Here are
a few from my friend Mykael.
I admire his poems for being able to give me the addicts eebie-jeebies
and express that despair that is an addicts constant friend.
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we recommend you take a seat
with hands lightly crossed in the lap
and both feet flat on the floor
while we calmly wait for slavation
and the sores which chew internally
become external.
till we turn inside out
and all the grief we've been hiding and suppressing
smells so bad you sicken and faint
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ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
State Of Oblivion
I miss the little sting before you draw back the plunger to register
the little red plume and then PLUNGE that fucker and fall into heaven
for awhile and NOPEY DOKE nothing else matters for a few hours. I miss
masturbating the syringe, push on the plunger then plunge a little back
and forth, Id rinse that syringe at least twice with my blood before
finishing and finding my own state of oblivion in the Nation of Nothing
Hurts and Nothing Matters Anymore.
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
meth
I am not in love
Meth
Has left my life
My flesh is hungry
For the very touch it fears
I am not in love
Meth
Has left me lonely
For the prick
the red plume
the plunge
the cough
which released my soul
to sell itself
piece by piece
for a quarter oz
an eightball
a sixteenth
half sixteenth
one g
a half g
a quarter?
You want me to suck your dick for one line?
whip it out
I am not in love
I have some meth
just grip my arm
I don't need a tie
and slid 'er in
bulls-eye baby
I am in love with everything
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
that night.
Since the night
I wrapped you in black plastic
and tape
I walk alone down alley's
dark and silent
in my sleep
I walk alone down alley's
without feet
Since that night
I have shopping cart dreams
of dumpster diving
smelling rancid grease
finding momento's
from one who's just died
and cutting my fingers
on broken picture-frame glass
Now that the night
that took you away has come and gone
like a crow lighting briefly before flying away
I dream silent movies full of characters
who were friends now gone yonder
And when I open my mouth to speak
only black feathers come out
I've been decreated of plastic and glass
and feathers and tape
endlessly rolling in silence down alleys
in shopping carts dripping with rancid grease
since the night your circuits grew cold
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
Southern Hotel
It was hot
San Diego
summer night
at 5th & Bst.
Southern Hotel
over the Tappas Room
an industrial dumpster outside
full of unplumbed treasure
you hadda window view of it
had yer own pisser too
deluxe accomadations
for crystal freaks
like me and you
we had coffee and enemas
and sparkley speed
in bullet shaped quarter g containers
and we aimed them at all those
meth vampires
roaming the streets
of tweeker heights
and tweeker Dennys
they collected our bites as we
collected their pennys
occasionally I got lucky
found one worth taking
back to the Southern Hotel
with the peeling plaster
and the neon lights
and the crazy amphetamine ecstasy
of his fucking me all night.
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
Exile
With our hearts wrapped in Saran
Are we here to hear hollow words
or sincere verbs taking flight to fan the silence
damn the silence
as it smothers the violence of a ghost locked and chained
in solitude engaged in caged enraged soliloquy
words reach out like desperate hands
gnarled and grasping for even the lightest featherlike touch
well deep in digital prisons
snarling and gasping across chasms from our telephones
too afraid of voices making us three dimensional
intentional connection scares us crawling back into the void
avoidance fits us so well
well worn torn and wholly alone
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
what brings a new day
what will a new day bring?
flowers spilling over your cradleing arms?
charms shining
spinning
spitting light around your aura
daisy faeries dancing in your hair?
in your world I hope this is true
I sit alone in a windy landscape with a few tufts of struggling grass
still thirsty after the last drops of dew
and the dust demons spin everytime I think of you
yesterday moves away like a the thunder of a screaming squall
and I pound the skies with my fists
as tomorrow mocks my call
I am tied and staked upon this ground
memorys of you are like ants
swarming me in their unified consumption
slow, agonizing, as they chew me
and find every place their is to crawl
the stratosphere pulls out her crayons
using amazing teqnique to distract and entertain you
and I pray the sun hangs low long enough
for you to forget
during the pyrotechnic fantasy
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
lost
down a shadowed path in the wood
a slice of light beckons my way
it is always will o' the wisp whisking away my wish
laughing and tinkling so gay
ha!
you are lost yet another day
and each day you're older
leaves you farther away
from the golden honey touches
you shared once and many
when you struggled in the urgency
of your ecstasy
the daring forbidden godless things
which blessed you so richly
only a cruel memory now
to claw your heart and break your bones
owl cries who who
crow answers ...wants you now?
you fool of flesh
you useless scarecrow
your rags are caked with birdshit
you're worse than nothing and less than dirt
stumble and crawl blindly now through thorn andthicket
and if you are fortunate
the jackals will leave nothing
to be recognized
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
Kommunikate
I know I have something
at least I think
I'm pretty sure
I have something to say
but every time my jaw opens
so does that holein my brain
and it just flys away
the depth of feeling accrued
through suffering of life
seems cheapened when translated to paper
and it just flys away
when I try to allude
to events whose meaning become thin as vapor
like how I have reached this point in my life
climbing rung by rung upon a razor ladder
each cut turns to scar just to get this far
and still find disillusionment and strife
a little less smarter and a whole lot madder
and I know there was something
at least I think so
but, oh I forgot.
the pain in my head never stops
while doctors with their clipboards
held like some mutant flattened erections
diddle themselves and sneer
talking about me in the third while I sit there
hearing every word
feeling like a laboratory chump in a cage
but the answers to their questions
just fly away
while the battle in my head continues to rage.
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
un-done
why did I undress
in front of strangers?
a crazy miss-placed
feeling of safety
I try to light a fag
but my hands are shaking
I stripped myself naked
in front of them
I filleted my soul to strangers
they must be shocked
I am deranged
bare to the bones displayed
what was the point
I think there was a reason
but through this searing panic
I can only hear a roar that
will not stop repeating
mistake mistake mistake
re-raped re-raped re-raped
all pride and dignity has been
chopped and ground and scattered around
for the raptors feast
the raping beast
caw caw caw
ha! ha! ha!
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
14 years ancient
words kind
shadows blind
sounds of sincerity
heard
but location obscured
who? who?
the teasing old owl
returns
with mousy in his mouth
mirrored world
that is me in owlsleys mouth
Acid king brings no map
to help me back
why why why
here?
where a 14 yr old boy
is spread naked and drunk
across the bed of some tasmanian lawyer
who will not take no
and my crys and whimpers
soften him not
where is my father?
