time well spent

the burst of pain comes through the hole;
a bead of sweat mingled with a tear
escaping its loose prison as you close your eye
falls down on your knee,
sharing a mutual saltiness which remind you
previous night's unrepentant pleasures
and unfulfilled promises
and tell-tale lies told into people's pupils,
without blinking an eye who has witnessed
a life full of ever burning half lives
including its owner's.

something is on fire.
is it your life?
or,
your ass hole?

liarsong

when people lie
there is a physical reaction:
skies hark;
lillies die.

(and walls crumble
and tears fall
and roads twist
and leaves crawl)

when poets lie
there is a physical reaction:
filthy thumbs throb
kinky dead sing
dirty windows wake
and petty loves stink

(and walls crumble
and tears fall
and roads twist
and leaves crawl)

when lovers lie
there is a physical reaction:
the shepherds sing
and minds bawl
and lepers kiss
and poems stall--