Thursday, August 13, 2009

The Exorcist (1)

Upon seeing you; sadness, anger and pain --
those rabid animals that live in my brain, untamed in flimsy cages
growl with demented passion, excited and agitated.
They are frantic with a hunger to rush to your body,
to feed on your blood and live forever.

How much of others’ miseries have you bolted inside you?
How much more till your strength finally deserts you?

Friday, September 12, 2008


So far I’ve been loved, in spite of who I am;
Undeserving of grace, I’ve had charity love thereof.
But you are strange. You love me for who I am?
My suspicious mind poisons your precious love.

Thursday, June 05, 2008


In the Lord’s name
and (since the Lord is far away from me)
in the self help pages where I seek meaning,
where it talks about surviving emotional crisis;
I can see only your name
pop out from the pages.

You stalk me without stalking.
I have created the stalker-you
whom I cannot kill, who won’t let me live.
What worse than a stalker
who is also
the object of one’s affection?

It’s getting tiresome now
to talk only about
your name
and to see only
your name
blending with my sole refuge.

I wonder why at all times
a few letters float to the top of any page
to rearrange themselves
in that familiar pattern.
I cannot manacle this madness
that lives behind my irises.

If I gouge my eyes out
will you stop
will it stop
coming to me?
When you stop
when it stops,
will I still live (or want to)
in darkness?

Thursday, May 29, 2008


Sometimes my shoulders ache
from the sheer effort
of guarding each precious drop
in my cupped hands.

Drink from me, you shall not thirst again.

Thursday, May 22, 2008


“I’m a simple guy”, he claims.
What he means is,
my madness delights and scares
him in equal measures.

Thursday, May 15, 2008


What do you see between my words?

Observe how the ink smudges with anguish.
Letters of his name, on which yearning twines around.

Or can you see beyond that? Can you see Rage?

Wednesday, May 14, 2008


We started off normally enough, Cato the pet
played his role to perfection, he had even let
me pet him, made me feel all masterly and lordly
I was pleased with this arrangement – what a folly!
For soon, things changed, I became the pet, he the master
I was charmed - I couldn’t, if I tried, grow any fonder.

Into my soiled bachelor pad, some order
was wrought from fashionable disorder.
Cato was finicky and manically clean
He dined in style. Red meat, yes please, but only lean.
Chop it up with chicken liver and red cabbage
Sparkling water in Cato’s Bowl, for beverage.


I’m finally done
shoveling truckloads
into the gluttonous woman’s wide open mouth.
She's still hungry. She’s always hungry.
I don’t care anymore.

She will have to eat her own flesh.
And discover
that she wasn’t really hungry after all.