Off always off off off
with some woman or other
hes forgotten I have a mother
hes forgotten I have a father
No my surrogate father gets me drunk
he ties me up
and he enters my most private place
and pumps and pumps me full of disgrace
when hes'a done I can taste his nasty come
all the way up through my bowels
And when he is finished I think I am loved
but I am only the next one before the one after
I allowed this violation to feel special
and I am only as special as the next beer can tossed aside
Oh the fullness of bursting pride as if I were his bride
has left black ashes where something once golden has died
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
No Bells For Rev Del
oh no you don't
don't manipulate me
with your suicidal posturing
you dark bastard reverend
baptised in bourbon
circumsized
with the razor I just chopped a line with
you with the threadbare vestment
full of holes
guzzling your pain
with a jesus chaser
not so fast you dark bastard pastor
If you succumbed to the one who loves you
you'd feel those forty lashes
without a scar left to betray your pain
and the world will keep turning
and many many many many many
hearts will burn as does yours
if you are that cruel
please invite me over to kick your ass
and rip you with the kind of loving
you don't want
from one such as me
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
mescaline drum
Your blue flame pipe burns money and glues angels to your brain
replaces your pain with tasty pasty charm when you're on
your 3 alarm run to your mesacaline drum
even when you're found out
you can not pound out
this slippery glass fire so swollen and shiny
and your face glows as you vomit desire
for the dirty bastard son hiding over there
he is the pain you have sired
he is craven and craving all the secret licorice you have to spare
tired blue you are spare tired blue on your mescaline run
and the 3 alarm drum says this is serious this is ridiculous
how your damned drum falls, it falls into the sky
you have failed, so with nostrils full of sage and mesquite
you hear desert hawk cawling
he is telling you to impale yourself on the century plant
because you are too pale to kiss this rattlesnake
and your blue-eyed bastard gun tries to shoot the sun
the last alarm thrums and we bounce and jump
like pebbles on the skin of the mescaline drum
and we thank god for the world that we possess
for this world that we own
we drink in celebration yes we are drinking
all the rivers up and pissing everywhere
for are we not gods?
yes we are the landlords
why even our skin is so very very fair
as fair as the way we treat all indigenous peoples
and the rest of the beasts of the planet
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
dictionary
that's right, hit me with your "ass-hole"
your "Goddamned son of a bitch"
slap me with your contempt
slug me with disgust
embrace me in your thornsand I will patch the holes in the walls of
our home
with pages from the dictionary
the ones that define love and hopelesness
devotion, honour and forgiveness
the ones that explain torture, blindness
forever and masochistI will paste our lives back together
be your paper martyr
and pretend not to notice
your illiteracy of feeling.
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
dead performance blue
pale blue coronet goes
dit. dit. dit.
sta. ca. tto. echooooes
baritooone saxophooone
riiiiiiiiips with shrieking
uh, dizzonance
I alone exist inside this spotlight
there is no room inside this spotlight
for anyone but me, myself, and my microphone
I caress and purrrr, well I confess, I concurrr
all the blood has left my heart
-I did my partfretless bass
digs those uh, bottomless blues
wire on the snare, well I do declare
put out the fire with
a muted trombone
while I ride his horny down-slide groan
why I'm just a busy busy buzzy fly
stuck. to this fly-paper spot
.........of light
piano plinks ....uh, that's right
I've been damned to play
lord doomed to perform
to an empty auditorium
and still I fill the seats
in this forum for ghosts;
............. hey,
I do my part!dada doo dum, dooooooo dum, doo dum do!
da dooya dooya dooya dooya do! do! do!
hey snare-man, gimme a little roll right here.......................
da dun!
spin on my heel
back to the room
drop my mic
the spot
goes black
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
~?~
I am so god-damned fucking sick of it all. sick of being put in the
position
of answering to my reason for being because I happen to fall in love
with
other men
sick to death of the exchange of looks
the arrogant sneers
the elbows in the ribs of their "red-blooded" "real-man"
buddiesI want to gun them down watch their worthless guts spill
dance in their he-man puddles of blood
I want to tie them up slice off their silly cocks and stuff them down
thjeir
own throats\
and stuff them up their own stinking ass-holesIn fact I am so enraged
I don't need any gun
watch this faggot rip your faces right off of your skulls and stomp
them in
the mud
you stupid smug mistakes of nature
worthless wastes of flesh
I curse you all to die the slowest most painful hideous deaths
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
cinderfella
I stumbled upon the cinder rocks
blood running from my head
left behind
with the deafening chants
the killing taunts
the shoving arms that greet me
at school every morning
hurting raw uncomprehending
roaring in my ears
I remain instinctively quiet
while dragged into the boys room
to watch them push Burls head into the toilet
screaming silently in horror
there is no escape
no one to tell
these things are not spoken of
crying in there crotches
with my face pulled there
grabbed by the hair
cinder rock cuts knees elbows
and innocence
when you lay there whipped by their laughter
wondering why bother to get up again
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
soledade
I'm taking a Sunday walk on an empty road
the celebrated sun pushes from behind
my shadow stretched a mile long before me
not lost in thought I just walk
carelessly kicking the pebbles and stones along the way
that represent the words and individual letters
of broken sentences that are the answers I
did not heednow in my need
just so much dust and gravel to scuff my shoes
or rocks to skip across the lake or build a cairn
that some-one might one-day wonder
for at least a solitairy moment
who had taken the time and trouble
to use these wasted answers and all these
discarded dreams to build a pile of rubble
that has no meaning that doesn't do anything.But when my shadow is my
escort
everywhere I go
All the answers to the secrets of the ages
just don't mean a god damned thing.
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
methadone with it all
I have just picked up
all the jagged little pieces
made the way safe to walk again
when the phone rang
my phone never rings
I dropped all the pieces and they broke
and scatterered into even more and sharper pieces
it was you calling to congratulate me
on picking up the pieces
on doing so well
oh and by the way
you thought it time I should know
your boyfriend lives with you now
in fact your first anniversary will come in December.
Somehow I managed to tell you how happy I am for you
before I hung up
before I got hung up
It is now official, your life has moved on
and I am merely methadone
Everytime I begin to get it together
someone or something blithely reaches out to knock me down
well there are limits and I've reached mine
I am methadone with it all
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
sock puppet
whenever I say "hi!"
"well how are you?!"
"GREAT!"
smiling and nodding
I am a puppy bobbing in the rear window of your car
a sock-puppet, a talking head,
dead lips molding
meaningless utterance....
Because I say these things
from outer space through a wooden pole.
I am stuffed with sawdust.
I
feel
nothing.
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
No Title
On ThisI'm fading falling wheeling wailing zero gravity spinning failing
without a hand hold to grasp
floating room to room like a ghost in my empty home, I know no
goblins to call my own, it stings like the poison of an asp
I have become utterly alone
Just me and my last memory before I went clean when Bryons
soft brown eyes could only look at me adoringly ripped at me
like some filthy thing and I had to stand by while my best friend
at first so slowly I didn't comprehend began to lose the bright
sparkle of humor and intelligence until the dqy I knocked upon
his door and the thing that answered wasn't Richard anymore
his skin was grey his eyes so dull he looked like a zombie from
a b-grade movie complete with the shuffle, he couldn't even
talk to me........ he died that day
So now the only things that prop me up these 4 years later
are the pill cocktails the Dr.'s promise will make me better
but at times when the gun isn't far from my hand I begin to
consider getting hooked up to Hendrix's Electro-Shock Ladyland
because whatever I don't feel has got to feel better than this.
