Depression Dance Poems

My love, there was no greater
she held my heart in her hands
her first kiss
the arrow that pierced
if only she could know
I ceased to exist
when she...

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She fluently moves across the floor as silently as dust
Every muscle in her physique is on high alert to respond
Her body is perfectly sculpted from...

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Somedays I want to choke myself to death
To strangle my neck until my face turns blue

To wrap the ends of a nylon string to my...

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From an abandoned sky comes images from on high
tossing away the things that make us sane 
Subliminally casting all away to an abandoned sky

from nothing...

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Despondency is a killer.
I'll take regular old depression any day.
Too much happiness is a killer,
it disables your ability to see clearly
it renders you totally unprepared...

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--Mortality's Dance--


I murmured that cyanide could joust the Jester’s incessant need for the prolonging.

His tortured soul could bite the bullet and find inner peace from...

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Hot the lost lovers rage 
Walk within pantheons of gilded brigades
The passions roar as idolized lost sages
Of some immense meaning 
In supernatural things 
Without rhythms...

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I dine on your ashes
I choke on your hypocrisy  
I sit n tolerate 
This mockery 
This travesty of me
I feel my skin crawl with…...

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A silent figure stands on the edge of a cliff,
the wind is sharp, winter is in its heart.

Its thoughts are lost 
in the sterile Point...

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Of paper and Ink
Warriors of words written in a land
Of Blood and broken toys
Jet black things
Set ice plains and caviar
Standing long into the starry night
Eyes...

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I sometimes reconsider
all our politicians
and economists,

Not as party-line teachers,
or even dogmatic preachers,
instead as future forecasting,
co-infesting deep past
and present listening
with compassioning
co-empathic
therapeutic intent
to laugh and sing.

Who is...

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Sitting here lost in worlds within worlds
Watching things spin
Listening to graveyard voices
Of owls and bats…

On tombstones, I sit!
I see things that should not be.
Things that...

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I sense the onslaught of bitter times
When rain and fog in my future lie,
I shall hear the chapel steeple chimes
And I shall think me near...

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the boulevard is desolate
as is the light that cracks bleeds 
runs here there everywhere! 

trash drafts like ghosts 
in the flicker of dying neon 
something...

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I want to get my feet wet
I want to bury my hands for years
I never meant to see beyond 
I am bound to travel back...

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