copyright 2007 Renee Elizabeth
"You Are Here"

You are here.

To think of here
or there,
I'd have had to ask where.

The inners of a void
en route.
Never blinking,
but, deluded.
The present
Terminably forming
and just as quickly slipping.

Why and when
shouldn't concern
your pretty head.
I'll provide
the who
and how instead.

It seems to me,
that what one wants to be
and what one needs to be,
are intrinsically, rarely
the same thing.

Illogical as it seems
you can take the next step
into your own head.
I will warn you of this,
enter at your own risk.

"May I Advise"

Staring at these
states of being
notice their
lack of scenery.
My bones know my meaning.
Vacant of edicts or decrees.
Regardless of purpose,
uniquely sensory.
Subjective in its entirity.
In review I remain apart
and consolatory.
Cautionary tales once said
or historical reenactments
similarly stated
these aspects of humanity.
Arrant usage made
this plot familiar

A girl,
alone in the world.
Life provides activities.
She simply needs
to add meaning.
Shake vigorously,
lather, rinse
and repeat.

"Self In 2006"

I keep this house.
Lonely, I grasp
those commandments
of bric-a-brac.
Only what I can hold
on my back.
My patience and endurance
are being tested.

Nomadic hearts
paper my walls.
I placed those roses
above the doorframe.
They remind me of an old
confessional.  A rememberance
to have my mouth shut
and eyes toward God.

Closets and drawers
crammed to a close.
Filled with skeletons,
old ghosts,
some term papers I wrote.

Composed, refined
we all play along with the lie.
Words become heavy,
thick and textured.
Pattern embedded suggestions
woven into my tapestry.


The drawstring snap of a corset
or the gasp taken in just before.
Exemplify this infinite
cycle of  torture
you've constructed
to be all mine.

Constricted and confined,
I do none less than comply.
Contorting to fit your shape
I bend and twist
to gain momentum
in the restraints.
I illustrate
the uselessness
of motion.
As you harness another leather strap
'round my nape.
Lace dangling at my feet.

Despite the lack of toxins
in my veins
I'm puzzled by your relation
of sex, death and pain.

My mouth now agape,
arms arch and force
my back to concave.
I look to be an invertebrate.
Bound and gagged
I excercise my eyes to intake.
They transfix on your face.
And that mouth,
impossible wound,
holding still to frame
your disdain.

"A Night With Napoleon"

Our truth telling sessions
on historic occassions.
All the lies
we thought were white.
The simplest of contradictions.
poised next to purity.


Unintentional absolving of critical sins.
Momentary blocks, backwards time,
constantly rewinding.
"An infinite loop," you say.
Lapses cosines by degrees.

If all of existence
were singular spaces.
Ambivalence exhibited
in my quick, indecisive steps,
Hopefulness undulating in
rhythmic strides.

Transference of pain
through handshakes.

Nonstop rehearsal
for a life. Littered with
traces of glass
and smudges of eye make-up.
lost words
ache unfamiliarly and empty.
When edges are pressed to necks
intimate, unconsumated threats.
Promises made
not neccessarily kept.

Dependency, jelousy and self-cruelty.
This is your cynacism.
I smile, depicting a figure eight.
Above the grave
but, below the feet.

"Dropping The Other Shoe"

Reserved amidst the swarming chatter.
Courting under archways and smiles.
The severity of phrases,
like bricks falling
instead of rain.
Serenely distant confusion
fuzzing the lighting.
Until I can feel the ghastliness of white.

I refuse to pour over.


moving quickly.
Minus the numbing
which accompanies sleep.
Nerves surge
encircling the urges
which swarm
and overwhelm.
Beginning to surround.

Skip one,
skip two,
now I'm none.
Breath taken in swift shocks
of icicles and knives.
Sharp is no longer without form.

Eyes crystallize, glazing over
watery, sunken cavities.
Iron arms and legs
weighten, leaden blocks.
Solid is no longer only a state.

Skip three,
skip four.
Down the hall,
out the door.

"The Daily News"

I was waiting
for the paper
while it happened.
Bus stop, park bench,
for my convenience.
Eavesdropping in mid sentence
under awnings which
reveberate rain,
inbetween stammers of
unacquainted conversations.
But, the time won't pass.
Nearer or farer
wait on the minute hand.

"Another Day In The Life"

Love, love
I am underneath
the seams
of things.

