The worst game ever played
I am restlessly pulling at my last beer And I blame it on the other drugs. So I’m playing a poor, young white man’s tug of war Between his vices. And sleep is sitting court side Without a voice, palm to face And losing any bet she’d put her money on. I’d place my hand on her shoulder, if I could “Better luck next time, my dear.” But there’s no...
Jesus is a candle that sits on my book shelf. I bought him for a dollar. I’m not sure he would approve After all, the dude’s been known to lose his shit in Marketplaces. I’d forgive him for it, though These are the things you learn From a wick And some wax.
There’s an angel asleep in bed And she clutches your hand to her breast, Like it might be the last one she wants to feel before she drifts away Outside of the bathroom window the birds are chirping Talking a call and response A cigarette’s smoke dancing in and out of the screen And one more beer won’t hurt(?) As the traffic plays the softer sounds To the trains that...
A thousand birds pouring their voices Across the city, as the light gathers itself up Into the start of a new day The proudest moments of a voice that shines Before exhaust sets itself Into another day.
I’m not sure when it is Ok for me to ask to steal your kiss. 3 nights now, I’ve asked you for it And the drink, has helped to loosen our already Loosened lips Should I wait and when? Is it right to us, (I conflict, it always should be!) To make that magnificent error in judgement? (And how do you judge a thing, Settled in such a long awaited feeling?) When does it become...
How romantic I seem to be, Self-satisfied, Sitting barside, Milking a beer, reading another man’s poetry Sleeves rolled up at the seams The wave in my hair, a sideways smile to myself And a chuckle at how clever my life looks With the sun dipping slow down the sky And in all reality, I am staring at my bartender’s ass And thinking about how dirty my empty bed is.
mychesterfieldking: It is strange to me That the option of delete sits Quite daintily above My return key And I’m still not quite sure Which speaks more to me.
You must feel yourself a lucky girl To have been born with eyes like that, Little bright ones that catch a shine in Any light, and even on occasions In the dark I wonder, when left alone too long Do you fall into them yourself, And imagine why it is so easy To pull the world from your pocket?