Friday, May 18, 2012

I'm not coming home
and you cannot come
with me
we've had these days
to teach us
how to lose
we had those nights
sleeping together
when sometimes
you were my bed
we've had those nights
to learn how
to wake up
alone
I wish I could be waiting
at the door today
to dance for you
when you come
to chase you
with a smile
to feel you
as you felt me
I'm not coming home
I'm not coming
home
and you cannot
come with me

Title: Poem from Jagger(the dog)

This wine
makes the night hum
with a single candle
burning
to light my page
like a beacon
to the places
I'm seeking
the places
I sometimes find
at the end
of a bottle
of wine

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Description (abstract painting)

The ink seeps into the crevices of the canvas

Bleeds into the watercolors of blues

Words once written,

Now blurred

And we are left with a mess of

meaningless mixed medias

a dream

The sun was in my eyes and I awoke with the urge to draw.

The dream was funny and intense.
Dramatic.
Steep hills of rock climbing up you losing your breathe
clutching your chest
Altitude sickness
Sliding down clinging to each other
Holding on, climbing back up
Camels dusty and orange plateaus Sneaking about the sunset shadows
keeping quiet rocks tumbling,
Hiding from something....someone

Two opposing sides of royal power
Their sorceress mothers battle magic on behalf of their families honor
In smokey stonewall rooms
adorned with tapestries and shrouded intricacies
One distracting the other with puzzles fogging judgment
A colorful fight
They are equally enlightened
It ends friendly
For them
In a "why do we do it" sense
The matriarchs leave smiling
through dark stained glass candlelighting

While I find myself now on stage guitar in hand
Following your lead
Looking over
Trying not to be heard
Or seen
You sang and the fiddle fiddled
And we stomped our feet
sweat beaded on my brow
And there were faces in the crowd
Feeling like I was back in a grade school band room
Awkward and inexperienced
Turning to you for guidance

And the sun was in my eyes when I awoke with the urge to draw...

Wednesday, May 02, 2012

There’s a vascular thrust through me
When you voice the hate we breathe
I walk damp and painful miles
To climb in with you
My mouth speaks to you
I can only hear your thighs
You rattle and arch hard
Bleeding my shoulders with your crush
Your skin whispers truths
Your voice can only ruin
I’m sucking on your pelvic bone
Gripping at your ribs
And Between your best and my brow
I can see/watch your breasts sway
There’s a signal in your motions
To let me know you’re through
Before you beg me
To stop

-Joshua Fink

Fresh Meat

This is the line I’m in
That’s all I know
Seemingly innocuous
One foot
Other foot
One step
Next step
I keep wondering what waits
Behind the doors
I can’t see past everyone
Already proceeding forward
I feel worthless
A new and old stagnant drone
Pressing against the ones ahead
So you can catch my face
One step
Next step
I keep praying that I look right
For whatever this could be
I need this chance
I know this is going
Somewhere
That’s when the bolt pistol
Blasts nasty
Through the back of my head
I’m stunned and vacant
I keep pushing into the dark
I keep praying this mechanism saves me
One step
Next step
I’m blank today
I’m the carbon copy worker/soldier/slave
That you just might toss a bone
When you’re chains crush my ankles
And hoist me off to
Zero
I smell the blood
I taste the iron
But I’m too numb now
I’m too desperate
My head is vestigial
My heart has no voice
Was it a power tie and a six digit suit
Or a hard hat and white sterile cover-alls
That ushered my exsanguinations
Was it a pen or a blade
That hastily ravaged my arteries

-Joshua Fink