Cryptozoology and Essays on Human Existence: Beast of Bray Road

Beast of Bray Road! I play the nightwatchman along dark, rural roads.I smell a man under all the stench of decaying meat and wolf's hair. Up on your hind legs, I was roadkill under your headlights eyes. Down on your haunches, I was another witness to the wolf man. Can't you fall on all fours when I struggle to see you? Wisconsin, in the night he repeats, "Gadarah."















Image from: http://www.theweekextra.com/news/1206/122406beast.html

I swore I heard the music box play last night

The geometry of my life,
recognized
as the world comes
full circle.
It all goes back to that song,
the one from the musical,
that one I sang as a child.
How many music boxes,
surrounding the toy chest
my father built for me..
All playing one tune,
all wound up to the
fullest.
Years away from the girl
with a little, brown
 toy pony.
Now the women,
with cigarettes falling
from her skirt.
I cry like
the tot with bruised knees.
Somehow I'm still singing.
And its still,
"My Favorite Things."

Cryptozoology and Essays on Human Existence: Beast of Bodmin

Beast of Bodmin! Were you licking your paws when the women all screamed on the moors? Haunting some heard of cows with your panther intent? I want you locked in the barn. I want the ghost given up to me only. Be there when that barn door swings open. My love is a firing squad locked on you. Flash of the eyes of a ghost cat, left with only rugs and imported skulls.




Image Found: http://www.beastofbodmin.co.uk/

Cryptozoology and essays on human existence: Beast of Baldenboro

Beast of Bladenboro! All my love letters turned to dog whimpers the moment you prowled through my home. The trail you left behind your cougar's paws was nothing but dead pets and shot gun smoke. How'd you dodge all your hunters and hounds? No bobcat left to hide you. I thought I heard something outside. Keep watching the woods from my window. Feel it like a broken jaw, you drained all the blood you could see.




Image found: http://non-aliencreatures.wikia.com/wiki/Beast_of_Bladenboro

I sang it to the dirt

I found an old scribbling, I find those damn things everywhere!


I Sang it to the Dirt:

You can change your life. In fact, you should. If you want something, you should just go for it already. And if that goal, like some icy mountain top, looms too high above you, you must begin to climb. Tooth and nail, feet and fingers, ego and id. If you don’t, you will forever lie at the bottom, gazing up towards the submit, cursing your height and inches.

You can not change someone else. You can support others and others can support you, be a rung on the ladder you must climb. But they can never be the top, never the goal. Only you can determine the heights of your destiny.

I only hope you let me be your rope, step, boost, helping hand. I think I have found my temple of happiness at the top of the hill. Maybe my lot in life is to be the shoulders, strong enough, to bear the precious feet of my loved ones. I would surrender all my mountain climbing, everything, to give you the world’s resources. Let me serve you. Let yourself serve you. When you reach the peak, make sure to dangle your feet over the edge and listen to your accomplishments on the wind.

Cryptozoology and Essays on Human Existence: Bear Lake Monster

Bear Lake Monster! All those Mormon wives watched in terror, two strange lovers turned into snakes. There was something bout the water, right? Something new. Something like swam like a serpent. Give me something to gossip about. Open these lips with your old walrus feet. They warned me that you were the main attraction. Tourism's boomin in your crocodile smile.





Image from: http://animal.discovery.com/tv-shows/lost-tapes/creatures/bear-lake-monster.htm

Cryptozoology and essays on human existence: Beaman Monster

Beaman Monster! I watched those circus trains derail. Saw each elephant and clown recaptured. Let the cotton candy stick to my face as they watched that one last beast fade through smoke and carousels  You were born of Big Top expectations. Born a gorilla's son. Who are you really? Never my Bigfoot. Never my Wolfman. And always, and always, my ringleader. 

Image from: http://www.unknown-creatures.com/beaman-monster.html

Cryptozoology and essays on human existence: Batutut

Batutut! If only that red fur fell over your face. Those bare hands and monkey's paws. Every human feature captured, felt worse then all your unpredictable, foraging teeth. Are you feasting on grapes that dropped from my lap? Are you dragging my liver through Borneo? I tripped in those footprints with each whispered song. Tootooooooo. tootoooo. totoooo

Image from: http://www.americanmonsters.com/site/2010/01/batutut-malaysia/

Cryptozoology and Essays on Human Existence: Barmanou

Barmanou! All I saw, looking up, were those animal pelts, dangling off your shoulders. How long were the tracks my body left in the dirt, as you dragged me from my bed? All those different names can't cover that primal stench. Your motives were always Man of the Forest.












