I see thru God's eyes & God sees thru mines
the longer you go the more the path narrows
the hunger for gold in others hearts
has left me with... with but one wing
the pirouette did not corkscrew me into the ground
my sins gave me wings & the jete gave me a sense of flight
no bird ever shit on me, though they want to
you see I owned the world because of my mother beauty
but now the Master of Puppets (who says he doesn't exist)
has forsook this clown
shocked was I when I peered into the mirror
& saw a young man
I stood there in amazement for
about as long as it took to destroy that image
a moment of ecstasy, which tore from my shoulder
the blade, my wing.

There are rainbows on other planets
maybe a unicorn
but on this planet I am the horned
one eyed monster
but I don't feel bad
God understands the game which has made me who I am
so even if I am not right I am still righteous
for it all makes sense
I cannot fear the unknown
no one has ever come back from there
God's judgement will come
no doubt
mind swiped living on other planet
reincarnated to be reborn
it is as if we live life to make these mistakes again
for they make us men
without the cross I would not spare my life
to save a woman
I would not know how
without the wisdom of my folly
I am numb from numbers
and letters no longer arrive
fuck the matrix
here comes Saint Patrix.

They matricized to protect the women
but it was done by men
no woman can be a Messiah
for they call them Messenger
the bringer and bearer of bad news
you see us men we make a mess
the carrier wave of sound that
twists and contorts the very wind we breathe
like a bag of potato chips tells you to fuck off, already.

There is fascination in life
& beauty in strange things
a computer algorithm has taken over the air waves
as we dance alone
the DJ robot loses track of the tracks
as if it was somebody's favorite song
requested twice
these machines they become smarter than us
our blue faces, blurred vision
& internet addiction
I no longer care to satisfy a woman
because that takes effort
& I have run out of fingers to fully satisfy
do not kneel before me
because I want to plant a kiss
like the first flower I would bring you
to show you it was not love at first sight
but an overture, not an act
for in my delirium, this stupor
my masochistic pleasure center
no longer required any female words
to tickle the anvil, the cochlea, the stapes
to bang your drum & tickle hair in your ear
those tresses, the locks like hay of a cave girl
for another woman's voice still possessed my mind
I would not bring her flowers, cut, for they are dead
but for you I would get down on my knee and pluck
just one from the ground
when I saw the flower I did not know
it was meant for you
the Geese had rung in the Spring perennial

These poems are a nasty thing
I cannot show you this poem for I am gray
and my gaiety is false
I am twice your age exactly
I don't know what color your eyes are
but without looking
I am sure they are grey
I came to bitch and moan 'bout life
but since it is over
my fashion intervention is for me to shower
trim my 'stache 'cause something for you is swollen
put on a fine shirt that has grown rust & dust
silence is golden but my tongue is platinum
I bounce off brick face fanfare for you
so someone else can drag you away from here
maybe they too will wonder what panties you wear?
And instead out of all the bad intentions shouldered
a great weight has lessened for when I see you next
St Patricks Day I don't care if I live one day more
just to see you again.

These fears, these phobias, these sleepless nights
my mania, my mind running til' noon, all night
the delusions have led my to grandeur
there are so many people that want me around
but they can't say it
and no one will tell you they love you either
now I have to smoke to take me away from you
because good is a bad thing when there is too much good
and I am too good for this neighborhood
when people take compliments as insults
I grow weary of being misunderstood.

That flower this poem, my black heart
has turned your milk to black too
for the next messenger will be black
I would have loved to revolve just outside your womb
and drop off like a stork, a girl and a bag of potato chips
for you are all that
for more of you should be made
to rule the future world someday
I would die to bring you this child
but her babble would drive me insane
& either her eyes or mine eye
would be plucked like the wise man
when he knows it all - has to be blinded
so the others won't mind him being around
and the Prophet won't stray.
I will still see through my third eye
thru her eyes, like a child, again.
Washing away my sin
like a raindrop that was windshield wiped away.