Neo Classic

[Neonurotic]

Behind door #5

Every city has a corner
where they look at you
gawking at them.

It's rude, you know
because they
feel your disdain,
worse, false sympathy.

They're better off
if you ignore them,
maybe they'll disappear.

Or become descriptive enough
that you'll strike brilliance.

A muse for film at Sundance,
stark art in black & white,
dregs of life city snapshots,
and birth new pity poetry.

Behind door #5
you're safe, warm.
You love and are loved,
but are only a paycheck
away from living on the outside.

 

[Neonurotic]

Breathless Before 99 Steps

From the view point above,
sun rays slice holes into
the thick gray clouds, shining
a warm spotlight on Pacific waves,
highlighting the cold white caps.

'Northwest beaches in the winter
are nothing less than spectacular.'

…and we see it is true.

Rainy weather intensifies
wildness of cliffs.
Waterfall down;
fog settles in misty veils, tucks
between rocky crags,
lacing evergreens and ferns.

“Beautiful!” She states the obvious
while we walk down 99 steps
that lead to the slate sand below.

 

[Neonurotic]

Cages

Rain hits the asphalt,
wet on wet
bubbles up,
trapping
them inside tiny cages.

Overflowing gutters
carry, swiftly
down.

Sodden leaves
yellow, brown
and red
all dead
do not
stop
captured raindrops.

They fall,
slip through the grate
into the murky deep.

 

[Neonurotic]

Coffee is different

Home brewed, french-pressed is best.
It's cheating to pour from the pot
before the coffee is done.

Nothing is worse than a first cup
that is too strong with a second
a little weaker, until you are sipping
just colored water.

So wait.

It's worth every drop.

With that said, a cup joe is better
if it's shared with company.
The right people to have coffee with
is subjective, usually, but never relative.

I'd buy beers for the boys,
have a few with a rival, I'd even
buy a round for the house.

But beer aside, coffee is different.
You look eye to eye,
talk serious, bullshit and be real.

Don't ever serve instant,
your friend will likely pass along
that you're a lazy bastard
or worse; you make shitty coffee.

So wait.

It's worth every drop.

 

[Neonurotic]

And note how he made the strophes look like coffee cups. He's a sick, sick man.

Café au lait Casanova

Late night, 1 AM, refueling my red-eye writer's insomnia,
with venti vanilla lattés at the corner coffee house.
Sated in caffeine, now cruising for my other fix,
playing it smooth, leaning back with boot heels
rudely, crudely kicked up on the table.
It's all right they know me,
I'm a permanent fixture here,
much like the fake ficus trees,
over sized china mugs,
clichéd café French art—
yes, of course, it's always
Monet's Water Lilies.

Ten minute's shy of a coffee induced sober up for whispering,
giggling ones that pique my ever philandering mind.
Casting a roving eye, I smirk then give them my best
'fuck me' grin, as they are my favorite flavor,
snobby rich girls that have forgotten their
practiced, bored, 'I'm-too-good-for-you looks',
vapid, haute monde attitudes,
flirt and make eyes at me with
primped up, caked on face paint,
wearing slinky designer clothes—
yes, the very best that
daddy's money can buy.

Wantonly wicked smiles elicit me to meander over,
sipping, my now lukewarm java as they size me up,
silently deciding which one's coming home with me.
Maybe the frosted blonde with silicone lips;
or the overly perfumed raven-haired beauty
hiding the stink of an unknowing, fool of a fiancé.
soon enough, the nocturnal nookie is revealed
with wandering hands and an up close rub,
scenting my crotch with her eau de cologne.
Flirting with me is something risqué—
yes, a definite naughty
thrill for her night.

Relaxed lasciviousness has another under my eroto-charm,
back at my place, on her knees; without a single stitch
on her perfectly insipid, plastic surgery body,
where I find she sucks and swallows
expertly, cock sucks me dry;
satisfying that perverted,
horny, satyric lech that breathes,
lives, and incites me,
giving me motivation
for tomorrow's naughty write—
yes, my artful muses are
sex and lattés.​

 

[Neonurotic]

Conjunction

Lying here on our backs,
the night looks so clear.

