soluable.

art is pain
hard form grace
why suffer
hear the bold
how we try

they could perform
by modeling some beer soon
at an old studio neo-dazzle
but instead

come as harmony
no stroke - full balance
experiment wildly
know death drunk
have water always, she said
dead weld - angry, dry

captured for paint only
feel day more, she said
hear then scream madly
investigate a piecing, mounted approach
to surreal aesthetic junk

must they be
so above color
whose metaphor is it anyway?
though rhythm like angels
gives this monument glorious waste

ask to see & almost imagine
let her draw young absurd ink
write passion from dust

about our impression
my soft empty shard smoke
his live electric paint was my masterpiece
smeared the scale
sculpture icon
i ate him.

did i make glass break?
appearing has demand
never see a latex film
& create drug fashion
think free

when every black raw psychedelic joy
chisels us blue
white picture too
you were best nude
composing sex canvas
throwing fiery, metal silhouette
through miasma
and rigid purple subject

fathers day is crap.

i don't need
the uneasy feeling
that comes with knowing
i don't have someone to call today

i don't need
to think of your smile
or your laughter
to look at you adoringly
as we celebrate your role in my life


i don't need
someone to call "daddy"
to instill the never ending
un-reality
that you are supposed to be the god
of my world

i don't need
to be sentimental
about someone
who chose death and uncertainty
over life and responsibility.

i don't need
to be wasting my time
thinking about that empty hole
you left in my chest.

i don't need
to be reminded
that today is the day
other children are celebrating
having someone in their life
who does the job
you quit when you put that rope around your neck.

yes, today i am angry, today makes me wish there was a hell for you to rot in.
(photos taken from www.postsecret.com)