Denizen of the Dark

Denizen of the Dark

A Poem by Laura A. Shodire
"

He knows who he is

"

Took me down to where you are(words missing)
another thought of you crawling up my rocky style of a spine
I loved you more then the first
like the last time
it got worst
carved me asunder
lit a candle to my core
a burning in my stomach man-o-lantern
burn(coffee spill here)
went back to
blues and basics
nonsense on your lips fell forth
a rambling bout the joker and the thief
an' mine never dry of red colour
or short of lists-
read to easy

an'he was sing'n bout' a monster
or was that me(ashes cashed)
I had to wait out a two year drift
to get some words from him
no matter how good I could have been
kisses never wrought much of anything
so I started staking slits
and I started digging deep
stuck all the strips with paper news
in open wounds for you to see
and aw you're lying there
and I claim oh not to care
just like you
wish I could go back(takes a hit)
just like you
when affection wasn't affliction
wasn't a war(words missing)
I was always under attack
drunk do I have to try(words missing)
look so pretty I still have to try
oh your wicked arms(carved)

do I have to act a fool
praise the god of alcohol that I do(nag champa)
and I do(the rambling song starts to play)
those wicked arms(carved) (words missing)that pull close but never take hold
those wild eyes
those lips that lie
this pen spits venom-
(nib spits on all that is white)
petrol-
and lines of gold(superstition)
it never gets tired
hungry
odd or old
never gets cancer
has
the
answer

obeys the flaws
(not) the laws
draws the straws
pulls the shots
praise the god of alcohol
for making fools and lovers of us all
he wants to be in open air
I can't deny him when he'll go anywhere
red why don't you rest a bit
checks the time and spits
doesn't matter
(doesn't matter)
what they're all after
tell him I love him
ask him to call me again
I'll be waiting on the line
in a circle of salt
the watch is drunk off wickedness and wine
tattoo that spell you always guessed
free from addiction and plighted predicaments-

She gripped my wrist
we made a promise
we're downright wicked but at least we're honest
she danced through the dark like treason a wonder
needed no reason
no reason
she stretched tight over the pegs
6 slender necks to play
I screamed strike till the break
till the brake
I'm always the most eager to aid
you're desperate
you're easy
I loathe
don't speak anymore believe me
too obvious
you do you're best no matter what you're after
in both disdain and disaster

speed of mind
sit here too long alone
and you'll get stoned by clowns and clones
You're wasted(Get out)
drooling on my shoes
get out-time to go-out of time
we played till it was late
made the owner wait
wife at home stay'n up late
tip'd the last inch of drink an' got lit
(get out) now you must
no won't getcha ride
to the liquor store
get out go
it's too late soon it'll be too early
get out
this is a charity song
they don't pay
get out
get drunk
get (censored)

wish I was sixteen
I dedicate this song to time machines
and black coffee blues
to sherlock and penguin stew
to yours and you
to being loud
and being tone def

and singing like no one is there
in a room full of confused 20 something year olds
and asian shop keepers who are always angry,
to germans,
and irish accents,

to momma in palm springs,
to my sister in las vegas,
and to my brother in avalon,
and my younger one out there somewhere,
and my two best friends who are nasty (and obscene geniuses)
with wild hair and sharp teeth and bass guitars and shotguns
who will be with me forever to the end to the end,
to sweet and lean ax in az,
to van gogh's wife forth in time full of flowers and paint,
to dark diana with her moon guitar and her men in the stars,
to beautiful shock blond model god from the future,
and rose who ruined my life but is condemned to never bloom
she'll stay tight in the bud and in pain till I toss her glitter and doom,

to bob,
and tom,
and tim,
and joe,
and son,
to mad who loves vikings and brought many of us to the table,
to half way through the night who is never here and moved on(loves raves),
to dev who left and never calls,
jess in santa ana who survives and drives her bomb car through clovers,
to gunman with fire for me when I need,
to the steampunker(vagabond)-
who creates and runs through the trees seeking lost times-
makes pixel trees and paper wings-
says strange things-speaks in tongues with a twang-
everything in him is gold-
the world is all a stage-
my new thrill who is always thrilling and knows all the lines,
the goth who orbits apathy,
the bluesman who never has money,
the angel vagrant,
(who didn't fall but got lost and got drunk and wanders 'cross the surface of the sun),

the dispenser who lied and seeks enlightenment in cookies,
to phoenix and angelus,
tequila town,
Delacroix,
and mother's ruin,
to the science teacher with his hand shot off,
to modern magdalene who cleans the feet of the crusifix and gets her hair oil slick keeps the pedestal clean for the catholic church who won't let her in so she slips through the window at 3,
loves the rich and the famous,
and tv,

to songs,
all of them ever,
and safety pins,
and refugees,
and poetry from italian poets in the 13th century,
brail poetry,
and morse poetry,
and notes on pianos that read (wait for me),
to lovers of death,
and their living loves who keep them alive,
to pocket trumpets and free pianos,
and cowboy killers
(marlboro is run by american natives),

to that guy and that girl who kept crying till I told her to leave,
to all who offer free pipes and bottles,
to anyone who buys my work-
I remember you at 5 in the morning in mk'donalds
with my egg mk'muff'n and my mk'coffee,
and soon-my electric toothbrush gun-machine made tattoos will be available for investment,
to color change everything,
kraft macaroni,

irish car bombs, zombies off the rocks, sex in winter, rum, scotch, vodka, martinis dry or moist I don't give a damn,
to every song you('ll) ever write about me,
and paper that I rape and sell,
(all the smalls things I forgot that matter),
(all the small people I forgot),
the nano pet that was always starved and beeping,
Thai iced tea,
love letters and suicide notes,
hate mail, black mail, anthrax mailmen,
ink blot thoughts,

epiphanies inscribed in jots,
electric wire warnings in lines and dots,
put your hand in the box,
space is a waste,
the ocean is dirty scary essential unexplored,(illegible)
science is suggestive,
spice and nutmeg,(sentence blurred)
I need to draw more to get a tattoo gun to shoot you up with forever,
you need the surgery to remember things and to remember me,
to the denizen of the dark that look passed the photos and through the words
right where my name is kept
at the tips of tongues
and nibs of pens. (words missing)



(whole page missing)

(the sound of boom)

(six hundred and sixty-six cigarettes later)




Tell him I still love him goddamnit.

(Jesus)

© 2009 Laura A. Shodire


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Added on August 15, 2009

Author

Laura A. Shodire
Laura A. Shodire

Rancho Cucamonga, CA



About
"Think, Learn and Evolve, or Die..." My Name is Laura Shodire. I am 19 years old. I currently reside in Rancho Cucamonga, California. My whole life is dealing with the architecture of words. I pre.. more..

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