I can not play
for you daily.
I am unable
to see myself plainly.

Where I don
the apron
and slowly become a matron.
Namelessness is such a price
for this paltry
slice of life.

I am incapable
of surrendering
unto normality
entirely and wholely.


I brighten my mouth
             with lipstick.
The shade is crimson.
              To dampen the effect
of my sour expression.
              A useful tool, covering
     my true disposition.
Sucking on life's lemons
           left me a perpetual
          puckered frown.
Truth be told,
         I'd rather not be an I
per say.
              Feigned properly,
    typical they say.
The minimalisms
           of conversations
     go similar
                  and blur.
Rehearsed reactions
           pattern my boredom.
Until my hearing is hazy.
And I check the clock just
                    in time to recite
           my next line.


Protect your vanity
with tormented growth.

Calculated blush,
uncontrollably remote.

Encapsulate the form pronounced.
Seal me in plastic,
dry me out.

Sweet breath shortens
to panicked gasps.

I can no longer stand.


The cold manner
of his demeanor
suggests he left,
without any notice.
He spoke to me harshly,
calculating each incision.
Annihilating my peripheral vision.
Operating skillful
as a surgeon.

Silent for days,
muted rage.
Building inside of him
then shot out.
Like extra appendages
and violent shouts.

I shivered from the chill
in his tone
and reached for my coat.
He requested civility.
Then said I was devoid
and brings up my thievery.

I can't remember
when I was who
I'm supposed to
be.  The only thing
that's transparent
is me.


Far to the left
of ideas I sit
and campaign
for change.


Clots of hair, dust
and blades of grass
stick to my skin.
Worn doormat,
with no spine
to speak of
or legs to stand on
at that.


Blood-lined and unhealing
my mouth is running.
I knicked my thigh
and bled roses.
Reflecting my lips.
The petals of which
careened down my leg.
Planting their gardens bed
at my feet.
I dipped in my toe
and  lined up a pocketful
of posies
an draw rings 'round
my roses.

The wound wasn't round
like my startled mouth.
Nor did it mimic
the scissors I had used
to attain a razor blade
to slit my wrists with.


I lost myself
somewhere inside adolescence.
When I resurfaced
it was too late.
I was no longer safe.
Everything I loved,
I had let dissipate.
When I awoke in the snow,
smeared and scantily clothed,
I knew I was alone.

"Deaf-Mute" or "Laryngitis"

Corporate indecision
on what's clouding
my vision.
Waiting to whisper
sweet nothings
to someone who can't hear.

Lonliness pushes me into,
what I think I want is
but, he's inconspicuous
at best.

Succumbing to the compromise
which gave me laryngitis.
It's a shame
I don't know sign language.

I regain my voice.
Only to close the zipper
on my lips;
and the moments lost again.

"Broken-Hearted Truths" or "Misrememberances"

Don't wollow
in pretty,
of past love.
Always remember when
it was tainted with
your own blood.

Keep those things
in mind.
They are the ones
you should hold tight.

"How To Play Chess"

This snipet of a
negative of a
Joy to this
hollow union.
Lament drips from
our hair, skin and teeth.
I am disposable in all effects.

Recalcitrant idiom
etched on tablets.
No longer pillars of salt,
crystallizing meekly.
Solidifying my bones,
Until even my flesh
has become stone.


Corruption aides the pain
that's invisible on the outside.
Steady flowing numbness
keeps me alive.

Reconstituting myself,
I act as though
I can speak.
I sneer and laugh at it all
as I migrate into somehting else.

Transitory, at the least.

"Lady Macbeth"

wood-grain encompassed.
Like a death-zombie
at look-out point.
Twisting, ringing
out the blood in your hands,
for lack of feeling.
Lady Macbeth,
I have been this numb.
Eyes averted,
I am this numb.

"Plaster Saint"

I'm unwilling to make.
I don't own fortitude
or strength.
I was soothed,
lied to,
steadily immobilized.
Asked to trade my clothes
for wet paper mache.
entirely statuesque,
for the rest of my days.


Encased in nostalgia.
Lost in momentary notice.
Accumulated desire of loss.

"Lying In State"

Mouth sewn, tightened
by black wasps nests.
Blue blood spierwebs
beneath an ivory canvas.
Unnerved folds
in her gown
mark progress stiffening.
Hand poised to a close.
Like the Virgin,
never to be moved
as if cast in marble.
Devoid of her
pleading glare
to gain God's sympathy.

