May
14
2013
how does black feel
white?
her eyes half open, wanting
waiting for an excuse, an opportunity
to say
yes
without words
open mouthed
breathing in
afraid with anticipated joy
one kiss curls fingers
shoots them straight with electricity
as
breathless
she imbibes
deeply
head swirling
flames marching between her thighs
ground shaking
heart thumping
dreams spilling
out into the open
eyes terrified
desperate to cling to
this terrible satisfaction
this fire water
quenching her
thirst
no comments | tags: eric nunnally, fire water, thirst
Feb
23
2013
The weather outside, a cold plastic bag
Suffocating, biting with the sand of broken glass
Needling the thin skin of my insulating barricade
Against the drill of a persistent shower of mind numbing pain
Angry, frigid bones are my ghost story
Blanket layer after layer disappears into nothing
Random sounds of settling mark each second, each hour
As death sits in the corner like a piece of decor
Silence is a wound bled out, still life
Furrowed brow the lock that keeps what’s left in reserve
I hold my breath on the chance I may need to speak at the end
Though there is no one who would hear me, no one, anywhere
Time an open window in the house of the dead
I’m a violent rock sitting in the middle of the room
People whisper and ignore me but none dare pick me up
Lest they cut themselves and prove my pain, the stain of their guilt
Love is a penny driven into the street
An ornamental value, lost and left, never spent
Pitied in its purpose unfulfilled, it’s a sign
That love is often wasted when it’s cheaply defined
Gluttony’s heartburn has my soul tied in knots
Dying, trying to fill the emptiness eating rocks
Tomorrow’s hope is heaven but tonight is my hell
And I dream to find some refuge from this madness I feel
My body decomposes as my life crowds my mind
And one day the sun will rise and won’t see me anymore
And one day there won’t be a rock in the midst of the floor
And one day my whole life story will blow on out through the door
no comments | tags: Mortal thoughts
Feb
18
2013
how do we get from here to there
if we are making the best of where we are
learning to enjoy the status quo
unable to pass on the fire of the dream within us
to our children who see us
and wonder with innocent eyes
if they will one day be like us…
how do we murder this contentment
and send our children fleeing from this hunting comfort
they have learned to be at ease with
have learned to call home
we will be mad men, butchers of peace
chaos bringers and drama kings
who cannot settle
for whom nothing is good enough
frightening our children into their old age
only at the last will the blossom of understanding bud
but will it be too late
and what of their branches
will they bear fruit
am I doomed to quiet myself in a world
that demands I be a killer or a slave
swallow my hatred or surrender my love
how will I know myself again?
no comments | tags: How Will I Know Myself Again?
Feb
14
2013
thoughts quietly exhaled
are hunted for their subtleties
by masquerading eyes
and sober heart
while tendrils of embryotic dreams
brush against my sensitivities
without conscience
naive and unaware
but let me rise to the warmth of your breath
intrude upon your smile and
slip beneath your comfort
surprising you with a heartbeat
and you will see me
feel the root tugged at
and tempted, resist, alive
flared open
long enough for my seed to infiltrate that
semi-conscious state
where butterflies are born
like thoughts of love and
possibilities
fondled by curiosity
just before sleep
no comments | tags: Red Want, Valentine's Day
Jan
15
2013
Never a baby adored
but some unwanted child
abandoned to its self
writhing in the turmoil of emotions
screaming raw their pleading
to a world disinterested and unkind
until its scarred throat hardened
and crying became barking
piercing the sleep of men
who would kill it to silence it
and death met them
arrogant for attention
and gave back their perverted affection
as an artificial son
burning them all.
no comments | tags: artificial son, baby adored, brilliant, burning them all, crying became barking, death, death met them, unwanted child
Dec
3
2012
Fuck. Spoken right upon her lips
Soft smooth betrayal, sticky like honey
Guilty fingers trembling with want
Road kill
Meat turned out and stinking
Mouth full of chewing
Hungry to be full
A shameless madness, drenched in blood
Stillness comes breathless and
Moonshined
Head spinning with guts spilled on the sheets
Tied between legs and thighs and
Sweating eyes
Breathing heart, quiet beneath sobering silence
Eyes wide open in the darkness
Death shushing us
no comments | tags: Craps
Dec
3
2012
Winter way home, tired
Sidewalk breath prays
Candle’s fire, wine, and skin
Yellow bedroom lights
Tiger moth eyes
Empty walls
Barefeet, wooden floor
And a stanky bluesy music haunting
Hunting that lonely place within me
With a terrible lie of what might taste like possible
Got me wringing my hat in my hand
Begging for a silhouette at the curtain’
To tell me now’s a good time
To believe
To will reality into opening the door
Find my place in her space
on the couch
pretending hard enough
To make myself at home
Nothing worse than the jitters to spoil
A warm smile
A wanting hand
A flicked switch
And a complaining mattress
no comments | tags: Blues for wanting