That's why I'm not sleeping anymore, except for those delicious nods
where I begin to talk and wake my self up to nobody there
or I go somewhere and as soon as I start to do something
I open my eyes and I'm still in my chair
and I don't cry any more
but I'm sobbing myself to pieces on the inside
I'm not falling apart, I'm just caving in
I'm disintegrating
an' all it took was a bucket of water
And I couldn't give the fastest damn
if I'm not acting the culturally correct manly man
what a sad load, what a ridiculous shell
to be proud of rough and gruff
while a brothers living breathing flesh and blood
is boiling in oil without benefit of dieing in eternal hell
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
a single wing
I don't know what to call my selfnor who to say I amJust this thing
with a single wingI showed up in the mirror when I woke up in this fierce
land.I stayed hidden in this buildingcompletely disorientedall the walls,
the floors, ceilings and furniturewere white.when I peeked through the
windows,nothing I saw made any sense.a wooden bridge led from my doorwayto
a cage full of feathers. Some very brightand beautiful, some caked with
dried blood.And where I expected to see sky was allrusting iron. the
only source of light werein-numerable old holiday lamps and decorationsin
disrepair. over the cage of feathers one hungit flashed eetings eetings
eetings in a longfaded shade of green.I determined I would not venture
out therein my white abode with one wing I would stayand when I slept
I dreamed of sliding and glidingamong stars and flying through the milky
wayI discovered, at least I never grew hungryand talking to myself was
not so badI soon found out my echo had its own opinionsso I could while
away many hoursin sometimes heated discussion.How did I get here? will
I ever know?I'm not really living. I'm not really deadI've clearly been
abandoned and I don't knowwhat to do.If I could I would start a fire
here. but noincendiary items are to be foundnothing to be foundno-one
to be foundI want to be foundwhy am I never found?
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
Man With The Moon For A Head
Somebody help me from this corner
trapped beneath the moon
it is growing from my shouldersYou robbed my thirteen year old penis
claimed it as your own
It was a lawyer and a high school teacher
and some faceless other
who poured cocktails down my fourteen year old throat
told me I was special every Sunday
while you fucked me like a whore Does anybody hear me from my time machine?
locked up like a rock in a tumbler
that is too soft to ever take a polish
I simply distinigrated into a hundred thousand granules
and then was dumped to scatter into outer spacetill the one day when
an angel from the milky way
found one floating vein
she went swimming up and collecting stars and
sewing needles on comets tails she put me
back together againBut she could not give back all the youthfull energy
of innocent hopes and dreams and joy
and even as she smiling propped me up and put me together again
she did exact an awful priceSo now I have grown tired and slow and sitting
still
too long. The moon has come to rest upon my
shoulders. Both honored and doubly damned how
dare I to protest. when she called one of her minions
in my desparate need. I'm the man who wears the moon
for a head I just can't decide which is worst. to die
each day to rise again or to rest and remain dead.
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
insignificance
how many pills will it take this time to feel less insignificant
less overshadowed, outshined, and unvalued
four were fairly effective a little earlier
lets see what six does for me this time
maybe ten would make more sense, perhaps twenty
I'm so sick of sucking condescension
grateful for the crumbs tossed my way
like a rat or a beggar for attention
it hurts, the pain is horrendous beyond comprehension
what if I accidently take too many?
I've kicked the ass of the ghost of christmas past
whose led me to this dread, this cruel and insufferable
christmas present
I've had quite enough, I don't want to see the future.
I may be done. I have enough, well we'll see
when these six kick in, if they're enough to coat the raw nerve
then one more respite for the night I will allow
but I hear the death watch calling closer a little stronger
each time
my disillusionment is saturating me.
no one should be this alone
lonely like a piranha feeding frenzy
absolute consumption.
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
Rolled Over
sitting in the rain at this bistro table
people walking by
cannot tell nor care
whether my face is wet with rain or tears
I think my flesh is melting
slowly slipping off my bones
beneath my clothing
I am turning invisible
only creatures who matter in this world
remain corporeal
but we forgotten nether unloved ones
are off in shadows sucking guns
or silently hanging from rope on riggeded up bars
or sobbing in our locked up cars swallowing seconal
with whiskey in our smokey garages.
And all we miserable creatures ever ask of life
is to be special in someones heart
lacking that is a deal breaker on everything
........on everything
Why oh why? can't I cry you into existence?
(to be discontinued)
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
no loneliness this complete
How I wish sometimes, the words I read would not dissolve
in my eyes as the ink on the paper is absorbed
aetherically with every word I read and with every atom of each
feeling written-
.....I am bombarded;
that which makes my heart, my heart;
whatever that light coming from eyes is
that lets you know I still am among you,
Is assaulted
Hmm.
The great saviour surrogate touch:
contact by proxy for this emergency.
This furious desert of corporeal touch.
When I get letters from him,
I sit, crosslegged, in the middle of the room,
intently cutting away as much of the bare white paper
from the ink of the written words
until I have a tiny pile of the words
the words he has written to me without a thought.
I savor them as I chew and suck at them
as slowly as I can in my erect ectasy.
It's come to this.
a creature so pathetic
after your first inclination to kick him to shit in the gutter
The most humanitarian action
would be to give him a balloon of pure white
and the necessary rig
And for the grieving sake of Christ Almighty
let me go home
please
let me restI wish the ink in the words I read would dissolve
in my eyes
and give me communion
someone touch me
please, just let me know I exist
today
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
Untitled #1
Yea, have I too
been slowly climbing up
from deeper darker days
wishing now
that I know I am beautiful
I could reach out my hand
to connect with one
descending from his plateau
Once; but no longer yours,
and lo, I have heard thee sing
in such tender voice
I fear I did weep
for your words did come
as though they were keys
carved of precious stone
and though this is crazy foolishness
they did open up my heart
and if the wild and hungry horses
and the rest of such long locked up and lonely forces
come on too earnestly
and no one is standing there
Still I know I still can hear the voice whose name
I fear to speak.
And with a true
Fare Ye Well
I am On My Way
I will not allow any spite filled things to let me sink
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
Untitled #1 (with a couple adjustments)
Yea, have I too
been slowly climbing up
from deeper darker days
wishing now
that I know I am beautiful
I could reach out my hand
to connect with one
descending from his plateau
Once; but no longer yours,
and lo, I have heard thee sing
in such tender voice
I fear I did weep
for your words did come
as though they were keys
carved of precious stone
and though this is crazy foolishness
they did open up my heart
and if the wild and hungry horses
and the rest of such long locked lonely forces
come on too earnestly
and no one is standing there
Still I know I will hear the voice whose name
I fear to speak.
And with a true
Fare Ye Well
I am On My Way
I will not allow those spite-filled things to let me sink
ICQ # 83302626
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
Untitled ll
When
I breathe in
I am filled with exotic smoke
and the dead air of empty rooms and rusty fishhooks
painted with pictures of pretty memories
painted with imaginary pictures
of someone who refuses to exist
And
I breathe out because I must
it is my one opportunity to let go of
some of the ashes
that collect around my charcoal heartOk.
this breath goes out to ask
was there an answer in your exhale?
you owe nothingI breathe madness don't even know
what the question is just some impulseto reach outI am preparing to
saddle my pain forget about it
this breathing in
breathing out is just an invitation
forget about it
Because when I climb in my saddle there will be no more
of this endless wretched inhaling and exhaling
on my wild ride down the deep sucking vortex of madness
Oh, but as I gallup round and down and around
my hair will whip about wild and savage
no one will be there to cry
no one will see how beautifuly
I ride into oblivion.