"The Wounded Walking"

Absent are
the leaves
and wedding parties.
A bride at the alter
to accompany
the turning of weather.
The wounded walking
with veils dragging,
petals falling.
Stiffening with the garden.
Watching flowers ache
at their own
mutes tones.
The limp and deadened procession's
feet shuffle out
of time and step.
Rehearsing eulogies
at headstones and gravesides.
Deaf responses
the heartless soliloquies.
Taking pains in mourning's grief.

"Here Lies"

In the earth
I cannot find rest.
Donning names and dates
above my head.
Monikers, identifiers
lest we forget.
Those born
must mourn
those dead.

"In The Masoleum"

Amongst the speechless
and vases.
Understated, no roses,
only geraniums.
Not showy but,
common as a housecoat.
Seen in every window.
The dead curl their toes
as I remove
wilting flowers.
Singular tributes,
aside from
granite placards
to commemorate
names and dates
of some such person
or place.
Cold as fish.
Equally as inhuman.

"The Doctor's Office"

My teeth clenched around stainless steel,
coping with the undulated pulling.
I wasn't allowed a last meal.
There's talk of the weather
and the latest death toll.
I heard a faint murmur,
a secret I'm told to hold.

You won't be placed in a jar.
Flourescent light won't show me
how small you are.
They've now deemed me disinfected.
I'm not sure their opinion is genuine.

Outside he watched mounting snow.
Attempts to convince him, he's not old.
Incantations in the cold.
Making a promise.
Did they offer to bleed for us?

"Relics Of War"

Resounding the mechanisms of assault.
My wounds still fresh
and full of salt.

Interpenetrated pieces of scrap.
Transcribed idiom
ebbing back.

The episode is filtering out.
Bloodshed concealed
by the heavy, black overcoat.
Leftovers of battle
give death speed,
rather than God.

Disease-infested bodies
skim murly baths.
Children without a chance
share their cancer lake
with them.

Lament unforsaken,
perished undetermined.
Buried nameless
en masse.
They haven't made
a name for themselves
even if only in death.

"Six To One"

I picked the wrong
time to play
russian roulette.

"To-Do List" or "The Steady Rhythym Of The Malcontents"

I want to do something productive.
The epitome of what existence
should be.
But, with daily capacities,
induced by structure,
in a monotonous society.
How can anything truly be
considered productive?
Rather than simply redundant.

References to the uninspired,
drab to pinpoint loosely.
Consumed, split sideways
and blink twice.

Lack-luster lamets.
Standard nonsensical treatment
of the imposed upon.
Speaking in riddles
and tongues.
Metaphors decay
by their own weight.
Similes smile, holding onto
like and as,
just to stay sane.

"Remains Of The Day"

I don't remember
deciding to jump.
All I can recall
is the f

So swift, panic
couldn't set in.
On impact
there was no pain.
I simply
strolled away.

Cavities of the brain,
morals and ethics decay.
Abcessing without the ache.
Is a conscience born
or maintained?

Catastrophic atrophy
and limp denials
dangle about me.
Decomposition shown externally
while moving.

Sickly, wan mirror image
bloated with guilt.
The welts can cloak the shame.

Reflections shimmer,
glint and wink at
misfortunes and dismay.
The only remains of the day.

"Statements Of Affairs"

Recirculations, recurrents
thematically devised.
Obscuring of the mind,
into one state or another.
It's difficult to say
which I've grown fonder
of these days.
My self-induced neurosis
or attributes of side effects.
Either conclusion
blurs my vision.

"Slurred Speech"

You remark on the
slope of my speech.
I ask if you
see it weave.
Like a drunk
emerging from a bar.
and tilting at windmills
to look for his car.


What is becoming of us?
Unconscious murmurs of what is needed
of prescribed.
All kept silenced, continually
in our confines.
Restless in thoughts, speech
and dreams.
Tranquility is finally
circulating through me.

"Intercourse" (T-A-L-K)

Using analytical contraception
to calculate this contradiction.
In terms of the extremities
that deface my effigy.

Intricate, yet indescriptive ire
reitterates during the discussion
we proved timeless.
My sins prove confession
awkward in this condition.
Inconclusive replies,
currently crammed down my throat.
Inconspicuous inquisitions,
my sole means to stay afloat.

I'm just waiting to discover
this river is endless
or as meaningless
as existence.


