name callin’

~ Ché ~ Leave a comment

just to the left of love
in between lust
and insanity
i lie

as you trace my emotions
with your words you speak soft
and slip sweet everythings
in my ear

enough to drive a girl
to stop drinking
is the intoxication
of the sugar that you spill

i don’t know where to put this in my heart
i’m perforated and easy to pull apart
hungry enough to try and steal
what you so willingly give

satiate my thirst
satisfy the urge
but wait…
don’t

if it gets any better
i may be lost wondering where i left
my poise and reservation

i keep trying to walk away but every time
we part
i come
apart

trying to get around
the places you send me
a rambler on the paradise-despair line

i keep trying to walk away
but your reach is
just long enough and
just strong enough to pull your name
from my chest long and slow
along with whatever good sense
i have left

the beast

~ Ché ~ Leave a comment

oh, what a wicked, nefarious fit
rioting the mind
soliloquy bent on wielding wit
to wage a war on time

a soul as mild as scent on shade
is nearly as aware
apropos and apt to writ
with all who’ll wager fare

softly from her haunches
saunters sweetly, slight askew
all to the nines in nuances
noticed by too few

be wary though, the drive is strong
and lines have yet been drawn
’round the siren shard that slices dawn
with words that don’t belong

for the facets of the whole at helm
are too many to be bound
but the poet – as a separate self
is a madness
walkin’round

Cost of Living

~ Ché ~ Leave a comment

It may not set you back
Enough to really set you back
May force you to fall forward
Into all the things you lack

The strength that you’ve been earning
From faith and sustenance
Is spent on begging Jesus
For a twenty-second chance

The woman on the corner
Out from in between the throes
Spends her spirit running from the shame
Of taking off her clothes

The secret ways you bide your time
Are more expensive than you know
Filling your home with wrath and worry
Leaves less room to grow

The cost of living day to day
Makes it hard for meeting ends
Has us budgeting our love
And borrowing patience from our friends

Then when the stale day starts to sour
And cutbacks bend your brow
You contemplate a tragic means
To escape the here and now

Take life at face value
And you miss the value in facing life
The price of precious lessons learned
Is more than worth the strife

So be careful where you spend your heart
And what a sharp tongue may buy
Because life has a wealthy answer
For your patient, worried “why’ .

having writ

~ Ché ~ Leave a comment

on the cusp of surrenderthe artist weighs a maybe on a plea

maybe
if i set my engine to this ache
my mind could get some rest
if i write it down, if i sing it loud, if i oil it to the canvas
being stabbed or shook or drowned it will pass silently in the night

and so she digs – gouges into what ails her
hollows her heart to spare the tissue around it

and with the final stroke, there it be
the masterpiece she’d grow to love
more than hate the thing that made it
a riot of residual emotion
in her living room
staring her in the soul

just so happened this time the demon
begat a beautiful piece of sky
with hues of you against a finer cloth
than you’d seen in these parts
in at least month of Sundays

motivation clad in the keepsake of that sanguinary battle ‘tween the bitter and the sweet

lossless

~ Ché ~ Leave a comment

when you talk
i find it hard to pay attention
to anything but what your lips are doing

what?
yeah. sure.
whatever you want.

i mean, i’m listening
swear i am
but i get distracted

by what you’re trying to show me
and i just smile
and nod

hm?
nothing.
keep talking.

and then you get to the part of the story
where it’s funny
and YOU smile

damn.

i can’t
see.