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
starving
just touch me
or I will become invisible
if no one holds me
I'll not swallow another morsel
I will not ingest anymore material
from this godforsaken
lonely lonely
lonely lonely
lonely lonely
sad as hell
killing placewatch as I fade
glistening wet with tears
this is for real
last call
before I disap-
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
Will.
it's just, I remember those younger badder better days
when our mutual depravity was still innocent
before AID's changed all that
Will, Fuckin Will man, I love ya dude. Wherever you are now.
Oh you fucker, Will. I will love you always
no matter what you've done
no matter the words they say you said.
Your the one taught me to turn a trick
gather some real dope soap...and it's just, I remember how our bodies
connected,
locked together, really
and we were in it together
nothing too heavy but
we sure could heat up Prairie Street after darkWhere are you now?
Wonder if you could be found?
Oh Will Oh willow blond
eyes the color of blue as summer days
that are rich and softly balmy.
My love, once owned, is for life.
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
Surrender
I am empty.
fill me
so you can see me
so you can feel me.Kill me
for I am empty
the last liar I believed
left holes in the bottom of my soulI retain nothing.
invisible. good for no-one
I have only woe
to bringpush me.
the needles didn't work.
drag me over rock to a high place
and throw me overI am a shell
lost to lock and key
this undeserved sorcerer's spell
has left me unloveableand love was all I had
to make me believe my worth
to believe the value of breath
and not surrender to the embrace
of death.
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
Moon As My Witness
mountain stream
rocks tumble and batter
dark road pick-up truck
drunken voices shouts and laughter
the moon as my witness
breaking sticks upon head and back
clothes stripped naked
forcing rocks inside me then
dragged by my dick into the back
big strong men forceme fuckme
call me faggot
moon as my witness
thrown like garbage
in the brush by the road
as their brutal laughter
finally fades to distance
moon as my witness
I hear the rocks tumble
inside my guts
as I lay battered
they say the moon is a harsh mistress
if there is a god I pray
she is as harsh a witness
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
For You
i
would drink your poison
and pass you the key
i
would hold you
only as long as you desireand if you have no crime
in your heart
then you have no passion
it is absinthe i would drink
from your lips
milk is for the childi
can make love
from a million miles away
if but permission is granted
there is no question of
deserve or not deserve
where my desire has been summonedand when you pull away
i too draw ever closer
my fire burns ever deeper
all i require
is your momentary surrenderforget your external body
that is not the source
of my love-making
I know you are no neophyte!
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
wildflowers
with care I make my way through
the wildflowers of the prairie
the so called weeds as the locals say
small leaf-cuts and thorn pricks
simply enhance the corporality of the way
some of the orange ones make me sneeze
in cathartic delight
my flesh expands to absorb the balmy sun
and I make sure I am far from any hardworking farmers crop
or home
the stick of the match is my acusation of cruelty which I point.
the flame
dear god the flame is everything I thought life would be
I am a monk driven to the ultimate protest
as the fire makes my hair blaze glorious for a moment
and consumes me along with the wildflowers of the prairie
I loved so much
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
Douglas Hall
Smooth soothing well oiled wheels
turn behind these eyes
Jonnys pacing the length of the room
occasionally picking up imaginary objects
he likes to shout "Oh shut up"
Rosalie is taking care of her twins
keeping there invisible behavior quite in line
she's a good mother, her love seems endless
And I count the brain cells scattered on the floor
wondering why no one sweeps them up as they deepen
and deepen
and I continue to fill cups with tears
offering a toast to everyones mental health
but I'll send no invitations
to my party
it's a party of one in my private room
blue jeans ok, but
rope necktie required
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
God at a Loco Landfill
Oh god these crumbling blocks
falling in pebbles and rocks
yet avoid the butterflys
and when I smell you swelling
on a western wind
fragrant dry and ominous
I laugh in memory
of your scary tornado ride
through forests
schools
and cemetaries
we are all made of clay after all
and you paint us up in such lovely colors
and dreams
then leave us dangling by the neck
from our belts
in the darkness of our weary worn rooms
stinking of death and suffocated ragethe corn thanks your rain for its
flower
while another place collapses in mud and disappears
your power is endless, yet you choose to use a caine
to start the rift among us all
I fall and my head rolls over there
bone china legs and arms akimbo
keep dancing obscenely
torso cracked open reveals
a spirit with multiple contusions, abrasions
and lacerations.
Oh when did my amusement park
become the loco landfill
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
earth calls at night
I listen as the crickets sing to the night-time
where an abysmal breeze too wet to cool seeps through the dirty screens
and from my back porch I hear the steady lonely thrum and humming
of tens of hundreds of tires runnning across the distant pavement
an occasional waft of corn-pollen reminds me where I live
as a one quarter moon slips silently behind midnightblurred clouds
I know I'm the only soul awake for miles around
who hears each movement of this grand bug symphony
but my solo heart knows no rest, it is impossible to sleep
when I can smell the rich dark earth
how she calls me to her breast
to put away the triviality
the vanity
and all my tattered frivolous dreams
her lullabyes make it irresistable
not to curl up in a blanket of soil
and lay my head down and forget for good
forever in her embrace.
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
-INTEGRATE
you have the power
see how you are encapsulated
in that irridescent rainbow bubble of protection
that NO other force can penetrate
excise this malignancy which tries
to strangle you, to isolate you
to consume you
INTEGRATION
already IS
if you but decree it so.
May the earth spirits rise up to keep you resolute
May the creatures of the sky lift your consciousness
that you may remember who you are
May you embrace the infinite flame
to claim the power you own
May the inexorable pull of all the waters
draw away any that would harm thee
so mote it be!!!
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
Too Quick to Wrongful Make
No no no
spill those golden cups
let the sun melt down the ice
to free the fool frozen there
who is too quick to jump
to damn the rivers
whose moon cratered heart
lets fly the dust that obscures
the silver truth
who bows now ever humble
on both knees bent
before this one
I would deign to wish
to call a lover
and call to ye gods
most heaven sent
I would grovel in these cinders
this dirt, the mud, you call your wish
and I most gladly will succumb
if you will but take my reaching hand
I have no more to offer thee
but to do your bidding lord if you will
but take my reaching hand.