Image found: http://www.unknown-creatures.com/barmanou.html

Curve balls

Lost games.
I never fancied myself,
an all star.
A pro.
An athlete.
Blow out the megaphone,
cheering for you,
to carry it all across
the goal line.
Foam fingers,
always dragging the chew
out onto the field.
All those conflicting thoughts,
bright as the team's colors,
smeared under my eyes.
I never get to pitch
the ball.
Never the option,
of playing referee.
One day,
we're hittin home runs.
Hear your name,
in every GO TEAM GO.
All pom poms shook,
in your lap only.
Then life starts,
throwing you
curve balls.
Curve balls.
Always a screwball,
you cant predict.
Always thinking too much
at the plate.
Before you know it,
the scoreboards empty.
Before you know it,
you've struck out.
Its over,
long before
you can take a penalty shot.
I don't know nothin,
about playing sports.
But I know,
when I fumbled
it all.
Nothing but rookies,
plucking flowers,
living life on the bench.

Mosquito on my Mind

Eaten alive,
by all your famished
scrutinies.
Were we an item?
Or was I still fasting?
Never could tell,
never could taste.
Was that was my head,
up in your clouds,
or was I looking forward,
to more mosquito swarms.
Stung.
How your strands of hair
brushed my leg on
our old couch.
Pricked fingers,
on your broken promises,
like glass and gnat's mouths.
Your left behind clothes,
sting more,
than bug bites.
Your half of the bed,
swells up,
necrotic.
You're Necrosis, baby. 
Gotta suck ,
all the poison out.
I was never hungry,
like you were.
I never seem
to swat all the 
flies. 

Cryptozoology and Essays on Human Existence: Ayia Napa sea monster

Ayia Napa sea monster! We laid out on the tiles at the House of Dionysus. Sea water dripped off your torso, curved like a woman stretching across the coast. Lap up my split wine, with one of your six dog's heads and slither through my desires as an asp. I always get caught up, in your ripped up fishing nets.  "The friendly monster," dragged me to sea.

Image from: wikipedia.org/wiki/Ayia_Napa_sea_monster

Cryptozoology and Essays on Human Existence: Atti

Atti! How many names must I call, till you turn that long neck? All the other beasts lent their last pelts to you. Still I debated: Zebra? Girafe? Okapi? Safari wishes always fall though. I always choose African Unicorn, over you.








Image from: http://www.scientificlib.com/en/Biology/Animalia/Chordata/Mammalia/Okapi.html

Cryptozoology and Essays on Human Existence: Andean wolf

Andean wolf! We speculated you into extinction. Man never lets the lone wolf state his case. Ooh how that one pelt fell over my lap, as I wore it and destroyed all your evidence. Your dried skull, still, is longer than my list of former wolves and lovers. 

Image from: http://patagoniamonsters.blogspot.com

Trail Rides

You are the
stubborn horse
led to the water,
I could never
get you to drink.
We were never
stall mates
anyway.
Countless hours wasted,
mucking out your
lonely stall.
My reward of
muddy jeans
and misplaced straw,
has long needed
to go out
to pasture.
Go ahead,
bloat your belly
and Ill tighten
the cinch.
Keep flicking my kisses off,
like flies chewing on ears.
No more sugarcubes
and bare back rides,
till
you take me on a
trail ride again.

Image from: http://www.flickr.com/photos/liakachman/

Ruined Meals, I wanted the last bite

The smell of
unsure breakfasts,
I made for you.
Always haunt my
kitchen
in the morning.
All batted eyes
and kissy lips
slipped through my fingers,
like that damn spatula.
Always slippery,
when greased
with your expectations. 
You left your
dirty dishes in the sink,
and I watched it
pile up.
All that uneaten food,
a history of our home,
in stains.
All that pancake batter,
sticking to my apron,
like your hand always
stuck to my thigh.
No one said grace,
at that kitchen table.
No napkin fell from
your lap
when
you left,
a hungry man.
No, I don't salivate,
at the smell of
bacon.
No.
I wont feed you anymore.

Image from: http://64promises.tumblr.com/

Cryptozoology and Essays on Human Existence: Amomongo

Amomongo! Always dragging those long nails through the entrails of my livestock. Always the question, man or primate. Always, a strand of fur, left on my cave floor. When? When? When can we have the night back?

Image from: http://frontiersofzoology.blogspot.com/2011/06/cfz-repost-dale-drinnon-packda-kapre.html

Cryptozoology and Essays on Human Existence:Ameranthropoides loysi

Ameranthropoides loysi! I'll kick the stick from under your chin. Fall forward. We both know, hoaxes don't photograph well, unless posed. Save 32 teeth, shrubs, and branches, for the last four adventurers.













Image from: http://www.flickriver.com/photos/pieterdirkx/2488902483/

Burned Hands and Forgotten Good Times

I wring my hands,

when I can't find yours,

buried in blankets of

insecurities.

You have hoarded 

your bitterness 

in messy piles,

leaving no path

free of

expired tv dinners

and misunderstandings. 

I peeked past those

garbage bag expectations.

There was no way

of cleaning it. 

