FOOL(S)GOLD

11.19.19
on being burned

she lit torch to flame and my body turned to fuel
letting aesthetics sink in kerosene
i am ember singing skin and comfrot

this isn’t the first time
nor will it be the last
let every earthquake feel like heartbeats
reminding me why its always worth it
to shake
in hardship, betrayal,
there is deeper pain that this

let me tell you something
i have made it my mission in life
to flaunt these burn blisters like fucking badge of honor.
watch how they sizzle and burn my skin
then watch as i tend the wound of an arsonists’ shameful heart.

see, forgiveness is not a privilege
it is a warm bath after cold days, socks on dry feet after rain
the first drink of water on thirsted lips
damp cloth on blistering skin

it is our right.

im in pain
i am burned and scalded
it is not the first time, nor will it be the last
but i will always hold my candle to that flame
and thank it for being a light

FOOL.S.GOLD

8.20.19
never before
have i so clearly felt the difference
between a house and a home

FOOL(S)GOLD
8.14.19 – later that evening

“Love is something so ugly that the human race would die out if lovers could see what they were doing” (Leonardo da Vinci).”

fucking leaves everything as it is.
fucking may in no way interfere with the actual use of language.
for it cannot give it any foundation either.
it leaves everything as it is.
that wasnt fucking
that was absolute stupidity
reminders that anyone’s claim to round-the-clock dignity is tenuous
a rational animal has a desperate drive
to pair up and moan
and writhe
and destroy everything it loves

FOOL.S.GOLD

7.28.19
nothing gold ever stays
“we’ll have our memories” he says
like im not already clinging to reminiscence
he sets the table with expectation
taking his time with syrup and hollandaise
never mistaking the sugar and salt
your certainty is a battleground for my doubt

to be idolized or remembered?
holding the balance on my fingertips
are searching your chest for what will be
i could have sworn i was telling the truth when i said i wasnt scared anymore

“Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let the pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place”

FOOL.S.GOLD

1.1.19

remember the mist?
flying over paper air we sung
loves like them
decorating thunder, lightning shivers

where snow is capped with chlorine
im more fantasy then true
whos to say we’re not painting songs
stealing distances
impeccable sun surfaces

7.6.17
FOOL(S)GOLD
i want an instance of
knock the air from my lungs
a bully too normality too long.
chancing this as a symptom of discipline
who determines that anyway?
when has popular opinion ever give me a choice
to decide normality.
i was handed a stack of dead wood to build a house
and told to look at nature.

7.05.17
FOOL(s)GOLD
have you ever tasted discipline?
sweeter than honey
lighter than air
suddenly you can ride Pegasus into Vesuvius
and come back ash and dust
but triumphant.

6.20.17
FOOL(S)GOLD
i’m thirsty
tide pulled by an ocean
im calling home sirens
who can drown the fish then?
it all ends in the same place
treading water until further notice
i’m sharing my bed with Fortune
i’m sharing my porch with a wasp
one scares me more that the other
there are dreams i wish i could look back on
freedom i hope to take back or define
its stuck
can’t tell if behind or in front
i hear shadows cracking their joints at me
like they too are getting old
calling my bluff
even if i know my weekly routes
i still can’t tell left from right.

6.7.17
FOOL(S)GOLD
hollow victories and re
opened wounds
the need to polish trophies just to
rub the rag’s face in.
where has temperance gone?
eating creel and lackluster for shine’s sake.
allowing time to disregard how my wrist
moves in tandem with greed.
do you tell the world, or eat your shame?
this bone i chew still kicks at my teeth
forgetting the arms that hold you
have taken men and women on their bellies
walking away with more than blood
on my hands
tied to these trophies they sound
petty with my name stamped on their cover
think of that next time you try to rope me in.