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
autocrat
you held my existence on the tip of your tongue
enjoyed the cuts and runs
from this barbwire vest
you made espescially for me
when you reward me with a kiss
I'm left spitting razor blades
and trying not to strangle on the blood
but you kick my ass with kindness
hour honesty will strike a savvy man with blindness
oh how I
how I love you
you could have finished the job but you didnt
oh how I love you
you cultivated my trust
just so you sould stomp me to dust
oh god knows how I love you
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
Rage
I am not liked, never for long anyway
My earliest memories are of living under siege
Never fails when I open myself
never FUCKING fails they stampede
I have been taught well
I'm just your goddamned fucking nogood piece of ordinary shit to be
scraped off the heel of yer boot
Out on your world I absorb so many opinions
Oh yeah I'm your run of the mill cocksucking simpering queerboy
I wear the words as scars, they make a pattern upon my flesh
Mine own brother doth call me outre'
Among my own who are not my own I am
your nuisance, the maddening buzz
in your ear, I am the burr in your boot
Gay community did not accept my kind
yeah I was stamped and graded not good enough, not queer enough
The mental community after one
glance no longer sees me
That boy he be trouble
he is not our kind, well grind me down then,
sharpen your hateful knives on my aching bones
I thought, oh my god I foolishly thought
you could see me but your gaze went on by
to the shadow what lurks behind
I have lost faith in an impotent god
who could create a life that is such a fraud
All my tears have turned to ice
stalactites then stone . Iam 44 and still
alone. I wish I had a gun, if I can get
my hands on one, oh how I will caress
the barrel, I will polish it with my tongue
I will give it the final fellatio, the ultimate blowjob
Oh just kidding, dont you sweat it
I'm not killing myself, nuh uh
this pain, the torture I realize with every breath
is much too exquisite to miss
Why would I wish to escape this world, this
perfect pearl
where unceasing torment goes to the cellular leval
You'd better lock your doors
and bar your god-damned windows
you better hide from what you've created
I have become darkness
and violence
incarnate
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
glass ball
curled tight and naked
vacuum-sealed in an unbreakable
glass ball
People out about their daily routine
often don't even notice when I go rolling by
24 hours 7 days my view is nonstop
face in the pavement ass in the air
I roll
ass in the grass and face in the sky
side rolling
constant flash of street and tree and skyscraper
blinking round and round
like a strobing film from the early thirties
my ball, being programmed to stop for lights
often catches the ash from some man's cigar
while waiting for red to green
I have learned to be silent
within my glass ball
no one hears anyway
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
when the earth weeps obsidian
her tears dry as translucent dropsof volcanic glassvitreous rockof Apache
ancientswho could see so far into futureit made them weep.my body drips
with obsidianfrom my ears, my wrists, my fingers, and neckI am wet the
with petrified tears of our Earth in flesh I am a spoiled american white
boy. in heart I am a Hopi Shaman
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
walks in a whirl
thinking deeply in a forest
encounters squirrel busy at his winter store
after walks in a whirl whirls by
squirrel stands looking after, rubbing his chin
squirrel lives deep in a wooden cavern
in the base of an ancient oak tree in mountain countrywalks in a whirl
has traveled many valleys
chosen with great care
he has a talent for finding the magic ones
-except the day squirrel rubbed his chin?
on that day walks in a whirl whirled into a magic
he had never encountered before
he whirled into a valley with no end
walks in a whirl whirled into a world without end.
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
love
if you love me
stop stop stop stop
with the nounsthey are very pretty
they hang nicely on my wall
stand handsomely on my mantelif you love me
that is very very nice
please and thank you
so are my mannerswhat are we going to do?
how can our words build
bridges and break down wallscan you verbalize an arm
around these shaking shoulders
can you speak lips against lips
will you pronounciate your hand
on my most ancient placeI am tired
so very tired of words
that come with gummy backs
you can stick them anywhere
no matter how sincerewords
do not keep me warm in bed
do not have hands to pull
the sweat from my fevered browI break every rule laid
every smart ideal made anyhow
doo do do do do
don't mean jack when Jack
is only a word
every need my body heart and soul has
is starved when left only with words
thus says your crowned joke laureate
your bastard starving bard
Ha! Ha! Charade we are.
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
just when i was good
just
when i was good
the bass c note sounds
on the grand piano
foot remains on the sustain
but I am not sustained
and just when i was good
I am straining to remain
like these dense low flowing fingers of fog
slowly finding there way up the cliff from the sea
how you can barely see the deep ochre sliver of moon
as she begins to search for the night
as my heart searches for a sign
as the fog fingers its way through rock crevass
I find that bass c note once again
foot on sustain but how long i can remain
hanging on to the decay of that note floating off
to meet the moon somewhere in the night
i think of you i think its alright but i am filled with fright
for all these fog-filled moon-lit promises where
a bargain is struck and if too late I have forgotten to duck
I shall run across the ivory keys over their booming protest
to dive into the darkened morass;
just when i was good
for M Rayner© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
daughters of reality
yes I like it too like its simple like its fresh falling water calling
daughters from deep fresh splenders to touch me newly in nudities innocence
our bodys incense combine insensed resplendent devine she placed his
hand in mine this lovely girl gave this man his hand with no twisted
sick demand to fulfill the need borne as natural as the seed sporne
simple as fresh as flesh that natural as the rain holds no genuine love
in disdain these daughters of the earth these daughters of desire given
only to aspire that all normal fruits of nature live true to each their
own nomenclature that no one tear asunder with false thunder and accusations
of perversion these lovely pure and nubile daughters of gods true nature
that all men may love as is given in their living sense of natural refreshing
fulfilment gods bless these hallowed daughters of nature, of mountain
tops and falling rocks, of lightning bolts and comets strokes, for reminding
us of the immensity of university and how very tiny the atomic anatomy
of mens minds be. © 2001 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
Nobodys Children
In the dark damp chilly forest
we all were drawn to the light
from a fire over there in the distance
And one by one from every direction
we softly settled down
strangers all, weary with our burdens
aching and alone
we formed a rag tag circle
in silence
each with our own grief to mourn,
Then someone pulled out a piece of bread
and passed it round for all to pinch
much comfort was found in the single shared swallow
and another produced an old bottle of some herbal brew
the contents barely covered the bottom
but the single drop passed round for each
did more than slake our thirst
then one lady finessed a flute
a young man tapped a drum
the crone back in the darkest shadow
made her harmonica do good work
soon one single entity was born
none had previous known
one with many names like joy and sharing
and comraderie
but never called Alone
© 2001 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
O Rodman O Godman you really can be an Oddman,
but I would walk till I wore holes in the soles of my shoes
if it were for something deemed important to you
I would hitch-hike from here to Reno in this unpredictable season
with the only impetus your saying its important as the reason
Rod man, Oh God, man King of the Universe might be a bit of a stretch
But a Good man I am proud to call Friend man, you're quite keen with
verse
And never shall I be party to blackguard one who has been so kind to
this wretch.
