Jeff's Poetry

customary back and forth like the sea tossing a hi five - barely registers on the inside when wrapped springs coil with increasing tension even though the words coming out is still like free flowing wine. more sir? a nod, absent minded behavior, inertia carries forth this act slowly sinking awareness

void, vacant heart - delayed response, the pursuit is on. with imaginary gods steadfast, but the faustian bargain becomes it's own mocking laughter played back. and suffering was the road avoided,

a possibility turns to a certain fact, lived as a certain fate, becomes self fulfilling - but logic makes no dent on passion wild, it will be, it has to be; becomes the haunted cry of the wailing banshee. for what else could be said of the mad man repeating the same chant each day?

price? the streets they mismatch with haggling, with fine prints, uncomprehensible languages that stops the engine from running without fuel. a drop of blood. a sign. then the metallic beast heaves and grunts, becomes ready to leap again to the next chapter where

that a glance became something more, that a fight up that hill taught a village simpleton how real battle actually works, that swords forged from the river styx cuts the soul, that subtlety is an art that is often hinted, implied

some say it is the accumulation - of bits of knowledge, like copper, turns gold - or sand grainy in one fleshy lump and teeth cracks. unforeseen consequences of too much pleasure. some say the coat represents the identity, judge a book by it's cover. they rush

i was all quite happy, contented till - lust said: this is dull, flat then added a fork, an altitude, a mountain on top of the sky; afloat without support and that looked pretty cool to me, that captivating sight burned through my vision

burnt caramel with creamy chocolate on the inside, with liquid chestnut tuckered still deeper within drizzling cherries ripe flowing like rivulets while the sugared crust hardens then cracks. like the mouth chomping away, a hideous grin, a gleam then a glaze as fresh life

shouldn't be riding on angel's wings, floating with sea treasures stolen from the dragon king whose loss has caused deep animosity, the tides rise to swallow sirens bemused with heavenly voice turning hearts into water - following the depressions, caves, gravity does her work. no longer chained at sea,

do you like it all without the wrinkles? and i like it that you smile a little more. even though - the smile is for the smooth satin like surface, almost a reflection of your own narcissistic grin protruding out of that shallow mask slipping. and we make small chats, dance