For Everything that Once Seemed Important

I remember when I spent all night
worrying over you as if that favor
would ever be returned; may it be
forgotten like everything else.
I remember when I would get angry
over the girls who like money
you would spend their hearts and
leave them like you left me; may they
be forgotten like I have been.
I remember how you sat so still
the night he was born as I cried
for the months you were gone, for
the wreck of my life, for the
thousand hurts that he would bare;
may they be forgotten, each useless
tear shed and never comforted by you.
I remember how you said you loved me
and wonder if love means anything
at all except fairy tales to make
otherwise sane women waltz down the
aisle with men who do not deserve them;
may she forget too when you find
that everything that once seemed
important is not and she is left
like the rest of us, to wonder
wish upon a star why she still loves you.

The Lesson of the Silver Chair

Bones are fragile and they break
hearts are limited in what they take
but your eyes will always remind me
that once you took me and I was left
to wait until the spiral jetty of the
winsom world would send you to my
doorstep hauntingly to sing
come love
come love
forget your life and come with me.
Little bird with broken wings a solitary
but uncaged thing why did your faith
forget me or was it simply that I am
not the Empress for your nightengale hand?

Letters for Simple Moments

What would I say to you that would
give you pause; a moment to suffer
for only me. In the end I think
you stopped suffering long ago
over anything. What good are tears?
You speak of stars and I tell you
I have seen them like dust scattered
on a cold night in North Carolina.
Had I known then that you loved them
I would have carried them from the
moutain to give to you later when
we lay in a dark room wishing for light.
Words are unstable and mean nothing
but we deal in them like tarot cards
predicting futures or writing pasts.
I still miss you.

Sedition

Raise your plow shares ye farmers
and give me faith that I will not
die here in this town of nothing
an nothing more alone and desperate
for cacophony. Alone and desperate
for the Clash, the Ramones, the
Sex Pistols and the raiment of the
heavenly Punk Angels. Take off your
mild mannered and unassuming ways
and trade them for tattoos and piercings;
give me hope that we will not sleep
for years in this skin, this cocoon
of restaurants and shopping malls where
no one feels anything except what
the reality shows tell them to.
I burn inside and I cry out to the wilderness
for a prophet, a martyr, someone who will
show them all that the heartbeat of the
world is fading
fading
fast.
The time has come for revolution; gather
your pitchforks, your quiet manners and
rise up from this safe prison to free
what is left of your human soul!

Thank You For Your Unkindness

Thank you for your unkindness,
so unexpected after all.
I did not know that my heart
still beating could be eaten
with a spoon, my liver on the
side in a bed of jade green
jealousy; a glass of sanguine
hate to drink. No really,
you did not have to go through
all the trouble to make me
feel unwanted, unloved, awkward
and most of all unwelcome.
I appreciate the special touch,
my own words on the plate to
eat with a bit of blackened crow.
Dessert? No, no! Do not trouble
yourself so for me. This bitter
sweet taste of you is enough
to last me through the long drive
home, your sarcasm to warm me.
Yes! Oh, my yes! We should do
this again when the next season
brings paper Valentines to flay
flesh and pour salt in. It will
be, as always, remarkable to see you.

Yours,

Devil Darling