An accompaniment to lunacy
correlates unto imperfection,
in status folds and clefts.
Clarified in query.
Incorporated to draw conclusions.
Nonsensically camoflauged to cope.

Perhaps unknown components
intersected typically,
congruent only through facts.
There similarity ends.

Replication spontaneously forming
idiosyncratic pawns.
Tearfully calculated to time
in modulated incriments.
Subliminal prophecies
wired into existence
curtailing impulsivity.

"Mommy Dearest"

Rather than save her own life,
she's emphatic about mine.
How to do things properly,
she'll advise.
Annoyed when I won't comply
but, she'll be that way otherwise.
Random reassurances won't suffice.


Relatively lucid moments,
creeping into the ever
so near.
Loose interpretations
conveying matters of opinion.
Inconsequential correspondence
over eye-candy.

All this enabling us to step
out of our heads
for momentary circumspection.
The entirity of our quality time,
with unimportant psychobabble
as the soundtrack blasts behind.
Moving into spheres of non-existence.

"Gravity"-To Aaron

Don't doubt
if he's not
spinning as a top
before you that
the planet's 
ceased it's orbit.
Forces of nature
make or move our
reality sight unseen.
He's a still-life,
fast moving.
That is if you could
see gravity.
Pinning the ground
to your feet.

"The Ventriloquist"

"Enjoy it while there's not much garbage."
Referring to when his mind wasn't polluted.

Are you still the ventriloquist
you used to be?
Beautiful soliquies
uttered without
your mouth moving.

Misplacement of identity
among torn pages
and fragmented scabs.
Old wounds heal soft
when tongued to an abscess.
I heard your
teeth chatter.
Stage fright under
the audiences glare?

In love there's only room for two.
The other and who
the other thinks you too.

"Food For The Damned"

Can you not speak; if not
from the side of your mouth?
Why can you not face front
and shout?

You should say what you mean.
I never could see inbetween
those lines that encompassed
Minos in his labyrinth,
dominating Knossus.

Littered with tiny femurs
and radii.
Priest-King of Crete
and judge of the dead
in Hades.

Deemed those fourteen boys and girls
eaten alive every ninth,
at Asterius's feeding time.
Did the lawmaker hear their ribs cracking
or pelvic bones breaking?


I dose
in mouthfuls.
Lumps like sugarcubes
but, not as sweet.
Bitters and sourballs
programming my mentality,
less invasively.
Multi-colored candy drops
realigning my neurons.
Gaugeless chemistry dictates
my prescription for reality.
In practice,
an inexact science.
Guaranting failure
through trial and error.


please keep me sane.
Just for tonight.
I'm cashing in my chips
for this singular prize.
No white-washed walls for me.
No buckles or zippers
I'm unable to reach.
No never,
not me.

I'm grabbing hold of my mind.


Poppy tinted spurts
of metallic flavored jewels
slip over my tongue and teeth.
Savory, not sweet.

"The Cloistered"

Reconstitute false idols
of hypocrisy.  Donning
necks, wrists, chins
of inequality.

"Bargaining With God"

Give me hope to one day be and
I will not ask for another thing.
Give me something to believe if
I will not be burning as I once thought.
Give me a sense of what is to be coming.
I will not baulk, shift my weight or fidget needlessly.
Give me a piece to keep with me as a promise
I will not break.
Give me this, just for me.  For I will or
I will not go on.
Give me the peace to know what could be.  Allow me,
I will not weep.  For tears are not pennies that will
give me the amount of grace to ascend.  Earthbound,
I will not rise from a sacred mound. Hell bent on physics
give me reason, other than fear and boredom.  Fore,
I will not be scared off this.  God could
give me one belief. I've kept his rules and house. Though
I will not allow him to speak to me.  He may not
give me the chance now to say what I mean.
I need seconds of a whole, then
I will not mar memory.

"Moral Asphyxiation"

The abscess hase grown
enlarging daily.
Painful and extreme
I don't want it to leave.
This is my suffering
for what I've done.
The parasite is too much
for me to dispose of.
I will be swallowed whole
as it eats away the rotted inside.
I revel in all the discomfort
feeling more and more

Let me know when it's fashionable to have an honest relationship with a saint.
The ruler slaps down on your hand.
You answered that problem incorrectly.
But, the Mother Superior will save me.
So goes another crack of the Bible Belt.