In your liege,
Mykael
No-One Tear Asunder
I'm sorry if I'm walking slow
someone shot me in the hip
and now my cool has a limpcome, come follow me today
(these thoughts keep following)
to a place where thick soft grass grows
along the bank of a river
(just outside the mouth of a cavern)my shaman said its time to share
(you laying there in thick grasses
outside the caverns open mouth)
certain golden secrets to one I deem worthy
(my tongue could trace the outline of your lips)I've heard the readiness
in your voice to take
on this knowledge
(as you open my shirt and run your hands across
the taught smoothness you feel my pounding drum)
Feel the moist warmth of my breath whisper
incantations in your earthere is no surprize its only natural as
poppies grow erect and in bloom surrround us
our clothing simply disappears
I've been waiting light-years not a second sooner
(and now I taste that special taste that identifies as
only you, I savor your every in and outside place)I teach you so cleverly
to change your groans
and howls and whimpers to cogent sounds
that create for us a communion no other creature
has ever known as simultaneously we enter each others
body as together we stroke inside each other at the same
time.You understand now the importance of secrecy
for the scalding jealousy and disbelief would have
them rip us with scorn and possibley searching for
their hammers and nails and beams of wood.(for you, if you want, I'll
save the absynthe)
© 2001 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
Endangered Existential Lovers Species
He found me in a heap of tangled bone
torn leather broken wing
rough dark city left for dead and alone
against the concrete did I hear a voice singI dream't of strength held
secure below the sky
slowly slowly feeding on pomegranites
drinking endless cups of chai
I began to awaken, to feel the calling planetsThis kindred being, this
saviour mine
did awaken the hunger, the passion, my need
with explosions so brightly rocking me tenderly devine
to what black hole or super nova was this to lead.My last thought as
a dark sun rose over that frigid windy morn
to what end, what impossible purpose was I even bornMykael Eagleton-Mize
Don't Touch This 2001?Go drink your rancid toast
of blood
how ridiculous
is it cool?
is that the pose
is the camera readyspoiled?
you know nothing
selling myself
for a fix
to stay wellwatching fine educated
good hearted friends
turn bright yellow and bloat
and die
turning ashen grey and skeletal
and dieday after day after god-damned day
until I plunged my body with meth
injected body so meth saturated
I ran screaming crazy ripping with razors
up and down my arms
vertically
and every which waycan I fill vyour cups?
are you still thirsty
come and take a drink
they took me away
they locked me up
they strapped me downI spit their vile food back in their faces
this is the world that was taking away
everybody and everything
that ever meant anything to meI dont want fucking sympathy
I want to be heardI came hear to express myself freely
without expectation of being fucked withI have been fucked with for
no reason
I fuck back i fuck back hardthe streets taught me hard magick
steele magick what you deal slaps you
down times ten magickjust leave me alone!!!!!!!!!
© 2001 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
night passage
Aye, I
am just too tired
of awaking reaching knowing
once again, as always my fingers will be greeted
by that cold empty space -in the dark
on those kicking tossing swearing nights
while sleep stands watching, cross-armed
and sneering from the foot of my bedyour place that once was filled
with warmth, your comforting mumbles and
your arms wrapped around me when
I was overtaken by any sadness....
the memory still stabs and jerks
me in convulsions of anguishmy world will never be the same
and I just cant seem to grasp it
I'm unable to keep a hold on this
all I want is a little kindness
but there is little time in this world
for the gentle. Shape up or ship out!I imagine I will be booking passage
before too long. Life gets to be more
than one heart can afford. I am home-sick
I am longing to go home.Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Don't Touch This 2001Richard In AshesI sliced my arm to shreds with
a razor blade
I stained a lot of carpeting and furniture and stuff
Richard was deadI didn't know that much blood was in me
I screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed
Richard was still deadI screamed at god and screamed and screamed because
my Richard was dead
It was too much, it wouldn't fit inside my headmy Richard is dead.The
day before he died
his eyes were flat grey marbles
he didnt know who I was
I put my face right into his
he didnt know who I washe was my best friend
HE WAS MY BEST FRIEND
AND HE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW WHO I WAS
now my Richard is deadand Richards ashes were sprinckled
into the Pacific
from the shores of SAn Diego
and Richards ashes haunt me forever
in my dreamsAll of those partys and
All of those good times and
All of those bad times
and the speed spinning in our veins
we'd have all night jam sessionsor become roaming spectre's through
the citys alleys
we knew which dumpsters behind which stores on which nights
offered the best treasure to find
when our bounty grew too heavy we'd
go back and sniff up another gigantic linebut since Richards in ashes
without the needle, the ritual, a castle of crystal meth
it's just not enough
Like Icarus who flew too high the sun melted his wingsI crashed and
burned, my spirit broken doesn't matter
if I live, I'd rather die
cause Richards in ashes
I cannot even cry
in this wilderness they have run dry.
© Mykael Eagleton Mize
Don't Touch This 2001/Space Faktory Musick/
Random Axe of Blindness/Queer Notions/
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
Sonnet No. 3
splintery old wooden chair
how it sits there mute with all it secrets
even while these tell tale rope burns
on my wrists remain red accusation
my storys' stuck in my ravaged throat
(you loved every thick inch you know you did)
my mouth too dry with dehydration
to even form the words I need to say
(I heard their beating wings gather on the roof)
to tell you tonight you'll need lubrication
(birds fly in black flocks in my dreams)
I like the song the insects sing todayaway away deliverance comes today
(birds fly in black flocks in my dreams)
©Mykael Eagleton Mize
Don't Touch This 2001
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
my heart is tired
my fingers so close to
-touching
I can feel the warmth
of your skin
-so close my hand trembles
in confusion
wanting
to complete the connection
but you are asleep
to my feeling
and to indulge my passion
would be a trespass.I beseech ye daughters
of desire
to pull away my arm
fast and clean.
It is not the way
never could I soil
such precious flesh
it smells of alpine lupine
and the mist of salty breakers
upon the rocks
©Mykael Eagleton Mize
Don't Touch This 2001/Space Faktory Musick/
Random Axe of Blindness/Queer Notions/
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
~@~ ~@~ ~@~ ~@~ ~@~ ~@~ ~@~ ~@~ ~@~daughters of desire
yes
I like it too
I like it simple
like its fresh
falling
water
calling daughters
from deep fresh splendours
to touch me newly
in nudities innocence
our bodys incense combine
incensed, resplendent, devine
she placed his hand
in mine
this lovely girl
gave this man his hand
with no twisted sick demand
to fulfill the need borne
as natural as the seed sporne
simple and fresh as flesh that
clean as the rain
holds no genuine love in disdain!
these daughters of the earth
Oh treasured daughters of desire
given only to aspire
that all normal fruits of nature
live true to each their own
nomenclature
let no one tear asunder
with sick yellow false thunder
and accusations of perversion
these lovely pure and nubile
daughters of gods true nature
that all men may love as is given
in their living sense of natural
refreshing fulfilment
gods bless these hallowed daughters
of nature,
of mountain tops
and falling rocks,
of lightning bolts
and comets strokes,
for reminding us of the immensity of university
and how very tiny the atomic anatomy of mens minds be.
©Mykael Eagleton MizeDon't Touch This 2001/
Space Faktory Musick/Random Axe of Blindness/Queer Notions/ Reproduction
is prohibited without express permission of the author.
pulled apart
I am pulled apart I
don't know why
my never give up
keeps pushing my
tired of it all
and I find myself
lost doing things I
never expected to
I am pulled apart by
my fuckem all I'll
show them in this
badly directed case
of self destruction
but I am succeeding
in falling apart fading
away and disappearing
in my auto-infection of
malnutrition I just say no
you can pull it apart but
I wont swallow a morsel
©Mykael Eagleton Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author
Peregrine
A pair of wings
ephemeral shadows
glide across the canyons floor
whispers echoe
paranoid paragraphs
of empty promises
as a pair of peregrine falcons
light on the vulnerable perch
with their personal power
upon the peak
of extinction.
