captaindirkus-blog

[captaindirkus-blog]

Mississippi woods.

[captaindirkus-blog]

Entranced. Endangered. Eros. Pray to Dionysus that she remains forever with me. Through every rebirth.

[captaindirkus-blog]

Get comfortable with being alone. It will empower you.

Jonathan Tropper (via onlinecounsellingcollege)

[captaindirkus-blog]

Nobody wants to hear this, but sometimes the person you want most, is the person you’re best without.

B.J (via lohver)

[captaindirkus-blog]

C. Bukowski

[captaindirkus-blog]

Loving people losing each other

when I rub my beard around my mouth my fingers are razors and your thighs scraping my skin clean in front of a mirror where, no matter how much guilt I have from any night my face reflects no metaphor because I am just like you are me all together the smooth sin of immorality your thighs clutching each side of my head while the muscles of your orgasm milk the pink tongue of my helpless hunger when we finally infinitely graze on each other across the pasture of every motel night sky falling deeper until either you or I bleed across concrete- the same hard end.

[captaindirkus-blog]

searching for the middle of an echo

my own space sometimes bent by yellow light greening my vision of golden enlightenment through the quiet houses of a city night never allotting myself the slowness of contentment greening my vision of golden enlightenment she says something cloaked by heavy breath never allotting myself the slowness of contentment could’ve been, I love you to death she says something cloaked by heavy breath words antique in their passion could’ve been, I love you to death mirror of the sun in full moon fashion words antique in their passion dragged from her mouth by the power of steam mirror of the sun in full moon fashion moth drawn to the lamp’s low wattage gleam dragged from her mouth by the power of steam her eyes wide with innocent seduction moth drawn to the lamp’s low wattage gleam another way love sucks you in her eyes wide with innocent seduction through the quiet houses of a city night another way love sucks you in my own space sometimes bent by yellow light

[captaindirkus-blog]

43 Cigarettes

On Front Street I watch elderly couples stroll along smug in their fraternity of dumb deer unawareness Have these people ever lost? Ever not known where to turn? 10th cigarette(((((((((((((((((((((((((((() gets me into absorption. Through shop windows I see content~ness and spit. On attempt of breaking antisocial sentiment I ask the writer on the bench if he’s seen anything good- Always good-he says I’m opposite-I reply Need a good balance-he advises Yeah-scratches out of my 18th cigarette(((((((((((((((((((((((((() Down Market Street in a breeze of cars and humidity she creeps up on my mind 22nd cigarette(((((((((((((((((((((() Nothing fixes the love lost in details An ex lover goes back to being who she was before I met her Now I self absorb making the break my cross because she is the one I fell in love with before all the details flamed like each match that lit today’s 43 cigarettes

[captaindirkus-blog]

Amanda Helm

[captaindirkus-blog]

Moping Sun

I stand next to my idling car

smoking a cigarette

watching

red tip tail lights dissipate

behind smoky sunset

I wave through the glow

-wanting to dip my hand in

and scoop out scarlet gold before it is drowned by darkness

-to snatch a bit of

moment

Icarus saw

                           reluctant to fall,

            I concede to my safety

-get into my car

and drive

the

other way.

A rusted sun moping

down the highway,

forgotten

[captaindirkus-blog]

Pathetic Fallacy

her spinal cord is a burning snake

listlessly rattling to some cryptic beat

Thum thump..   ttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt

                  thum thump..

                  thum thump…

beneath a cracked

               fish tank

   sky

she is asking why

       love seems fallacious,

why shadows exist

instead of

me

[captaindirkus-blog]

Failed Poem

this is a failed poem

not because it’s about some celebrity

it’s about being out here

in economic Siberia

with no wine

and no pot

down to my last Vicadin

which I’ve put off

until absolute necessity

                              now at 1:43 in the morning

                              the television is upsettingly plastic

        radio dj’s are plainly stoned

the serpent head of necessity has reared

and I wait to be swallowed by the drowsy

narcotic constrictor

Smoke instead of toothpaste

my mind lost in books

I become concerned that my own heat

may not exist because jerking off

is less exiting than powdered lemonade

and lately

I’ve been ejaculating oatmeal

Tell me of the woman who has witnessed

her own life unaddressed  

as dog piss in Asheville

She’s the one for me

Together we can achieve at least

a pile of shit steaming in a wonderland

                            twilight