"We fit together... like puzzle pieces!"
and so we did; I a piece of brooding sky
and you the sunlit meadow, meeting at the
kiss of the horizon.
Somehow we fit - no matter if we
were standing, laying, dancing,
fucking, kissing... we just
fit together. It just worked
out that way.
Once complete, however, a puzzle
is broken apart and stored away...
Now I'm lost, searching for
the ground that meets my sky,
connecting me to the larger picture
in a sea of misaligned and ill fitting
pieces.
Advice for the Aspiring Poet | Poems that Suck
Don't come to me for advice on how to be a better poet. Have the courage to live your life, then write honestly about it. (Also, learn the mechanics of writing. God damn.)
Pissed | Poems that Suck
There is something unsettling about rehashing our past relationship - all its heartbreaks and mistakes - while you take a piss on a tree . I have a feeling the tree and I share similar sentiments.
You Came | Poems that Suck
The most beautiful
thing I’ve ever seen
was when you came.
Brow furrowed,
cock in hand,
cum pooling in my belly button.
And then you’d
kiss me, like you
found water in the desert.
Sweaty Dreams | Poems that Suck
Never read Bukowski before bed. You'll dream of shitty apartments, empty, rattling wine bottles, and scabby hookers. Then, mid dream, you'll realize you're sweating buckets between your ass cheeks.
Between the Beats | Poetry that Sucks
I don't care if the verses
don't beat, equal in length,
rhyme or have a pattern.
What I care about is that
there's truth in them, that
you can spy my soul hidden
between
the
lines.
A Prayer for the Heart | Poems that Suck
I asked Jesus
to take the pain away
but he said
he could only
heal
corruption.
Love, no matter
how much it hurts
isn't corruption.
So,
I guess I gotta
wait this shit out.
October Maple | Poems that Suck
I never noticed before, but there's a maple tree just outside my window. I can see it as I soak in water that's so hot my skin should melt. Its blood red leaves are nearly gone, limbs bending in the breeze and I wonder what what it must feel like to be stripped bare and have the wind rip through me. I imagine it would slip through the spaces between my ribs, maybe curl its way around my age widened hips, creep in where my eyes would have been, or that space between my teeth that's always sensitive.
A Confessional. | Poems that Suck
Remember that time, about 15 years ago, when we were driving down some Texan backroad? It started with you wriggling against the seat but soon turned into a desperate scratching. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I shouted, "Fucking itching won't go away!" It took some moments, but then I remembered. Two days before, when we were in the shower, I shaved your ass-cheeks while you washed your face. 15 years later, and I'm still laughing.
Devour(ed) | Poems that Suck
I wanted to paint
a picture of your
eyes,
see.
One that captured
all the deep blue
and the light blue
fibers of your
iris.
I wanted to
paint your pupil
huge,
you know,
like a quarter,
or a moon,
or a god-damn Buick.
Swollen, like when
you would whisper
you loved me and I
thought I could tell
you weren't lying.
Engorged, so large
I could see myself
in them and I was a
different
person,
content with the mundane.
Those pupils would
swallow me,
devour me
whole;
flesh,
bones.
Everything.
And then you blinked.
Poems that Suck 