him at every chance he pops up.