Poem: Fading

1 year
2 years
3 years
4 years
Slowly I forget
How long I've been changing
Who was I
And where will I end up
My entity is confused
My peach is bruised
But it lost the fuzz
At the same time the branch was cut
Replant it, they taught
As if death comes back with water and mulch

Standing
again
against these winds
Watching the cliff
Fall down before me
So far down
The rocks broke so far down
Will I?
- Peter

Poem: Car Die Pem

Carpe diem
Carpe diem
Carpe diem
With a splatter of paint
And a knife through the heart
A bit melted chocolate
Dipped into easily
Carpe diem
Carpe diem
Carpe diem
Ask them a question
Talk on the train
Look up and smile
Slap that asshole
Carpe diem
Carpe die
Carp
- Peter

Poem: Utilities

I sit again and think
Interrupted by the sharp knife of
Sweet words and affection
Take a sledgehammer why don't you
And tear down this wall Mr. Gorbachev
My own personal ideological dichotomy
And an overt and overly
Developed sense of vanity
So what thoughts are before me
What do you see that I see
When can we live as we breathe
  Never.
      Soon.
    Eventually.
    But because of extremity.
  Are you sure?
      Perhaps.
    No.
  Of course.
Battle, battle, little mason jar bugs
And don't question the spoon that brought this
And don't question who shook the jar
- Peter

Poem: Red Lines

Jesus Christ
If I had a dime for ever smile on these faces
These countless faces
I'd be a 5 cent whore
- Peter

Poem: Cabbage With a Hint of Skunk

I smell this smell whenever I come here
I know they smell it too
That reek of piss and grime and
Sadness
That desperation for nickels and dimes to
breath new life into forgotten
balloons and mothy suits

She smells it too
I know it
A flowered skirt and large sunglasses
That are just
Reflective black veils for other faces
Pump up shoes
Step over the chewing gum
As you walk into that Starbucks.

Two bright eyes in the darkness
The tunnel of sparceness
And brand spanking new chrome
We all wanted
No more smell
Of lower class hell
Just air conditioning
with automated bells
New red seats
Judgemental feet
Packed Hilfiger bags
And bamboo thread sheets.
So soft
Like sleeping on a cloud
So soft and silky
It holds you like your mother never could
Just let your troubles drift away
Wash all your problems down the drain
- Peter

Poem: Post-Modern Prayer

Such giant structures we have
The business sector
The heart of the city
Where the heartless see those in want
Of love
Of security
Where do these workers go
Where do they live
Glass and concrete make their
Visual feats of
Patterns that reach into the sky
And stab god
A standing monument to Gaia conquered
But where are the men who the bricks up by hand and hung on for dear life at breakneck winds while sitting on the throne of eagles
Does that sense of pride
Run through their spine
And brighten their eyes
As they walk by?
Or was it just a job
Another job.
Laying down brick and mortar
Of idols and gods
- Peter