Fall on your knees,
the dutiful pet they want you to be.
Washing your brain until
its spotless and new.
They can reteach you
everything they want you to do.
Tests of tolerance
or penance?
Buying blind faith
isn't as cheap as it used to be.
Absolving, annointing,
inaccurate and boring.

"Bread Crumb Trail"

was dense
and sparsely populated
by those giving directions.

"Less Philanthropic Philosophic"

Gadfly of society.
Lain down inside Plato's cave.
Staunch supporter
of the ever popular
Socratic debate.

Common sense,
familiar texts,
avoided but obvious.
The unspeakable said.

As an anatomy lesson
your audiences
witness dissection.
Wounds open,
mouths agape and suspended.
Drawn in perfect O's.
Shocked forms maintain.
Adulterous glances owned,
vested in regard.

Do you believe in armageddon
and self-fulfilling prophecy?
Nostradamus spewing
sporadic clues.
Laced with periscopic hindsight.
Numerologists or mathematicians,
what's the difference?

Chernobyl, the four horsemen,
the bar code, the devil.
Which is the lesser evil?


The space I'm left with
only echoes his hollowness.
represented visually.
besides his ego and id.
Freud smiles to himself.
Concave curvatures round
a backwards telescope.
Viewpoints fixed,
perspective is position.
"Safety and sanity
reside there.
Simply madness beyond that,"
he states as fact.
Flat as a pancake
the Earth rotates.
All is righted.

"Irrational Coincidence"

Juxtaposition causes cataclysmic
joining or fisson.
One minds eye
perceiving the union.

Walking down corridors
of closed doors.
Synapses and neurons fidget.
What was thought to be
is neither here nor there.
But, the question wasn't where.
Nor were you asked.

Can you see and not feel?
Know and not prove to bare
a prideful heel?
Smug, no expressionless,
quite blank.  Bald as babies toes
and as unassuming.
Did you find it interesting?
at best.

"Shopping For An Old Hat"

Which hat should I wear
today?  The madonna,
the whore
or the mother?
Perhaps the mistress.
Even better
the adulteress.
Oh no, they're
out of stock
of that hat.

Choices by category.
Labeling from society
a watermark indelliably.
Judged instantly
at a glance.
Self-justification minus
the luxury of speech.

My sins die-cast
into my skin.
A shining emblem
of my self-hatred
and inadequacies
as a human being.


Through the front door
I walked in.
Still sticky sweet
and guilty.

Granules of minutia
poured over
my cream and sugar.

"Talking To Myself"

I'm trying
to convey
the point.
You start
to walk away.

Solitarily prerecorded
stuck on autopilot.
no edges or points.
Seasonal ethos
dictated, fashionable tenets.
Memory and meaning
don't resound
this allotted pretense.

Space enlarges
I shrink
With flushed face
and impoverished speech.

Not recyclable
or disposable.
My emotional faucet
must be broke.

I'm like a cripple
but, instead it's in my head.
When I open my mouth
it's sort of like a trainwreck.

"A Lesson In Physics"

I didn't hear
the door
close when you left.
Leaving me unaware
of your absence.

Your movements
are ghostly.
Like all the words
we speak.
To you it's otherworldly.
Put mysticism aside.
Truth can't be divined.

Beliefs unseen
caustic fantasies.
Reasoning to keep breathing.
Celluloid settings
and happy endings.
Disassociated reality
a surprise party
with one guest.
Like games of make-believe
during recess.

"Safe As Milk"

"Take two of these
and call me
in the morning."
Prophetic, last words
before senses are warped.

A moist towelette wraps my mind.
I smile and know not why.
Uncertain praise
to my new deity.
Entombed without official death.
I sit quietly,
mummified by my papergown
tying in back.

"There, there
that's more
like it, no?"
"Oh yes, fine"
I sigh.
Cyclic redundancy
based on the part
played by me.

Much of what was said
I simply reitterate back at them.
Repetition and deprivation
are supposed
to make me sanest.
Or saner than I used to be.
When I still felt like me.

Fixed axises appoint
these rudimentary
aspects of living.
I check the schedule
to seem busy.

Here I go
into the daily known.

"Traces Of Lipstick"

She sprawled good-bye
in her bestest handwriting
on the mirror
with her favorite lipstick.
Three hours later,
he walked through the door.
Saw his message
and collapsed
on the wood floor.
She never returned.
Caught up in the arms
of another.
Who could heal her bruises
and swollen eye.

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