Ghost Writer

Poem. its been a long time

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I Am

I am Porphyria’s lover

I commissioned the last duchess,

Mutilated Mary Kelly

The horror in the heart of darkness

I am the serpent in the tree,

The one who seduced Eve,

Flew Flight 11

And drank the blood of the black sheep

I am the Kraken roaring forth

From the depths of the sea

I spread human debris

Amongst Lockerbie

Assasinated Kennedy

And shouted “Hey John!”

Invited those who dared

To touch the face of God

And looked down in contempt

When I waved them off

I am the stone that the builder refused

The seed who fell upon the path

The Great Storm of 1913

Elizabeth Bathory’s bath

I am the Black Death

Influenza

and HIV

With the jawbone of an ass

Cleaved the Philistines

From hip to thigh

Mixed the Flavor Aid

And told Mary not to cry

I toppled the walls

Blew the horn on the seventh day

Broke the seventh seal

And commanded the angels to play

-Ghost Writer

new poem, new style

Retrograde Romance

She looks beautiful

In her blue jacket

Bangs framing the pretty face

Reminiscent of a movie star

Pressing close

Touching lightly

Than running finger tips

Across her legs

Leaning close

Faces brushing to talk over the band

Moment building

The catalyst

A jealous bitch

And a flower gift

The same cream complexion

As her perfect smooth skin

That leads to the first kiss

Awkward

But sweet

A walk in the rain

Arm in arm

Sharing shotguns

Locking lips to pass poisons

l’embrasser de la mort

Dancing

Glancing

Flirting with her eyes

A walk back

Her arm finds mine this time

More dancing

Falling into sound

A final walk

Fingers laced together

Pull her close by her scarf

Cold rain falls

A final kiss

The bus drives away

Lying on the bathroom floor

The next day

Everything of her night taken away

Except for a single rose in a wine glass

Retrograde romance

-Ghost Writer

Back

The Run Up

I should run up in your house

Show you what family’s about

Scream all day

Hoarse voice from the shout

Can’t recognize it then

When the deadbolt pops

And I ask you to drop

Ski masks and ball bats

Not here to kill

Just to show what happens

If you fuck with me and steal

You’ll get fucked with steel

Strap on your head you’ll feel

Pistol whipped

Front teeth chipped

Cell phone gripped

No calls to the police

You can’t say shit

Cause you wronged me too

Eye for an eye

I already don’t see good

I’ll make us both blind

            -Ghost Writer

it’s been a while

sorry it’s been so long…i’ve been writing other things, from sports stories to CD reviews for my school paper at Fredonia State and, most fun, a few comic book scripts.  but here’s comething

Stolen

He sees men at night

Stealing his money, toys and love

Shit I don’t see

When I’m rolling on drugs

Nurses attempt to kill him

His wife is cheating

The cold world chills him

Sanity fleeting

It hurts her so much

After the way he saved them

Became the husband and father

The first man should’ve been

He’s been stolen from them

He’s not there anymore

He threatens her life

But he doesn’t know it hurts

We forgive him

For he knows not what he does

It’s his world now

Imperceptible by us

Stolen from his life

His sentence to live in Hell

A bed in Zanesville, Ohio

Holds not a man

But a shell

            -Ghost Writer

A god on the mic

in honor of Rakim’s new solo album, a couple cuts

Peace God

It’s been a long time

I shouldn’t of left you

Without a strong line

To wreck you

Think of how many cold nights you slept through

Time’s up

I’m sorry I kept you

Fiending for this

Pure cocaine bliss

No cut

No filler

No preemie condom shit

No arm and hammer

Or benzo for sale

Just pure fishscale

White as hell

The Ghost ain’t no joke

I move the crowd so well

Peace god to Rakim

For giving me the shell

            -Ghost Writer

Painted Black

This close to the institution

Did anyone else see that?

Wait a lifetime for retribution

Did anyone else hear that?

Speak and shoot free like the constitution

I want it painted black

Take that house on Dryden

And turn it into a trap

Replace the good memories inside it

With violence, bullets, blood and sex

Every nice thing I said about you

I take it all back

And I will take your top off

Like ashing a cigarette

            -Ghost Writer

Wrought Iron Railing

Creep down the stairs

Look over the wrought iron railing

Fish tank gurgles and glows

The sound of the wind wailing

As it blows past the house

Moves trees about

Welcome upstate

Where it’s always nasty out

And the weather changes

As much as my mood

The fury that was born

In the house where the fish tank broods

Will show its face to you

Unstable emotions

Will raise more hell

Than the wind and aquarium commotion

That used to wake me up and yell

Have me downstairs as a child

Keep pushin buttons

I’ll smoke you like a Black & Mild

Your plastic tip skull busted

            -Ghost Writer