©Mykael Eagleton Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author
Falls like pain
deep in the night
a far away hill
under a so low moon
it falls like pain
as unrelenting as the rain
the bricks dont stop
the crushing metal
shattering glass in my face
the roar of frozen time
does nothing
to welcome me in this place
wake myself up screaming
swearing and crying
this is real, still, I don't
remember what it was
I was dreaming
want to believe God
is for a reason
but sweet naievity
bludgeoned by depravity
has left me vacant
a moving car with no driver
©Mykael Eagleton Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author
Walpurgisnacht
in the long ago days when brilliant birds flew from your mouth
and your eyes were in constant bloom
when the language of dreams and laughter and hope
still filled my vocabulary
we decorated our home with Peter Max and lived
in a Maxfield Parrish world.
my scapulae were growing, growing daily a little larger
I didn't mind the sorreness, the tenderness
where the feathers were beginning to unfurl
And then Good Friday, the 13th came
un-natural disaster
the capriciousness of God
stretched upon a rack
my budding wings were bloody
ripped from my back
tongue harpooned and yanked out
eardrums pierced with sharpened sticks
then my eyes were branded with white hot
iron x's.
I wish the treatment were complete
why oh why
I have been gentle and kind, compassionate
and naieve
Was I some horrific monster in a lifetime
before this?
Knowing my spirit, I cannot believe this
could be true.
I have been cut off
a derelict ship drifting
cold and dark and aimless
through the universe
an eternal dark night of the soul
my private unending Walpurgisnacht
©Mykael Eagleton Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author
August
( evolving through
little epiphanies)
I shall sit on this boulder
by the water
wielding my pin
to record the things
life has carved upon my heart
Beneath this painfully exquisite infinite sky
where magic kingdoms float with lazy timeless patience
drifting along like immense anciente Clippers on the sea
even as I listen, the gulls and albatrosses song
stir me with an emptiness, and longing for what, I know not
and I find my thoughts turning
to things I once held so important
realizing these are things
that will never be important again
If only life were so simple to lie here feeling the glory
in the soughing of the cool/warm wind
entwining its soothing yet some-how melancholy fingers
through the whipping rushes and rattling brush
but dusting off my jeans
I rise, as I must, to face inland
away from all my olde dreams
as the waves wash them away, away out to sea
Now I turn my eyes up to capture the fire of the sun
let it burn away the tears that through the years
used to run trying to fill the ocean below
The roar I unleash makes the trees quake
when I rip my shirt
heaving, rising, pumping, my naked chest
Reveals the pounding pulsing presence of a heart that
is broken
that is breaking to the beat of a solitary rhythm
I must answer and can not question
to the wildnerness that is calling
calling me back home
as primal as the blood that courses through my veins.
©Mykael
Eagleton Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author
I Am
No Soldier
I am no soldier
yet daily I march
among trenches treacherous
with vipers coiling and climbing
up my legs
some sucking my life force
some injecting poison
with smiling shining seduction
I have been conditioned to
ignore them
to adorn myself
with their wrapping around my neck
and head cocked like I'm clever
paying those devils minions
to splash their bottled venom
upon my vulnerable naked body
to pour their caustic extrusion
down my dehydrated throat
I am no soldier
yet everyday I go to battle in my personal
citizen assault vehicle, filling it with
toxins acquired at the cost of mens lives
so that I may wander blithely spewing
people plant and planet poison
making the simple natural act of breathing deadly
so that may have instantly delivered
filthy food composed of decomposing
animal corpses that required enough food to feed
five hundred people to satisfy my tongue for one meal
to consume and consume like a planetary pestilence
more than my share , more than my need
and the vapours from my endlessly spewing
assault vehicle is melting the very sheltering sky
so hundreds of thousands more animals and people
will slowly die from starvation and rotting skin
falling from crying childrens dieing bones.
I am no soldier
yet everyday I remain silently watching
while another prison is being built
to lock up people whose only crime is to
seek the relief from oppression our
government keeps illegal because its
so much more profitable, and so much easier
to manipulate these downtrodden ones
and keep them in their place By God,
Under One Nation, Under Their Thumb-
YES our sacred democracy, I SPIT
it is all just a hypocracy
and I have contributed to this obscenity
for which there are no parental warning labels
I am no soldier
I just stand in horror as our government
leads the United Nations and global triumvirate,
of US Chinese Soviet multi national corporate
oppression that builds and swells and is chipping away
bit by bit and more each day the Fantasy, the GREAT LIE
of civil rights while we busily bomb and spend vulgar sums
to harass the middle east and divert attention
making sure we keep that poisonous gas
and the true powers of an elite few
feast upon the fat
while forgotten Africa languishes
in mind numbing anguish while her people suffer
unspeakabley obscene torture and disease
and women suffer at the hands of the Talaban
less valued than pigs and goats
mutilated in their most sacred parts
for the sin of being human they cut their throats
No I am no soldier
but everyday has become a battle
to stay alive and not murder
a battle even to not murder myself
to escape this roiling planet boiling in hell ,
leaving one less mouth to feed
one less American to breathe
but I am weak and frightened, for
I am no soldier
I am gay, ssshhhush!
No tell, Go To HELL!
Long, long ago this nation
cracked her own Liberty Bell
©Mykael
Eagleton Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author
Enola-alonE
[gay]
I dreamed I was a ghost
wailing in the silence
and the heat and the dust
and the death
on the day after Hiroshima
sucked into empty rooms
looking through the sockets
of the windows
of partially standing skeletal
buildings
there were no floors beneath my feet
I could see the permanent imprint
of tears seared into the air
I was wailing I was a ghost
the most substantial movement there
the smell
of pain and confusion and
fear was splashed in stains
upon the churned charred and scorched
earth.
here, on earth.
And this is what I dreamed before we
spent the day that day in the zoo
and while we had stopped to take a rest
I asked you, I said, this may be a dumb
thing to ask you, but I really want to know
Can you say anything at all what its like
living with HIV?
