Three Poems by Phil Barnes

Unrelated Events

And then my heart was frozen

To the point of non-existent spring

But behind my eyes I bubbled and hissed with passion that both sickened and quickened me

The noise was alarming to passersby, who made wide circles around the pretty thing writhing on the concrete.

A few threw change

And it stacked up around me like a tiny little wall making the separation between us brilliant and more profound.

I tried uselessly to synch the madness growing inside me with the relatively ridiculous chain of unrelated events

Cause you left

Cause she left

Cause he left

Cause I left

Knowing that nothing this perverse could be that simply simple

 

 

 

The Imp

 

And your face and the silence and the war

because of course there is always a war.

And the wet heat of your chest against my back and the evenness of your breath

because of course you’re always even(which makes our arrangement comical)

And the plain way your love is so free and mine is like spikes sticking through my palms tearing my skin, tearing your skin, tearing…

And the shit grin on my face and the sun and its mocking and the people and their aha’s and your persistence and the fact that day always has to follow night even when you’d rather not and the burning fucking burning fucking burning fucking burning and your face and the peace or the piece and the truth and the unfilled space and the lack of air and the pain and the beating in my head and the loneliness and the charade and the hook and the moment and the need and my lines and she’s gone and I’m tired and its futile and the push and the drive and my twisted insides and the seed and the quiet that isn’t quiet just loud in another way and the weight under which I can barely move.

And your hand on my hair and your soft and timed strokes, careful so as not to rouse the dark imp in me

and me gnawing at my own insides

and of course the war

 

 

Twisted

Around the corner

on a mattress filled with tears and tasteless excuses not to try

lies who I was before you

you see it

smell it even

but act as if it exists not

 

Who wouldn’t respect you for that?

 

Tonight

on these sheets we purchased

we may meet for the first time

wide eyed

ready

speaking nothing of what we know

brandishing our combined filth like if only we had neon

 

I can’t really see you

but I can hear you just fine

and sometimes

when you and I

have luck on your side

I can feel you

 

Always feet first

cautious

Gingerly requesting so little

 

You fit into the tiniest space I have ever seen

 

Feels like I could take you anywhere

Like

what you think

you need

and what you request

will have such a gap between them

that I can build a shelter big enough to hold my woe

And it will go unnoticed

 

This may be the perfect combination