Second To All

But what I won’t do is refuse to choose that I don’t have any more love for you

Because if it wasn’t for you, my skull wouldn’t have a few short screws loose

I allowed you constant attention, for you were in despair over my affection

Here is time making it known that there’s only room for one

Here is time letting it be shown that in first place will be your son

In his eyes you see his mother

Will it be possible to find another

A woman with butter cream in her thighs and a steel plated heart

If empathy had ears, it could hear my footsteps strolling the path of your shoes

And if empathy had a tongue, it could taste every tear that died on my lips

Full of aches and salt, empathy has left me sorry and skinny

Much like you through and through, that baby boy will soon grow tall

Here is time handed to me upon a gold painted platter

Here is time showing mercy to none

Here is time calling to me, “You’ll always be second to everyone.”


Zero Hour


When will it end, or is it only beginning?

If we forfeit the game will it still feel like winning?

You were wonderful you know?

Never practiced but still stole the show

I was clapping for you in the first row

Flushed out my heart until it blended with the snow

I kept the summer out at arms length

Until zero hour, I needed you for strength

I hoped you needed me as much as I needed you

I wished you’d fight for me the way that I would fight for you

I wanted you to love me more than I loved you

Would you believe me if I told the truth?

Winter’s coming.

But for you, it’s nothing.

Can You Believe My Luck?


Leave me by train, and I’ll hijack the tracks

Buy a ticket for a plane, and I’ll bend the wing ’til it cracks

Determined to find you, I know where you come from

Hitting the spliff, stashing it back with the bottle of rum

On a subway station I swore I heard the croak of your voice

But what I saw wasn’t you and that had left me with no choice

Boiling, bubbling, and spiking with ardor

Came what I thought I couldn’t desire more

Drove off in a dirty crooked cab, did you catch my face in its rear view?

Pumping out poems every night, their lines weave words about you

Fumble through the shade, I’ll trail your foot prints through the woods

Deep within the barren trees where your beaten legs stood

 I’ll have you cornered, wrapped in branches in which you remain unfree

Here we are, eating stale silence. There is you, and then there is me

In your frantic search for a savior, you call out to God

And wale for your mother, too bad they’re both frauds

If you would just listen instead of making this a strain

The world could be mine if we both departed now in vain

Hand over your weary spirit, you won’t need it where you’re going

That essence you lug around needs much more than some sewing

Trust me if you will or don’t if you please

Never the less, you begin to writhe, putting my apprehension at ease

If you are feeling most brave then I almost dare you to speak

I’m tempted to peel off your vocals as you can’t make a squeak

I may allow a quick chase, but that would only be for fun

Will you not believe that through it all you’ve been my only one?



Cracked the crypt by candle light

Fast with fury and won the fair fight

Chomped through a cherry, didn’t choke

Broke bread with the beast until I woke

Saved all the selfless soldiers

If only the ocean grew older

Can you think the way I do?

Would you like yourself if you tried to?

The Light of The House


Waves of sound

 Continue rounds

Into the harbor where they wait to rise

Hide this glow

Where no would know

And protect my head with your sheer disguise

Shoot four guns

At lonely ones

Spark the burning of the light of the house

Make amends

Then pull again

The trigger that left nothing but a mouse

Etched in stone

Carved with a bone

Is the tale from the waters that flow deep

Made with haste

And bitter taste

Lies the winsome hope that they wish to keep

No One But You

cool girl.jpg

How gently I placed your now bluish face on top of your favorite pillow,

Kept in mind the fact that you had loved falling asleep on your tummy,

And how I thoroughly cleaned out the blood filled dirt from every pore on your skin,

Or how only nineteen days before that I had completely taken your breath away,

Baring down on your throat after our fight about who does the grocery shopping,

And the short amount of time it took to see the life in your dark, glossy eyes die,

Or how often I had threatened to leave you so that you’d have to grow old alone,

No one knows.

No one knows about our inevitable demise.

No one even says my name.

No one knows but you.

They haven’t heard my exaggerated tales of abuse,

My cunning lies to keep my devious persona satisfied,

The stories I told you in the dark while we linked together under the sheets,

Those songs we used to sing along to in the car while driving across the bridge,

My incessant whines that begged you to pay me your full attention,

The heavy moans, deep sighs, puerile cries, and all of our raillery.

Still, no one knows.

No one knows that the fault is of my own.

No one but you.

Luna Girls


Finally, my courage had been hooked and baited.

As steady as a mother’s hand, I took aim for the target.

She knew my intentions were unclear.

I’d hit the hot spot with a single shot.

I’d struck the dead center of her sternum.

That was the moment when her skin had lost its strawberries & cream,

She then became colorless, pale like the moon,

And as la luna does so with every passing night,

That very flesh glowed and beamed above my dreary head.

I watched her through a kaleidoscope.

Bit by bit, her blue eyes bursted until they

Were cascading down my cheeks like shattered pieces

of waterfall.

My thoughts were then laid to rest as every muttered word flowed straight back,

Twisting themselves in and out of my hair,

‘Til they were seeping down to the core of my splitting cerebrum.

There they stay, locked away,

Waiting for her heat that is the key.

Once unchained, she will call my name

And thus begins my misery.

Humanistic Psych. Much Love

Monkey Watch (after Jean-Pauk Sartre, Albert Camus, Bertrand Russell and the Myth of Icarus) Monkey senses things that are invisible to other minds. He knows that ink in a pen can run dry, that word flows can suddenly cease, that mechanical pencils can so easily break down into their component parts. New Year’s resolutions can […]

via Monkey Watch — rogermoorepoetdotcom

Hard Bodies


When I have no one’s chest to hide under,

and no other arm to rest my cheek upon,

no fingers to intertwine with my own,

and no one’s legs to pull down the weight of my knees,

no collar bone for me to brush my lonely lips across,

no one’s hair to conceal the smell of my repentance,

and no other voice to speak the syllables of my name,

no one’s eyes to watch over my breathe as I fall into a new dream,

and no other hips to press my palms into,

no one’s scars to trace or freckles to memorize,

no teeth to reprimand my childish lamentations,

and no shoulders that I can dig my chin into,

no other ears to tug on when I’m itching for affection,

no thighs that have the notion to wrap themselves around my waist,

no one’s tongue to break apart my quizzical demeanor,

and no hard body that I can throw my asperity up against

I feel ill.

Though certainly I’m not sick,

only heavy.