(dear god this is true) you thought a moment
then said, its like waking up the day after
Hiroshima
©Mykael Eagleton Mize
Don't Touch This 2001/
Space Faktory Musick/Random Axe of Blindness/Queer Notions/
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
light
in your eyes
oh
to be the light in your eyes
to be the one you look for
and listen to
especially
to be
that
for anyone
would give me every reason to live
oh the melting, such melting
to recieve your sweet willing to give
people are peculiar
the way they fall
to pieces
when they are bereft
left
with none of these reasons
the season of softness drys
crumbles
blown away with the wind
throwing away
my will to live
©Mykael Eagleton Mize
Don't Touch This 2001/
Space Faktory Musick/Random Axe of Blindness/Queer Notions/
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
untitled;
june 18
words drop from your mouth
into the lies and dust and
shell-casings that roll and scatter
and blow
at my defeat
You knew all along all you had to do
was aim at my vulnerable conceit
to bring me down.
lame deer in the snow
add a notch to the stock
cowards trophy to show.
but I pray to my God
(is he your God too?)
to thicken my skin if I must
continue to be prey
and please humor my pretensions
my feeble conceits have been hard won
so often the hunted, the haunted
to despise cruelty in anyone
I much prefer to swirl in the dust and flowers
and broken promises alone
than to be caught in the cross-hairs
of your pretty vacant words
©Mykael
Eagleton Mize
2001/Space Faktory Musick/
Random Axe of Blindness/Queer Notions/
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author
changing
yang
the will of yen tumbles over the yang again
and again, occasionally the fullness of yen
becomes double yen before itself becomes yang
just as the fullness of yang becomes the yang
plus yang
-hard pressed against the soft slick with sweat
-steam freighters thrusting up mountains cleft
-the miles upon centuries long withdrawal from
the sweet clinging glove
gripping pulling milking
as my life goes racing round my head in this
unbearable tortuous rapture
at the very highest peak, higher than anyother
has discovered, I see Everest far below
I must begin my slow and tender plummet
control my fall into infinity
thorough to investigate every tiny crevasse
even as my partner rises up to meet me
wild earth-quaking anticipation,
the sooner I crash, to greet me
Oh this yang changing yang to yen
I recall with such tactile memory
though I know not how long it has been
birds of the darkness would know and trees
living in a far-away parks night-time dream
could tell you
how long this vacant spot aches to be filled
deep inside of me... inside of me... in sodomy
©Mykael Eagleton Mize
2001/Space Faktory Musick/Random Axe of Blindness/Queer Notions/
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
...these
are the things
Oh dinosaur, T Rex you sure made your guitar roar....
I had 10" platforms and rhinestoned denim,
show ya every inch in my silver black lame`
I shake Ziggy from my hair pickin Iggy from my teeth
ride a mean Eno Ronson on a Hoople Roxy Ferry
Oh oh these are the things dreams were made of
worshiping the stage-christs of foot-lights and acid
we were prettier than most of the girls
and our cocks grew much bigger than they do anymore
MDA made us fuck-monkeys years before your XTC
with joints dipped in DMT we became human rockets
exploring the extremities of extacy for 30 minutes exactly
Oh oh those were the days that dreams were made of
we were gods we were gorgeous and the sacred party
never ended for twenty years non-stop-
till someone turned on the lights
and what we saw sent us all screaming in horror
for any corner or hole to hide away from the savage
hand of time like vampires surprized by sunrise.
Oh! oh, and yeah .... these ARE the things
that dreams were made of.
©Mykael Eagleton Mize
2001/Space Faktory Musick/
Random Axe of Blindness/Queer Notions/
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author
Changing Yang
the will of yen tumbles over the yang again
and again, occasionally the fullness of yen
becomes double yen before itself becomes yang
just as the fullness of yang becomes the yang
over yang which then again returns to yen
hard pressed against the soft slick with sweat steam freighter thrusting
up mountains cleft, the miles upon centuries long withdrawal from
the sweet clinging glove gripping pulling milking
as my life goes racing round my head in this unbearable tortuous rapture
at the very highest peak
higher than any other has discovered
I see Everest
far
below
I
must begin my
slow and tender plummet
control my fall into infinity thoroughly investigating
every tiny crevasse even as you rise up, the sooner to meet me
my partner the Earth quaking wild in anticipation the quicker to crash
in greeting
Oh! this yang over yang changing yang to yen
I recall with such tactile memory
though I know not how long it has been
birds of the darkness would know
and trees living in a far-away parks night-time dream
could detail you the summer sounds and smells
I loved so well
and oh how long and long this vacant place has had a yen
this angry clawing feral hungry aching gnawing need
to be filled deep inside of me... deep inside of me..
inside of me.. inside of me.. inside of me ...in sodomy
©Mykael Eagleton Mize/2001/
Space Faktory Musick/Random Axe of Blindness/Queer Notions/
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author
Dogged
Did you call my name just to watch me wag my tail?
I think you did
I think you did
Did you whistle for the satisfaction of watching me run
you know you did
you know you did
and when I came to you with big trusting eyes
you pet me so nice saying "good boy" lies
just to watch the hurt, the painful surprize
when you kicked me in the dirt laughing when I yelped
were you satisfied?
does cruelty to dumb trust fill you with pride
I'm through crying inside
I've gone all dead inside
If you think you can toss me a bone
well I'd rather starve instead
tail between my legs
I'll flinch if you raise a hand to touch me again
tail between my legs
when I slip away you'll never see me again
©Mykael Eagleton Mize/2001/
Space Faktory Musick/Random Axe of Blindness/Queer Notions/
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author
all
too common song
when I looked into your chocolate eyes
the temptation was overwhelming to devour them
but I promised myself the last time that on the next time
I would be patient I would move so slow
but melting chocolate and my tongue overpowered me
and once again I cry cry cry as I watch you go
is it wrong to want to hold you?
I can see in your eyes you want it too
but you can't own up to the fact
I know that you like girls, I never questioned that
why why oh why do you deny
its so obviously electricity between you and me
this attraction your not man enough to admit
just a human thing a tender thing you toss like garbage and try to forget.
©Mykael Eagleton Mize/2001/QuickSand Ballet
as such
I wish words were like cells or molecules’n such
and letters something like atoms or dna
then I could repair my brain’n make it as fresh and bright
as it was before I attacked it with about every recreational drug
that has ever been available, in every concievable combination
administered through every possible form
in every imaginable part of the body.
I once was able to think so quickly and balance and juggle
so many things at once
when I was bored if I wanted to hear music when none was available
why I scored entire symphonys in my head
such beautiful moving vital rounds I conducted
with exquisite sensitivity
a master on every brass and wood and string
an exotic virtuoso in an incredible infinitely varied rhythm section.
....and then
if I had such raw creative building power with letters and words
right away, I could pen my life companion
write away my loneliness, type my soul-mate immediately
no more years upon more of them stretching as far into the future
as I dread imagine
I could finally end this daily every second of every moment cancerous
acheing vacancy like a sordid neon motel sign forever flashing an
advertisement of to the marrow hopelessness.
but wishing upon words like wishing upon stars doesn’t get one
very
much
but it truly is the way I would prefer to end this whole comically horrific
quasi-tragic fairies tale -as such.
C Mykael Eagleton Mize/ 2001/ QuickSand Ballet/
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author
Thomas: Adonis of 7North
Arms, spectacular
couldn't widen my eyes enough
to take them in
to try them on
for sighs
tongue stung
too tied up to find the vernacular
my spirit skipped beats of my life
my heart juggles knives to think
they could be available to me
if only temporary and by condition
It's a price I'll pay
any price
or time of day
afraid to breathe for fear they'll
Leave!
Still!
They have been offered
those spectacular arms
charms of sinew
and tribal tattoo
If this is death
then leave me alone
Death never has adorned one so well.
© 2000 Mykael Eagleton-Mize
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
~and if you are really bored check out my pathetic web page or profile
-whatever: http://profiles.yahoo.com/blueray55
http://www.geocities.com/the_reading_room/mykael/mykael.html
You must think I'm less of a nut than I really am. Cheers.*M