We sidestep into opposition
while Venus
loves her moon.

Napalm blasts the starlit sky,
fire torches cool attitudes,
eats the planet
with you and I in it.

And baby, we lie still,
watch it all burn in an instant,
realign, and reconnect.

Now let's make a wish,
blow out the world
because we regret nothing.

 

[Neonurotic]

Coffee Code

 

[Neonurotic]

Creation of words

Words flowed from my fingertips.¹
lust in blood with tears
of fear and love
written on the body.

A secret language in passion,
encrypted messages
understood by no one.

Except her eyes.

She holds the code that deciphers
this heart ~ this mind
which lies within
the deepest part of me

Herein, she defines
creation.

It is raw emotion
I spill for her
both complex and simple
that moves the muse,
stirs an echo of little words.²


¹ in "Paper Girl", by flyguy69 © 2004
² in "While Smoking a Cigarette Afterward", by Remec © 2004

 

[Neonurotic]

Cruciatus

The never ending view is the ocean,
razor shards of black. It glares
at the sun with its infinite thousand
diamonds, fracturing light until blind.

Someone has to say it; it's time
to get out of the water, or stay,
swim past the breakers never returning.

Belly crawl the shoreline, filleting
right down to the bone. It opens wounds
to drain toxic trash of whatever was said
or done to self-inflict crucifixion.

The healing is through the super-heated
sand, through the ashes that burn again.
Be smooth like glass,

be a one-way mirror no one sees
the inside and no one ever knows.
That is when soul scarification begins
and the internal torture ends.

 

[Neonurotic]

Eve's Red Shoes

"He doesn't listen to me"
quivers, her collagen lips
stamping, ruby heels

an exclamation point
for her crisis

I don't hear her either
although I pretend
with a nod
a sympathetic smile

because good friends do that

But her blouse is too tight
and neckline too low
to hold my attention elsewhere

All I can think of
is her buck-assed naked
grabbing red shoes

doing her over
in a field of purple clover



Thanks, WickedEve​

 

[Neonurotic]

down

 

[Neonurotic]

Feeding the Black Dog

 

[Neonurotic]

Touching the Sun

Bright rays dazzle
my side of the cliff

No highlight on self-deception
Everyone sees, but me

I've been told
it's too dangerous to walk
blind into the sun
without sunblock or shades

I believe it's true because
every day I wake up
barefaced, kissing lies
torched with 3rd degree burns

A little charmed delusion
makes my vision crystal

I talk with a mouthful of ashes
while touching the sun​

 

[Neonurotic]

hollow

 

[Neonurotic]

Sasebo

 

[Neonurotic]

A Heart in Hand

 

[Neonurotic]

Boiling Point

 

[Neonurotic]

Dirty Talk

 

[Neonurotic]

it's raining

I imagine you and I
in the pouring rain
lip locked
tongues collide

Against this kiss
your name's
whispered into mine

I breathe you
to release me

I've been waiting
all my life
~ and finally
it's raining​

 

[Neonurotic]

Java Vamp

 

[Neonurotic]

Intent

 

[Neonurotic]

New Perspective

Hard-edged, new perspective
viewed at high contrast
White is brighter
black is black as night

Parallel on the road
center
these lines go on forever
or they seem
2000 miles feels that way

Through the haze
veil of fog
stars kiss the sky
I stop counting them at dawn

The sun brings color
to the shadows
but shutter speed closes
before the image is overexposed​

 

[Neonurotic]

Tied to the Last

 

[Neonurotic]

5pm Friday again.

I'm quick tempered,
stuck in slow traffic
thinking, TGIF!
Ya, right

As far as I can see,
it's bumper to bumper,
red tailights,
horns honking,
curses with dirty gestures.

In this cluster-fuck,
I search for
white noise in urbania,
a low hum and buzz
between two,
behind closed doors.​

 

[Neonurotic]

Sundog Down