I wring my hands.

Thought it might ignite

a flame,

like twigs and matches.

Burn your haunted house

down 

to the ground. 

I dash forward for eternity,

trying desperately to 

put out 

my smoldering bonfire,

in your flammable mountains. 

Wring my hands raw.

Each time I press my heel

into the flame,

you have started

another burning reason

why I'm no 

firefighter.

I question your sincerity, 

rather than climb

in after

the crying baby,

on the top floor. 

I wring my hands.

The hurt you

lit in me, 

will linger longer

then the years old ash,

still lining my fingernails. 

You knew

damn well 

I can't put out a fire. 

You knew my

extinguisher

was back under my own

pile

of cluttered

good intentions.

I will lose

all use

of my fingers,

if I light your cigarette

once more.

Burned hands

and forgotten good times,

can't make us see 

through smoke.

 

                                                       Image from: http://www.picship.com/

Cryptozoology and Essays on Human Existence: Altamaha-ha!

Altamaha-ha! Giant water serpent. I know it's you, whipping your tail against the bottom of my boat. Break the river and meet me and the catfish at "The Little Amazon."

Sshh! I'm trying not to think out loud.

Don't we all
deserve
our quiet,
secret place,
of solitude.
Give us one square
of Om.
Give me an inch,
of rewarding,
isolation.
I wanted nirvana.
All I got was an
earache.
From listening,
 for a
very quiet place.
Deaf sounds better,
then the nail on the chalkboard
responsibilities,
flecking caulk
on my creative outlets. 
How many crossed legged
nights,
pushing prayer beads
forward through
expecting fingers?
How much endured static,
like crackling stereos
out of cars at red lights?
How come good deeds,
don't make paths to
sought out privacy?
How long
till I know
the sound
my silence makes?
I just want a patch
of quiet inspiration.
like
everyone else.

 
                         Image from:http://outoftownblog.com/top-five-luxury-resorts-in-the-philippines/

Cryptozoology and Essays on Human Existence: Almas

Almas! Oh lets be wild people. Play truth or dare through the mountains. Truth. Are your footprints myth? Dare. Be the Neanderthal, yeti,  feral man, I know you can be.










Image from: http://www.americanmonsters.com/site/

Numb

Lose change,
we grasped for it.
Sounded like our teeth,
chattering desperately for
loads of laundry.
Money.
Money makes me numb.
Romance,
we shudder loud
at the sounds of
"your the one."
Love.
Love has made me numb.
Rescue squads,
spread out at trace evidence,
for my confidence.
Insecurities.
Insecurities make me want numb.
When did numb become
the feeling on everyone's
chapped lips.
When did I start fighting
for nothingness.
Numb.
Numb because I  worked for it.

Cryptozoology and Essays on Human Existence: Akkorokamui

Akkorokamui! I search the endless seas for your massive red limbs. Your name, unpronounceable, constricts my preconception of language and oceanography. Sink my weary ship. Tangle me in tentacles and salt water.










http://cryptozoologythescienceoftheunknown.com/

Cryptozoology and Essays on Human Existence: Ahool

Ahool! Your wings echo through the caverns of my heart. Cry out and find me in some humid, rainforest, sonar. Sounds like, ahOOOooool, every time I close my eyes








http://seekyt.com/some-of-the-most-legendary-and-mysterious-creatures-on-earth/

No prenup needed in the soil

  

penguinsinprada.tumblr.com

I want to marry a tree.
Seal our vows
in sap and soil.
Make love
in tangled roots.
Ill be the loving gardener,
and tend your every
weed.
Shade me from
the world's blistering
technologies.
Shower my eyelashes
with falling leaves,
like loving pet names.
Bloom for me baby,
and fill my womb
with fruit seeds.
Place the bird's songs
around my finger
like a ring.
Promise to carry me
into the forest,
rather then a
honeymoon suite.
Out live me.
Out live me.
Out live me.
I want to be
your nature girl.

Sweet Tooth and Short Skirt

ateneocinema.blogspot.mx

Am I always the girl with the lollipop?
Dirt always sticks to me,
when I drop my candy on the floor.
Lolita. I know you well.
Lolita.
Always the girl with the lollipop.

Thats how it always starts.

 Ill play a game with you.

 Ill pass the peach

 from my chin to your chin

. Im sticky.

 Thats how it always ends.

 Lolita, ill pass the peach chin to chin.

 Lolita. 

My ribbons sprawled out like open legs.

Wearing Your dress in the sandstorm:

inspiredbylittlethings.tumblr.com

Wearing Your dress in the sandstorm:

Not one
for weather reports,
I wore my dress in the
haboob again.
Clutching at hems
and modesty,
I laugh in spite of myself.
The wind licks my thighs,
like a lover's tickling fingers.
The dirt catches in my lashes,
like the words get caught in
our throats.
Once again,
my skirt flies upwards
like doves released from cages.
Once again,
I let go of my wide brimmed hat
and wave good bye,
as it carries my ego with it.
Once again,
my ass and last clean pair of underwear
are our inside joke.
When wearing your dress
in the sandstorm,
bring a spare set of humor
to change into.

Mantras

Mantra with me now.
The world is too beautiful
for an existence of
fair weather fucks and
self doubt.
Repeat it with me.
# The world's empathy sounds like chirping birds.
# Remember the dirt, how small each speck is and how far it has traveled. I am humbled when I see how small I am compared to flecks of sand.
#Im tough as nails.

Too Many Senses to Make Any Sense

 Image: http://whoaitskatie.tumblr.com/

Do you still see me?
I was fogging up the windows
of your back seat.
I was trying to write you a message,
only you could read
in condensation and
soul.
I forgot how to spell,
your glasses cracked
at each fading vowel.
Lost in translation
and lost in my efforts.
Do you still hear me?
I was talking through
all your favorite songs
on your day off.
I didnt want to keep you
from them.
Just knew you loved them
more then you were
capable
of loving me.
One wrong note
and our bodies go
out of tune.
I still feel you.
Every time a white 4-door
drives down the street.
Every time
I order the drink you
thought was my favorite one.
Every time
success runs out of my reach.
How many years
will it take
before all my senses
blissfully fail me?

Prideful Things

 Song in the process.

People are prideful things.
Aren't they?
People are prideful things.
Aren't they.
How come that apology
couldnt fit
out of my big mouth?
I just want people
to be wrong.
How come shame hurts
more than heartbreak?
I just want people
to keep their
word.
Cause it sounded quite nice.
People are prideful things.
Arent they?
People are prideful things.

Cryptozoology and Essays on Human Existence: Agogwe

Agogwe! Stand over me, 3 feet tall. In the distance, your all fur and limbs. Monkey around with me and Ill seek out your mischief.














Picture from: http://my-courtesy.blogspot.com/2011/10/dwarves-creatures-agogwe.html

Cryptozoology and Essays on Human Existance: Adjule

Adjule! Circle me in the desert sun. I see you all, phantoms, panting all over my mirages.

I was missing the one piece that wasn't in the box

You got your puzzles,
 and I sit with them sprawled across the floor
 like the hot summers
 where we laid on cool kitchen tiles.
 How I searched for cheats
 in the sweat that dripped into your eyes.
 I struggled with 100 pieces
when we were still beginners.
All your parts,
used to be so easy to fit together.
Advance to 500
 cause I thought I was the expert on all
 your little details.
1000 pieces were the end of me.
1000 pieces and completion is a chore.
1000 pieces and not a damn one of them
 will ever be a surprise again.

Crossword with me Now

Will you fill in my crossword,
when I forget how to spell?
When the thesaurus no longer
has anything
for me.
What's five down?
And why doesn't it fit with two across?
I spill coffee over your sports section.
Won't you take away my pen
when I gnaw it down to nothing.
One wrong letter.
The whole puzzle is lost.

Cryptozoology and Essays on Human Existance: Jersey Devil

Jersey Devil! I heard your hooves crash in the forest.Your cry: 13th child. Let it be the devil, lands abruptly before my wheels. Your wings beat faster than I crash. Your wings beat-Whoooosh-like a campfire song.

Cryptozoology and Essays on Human Existence: Mothman

Mothman! Burn a hole into my heart with your big, red, eyes and carry me off into a new disaster.

Lifejacket

Sexual Morse code

like the beam of a lighthouse

lured me into,

jagged rocks.

Far from the shores of

your affection.

You swayed and swelled like

a crashing wave

and as always,

I drowned without a life jacket.

I sunk like a captain,
meaningless,
without a ship. 

Get your breast stroke down.

 Arm over arm 

and foot over mouth. 

Stay between the buoys, 

where they want us to do laps. 

You swayed and swelled like

 a crashing raft. 

And as always, 

I drown without a life jacket. 

As always like a captain 

meaningless, 

meaningless 

without a ship.

Im drowning.

Contour of a Girl on the Ground

 

What is my role in the gang bang?

Hips thrust unwillingly into sobriety,

Spine consists of 12 easy steps

to abandon all significant failures.

I would give up my place at the top,

ego nose dives into the receiving end,

just to hear your dissonant admiration

across my sheets.

Its a long distance from the parking lot

to your inquiring mind.

No pot holes to call my own.

No spotlights have my back.

There are no clear footprints or bread crumbs.

Lucid mazes continue to administer electric shock

when I can't find the cheese.

Im still on your street.

Im still in the way.

The Wolf followed me

The wolf is gonna find me. Nightmare.

I had a bad dream last night.

I was lost. I dont remember where I was or what it looked like but I felt overwhelmingly lonely here. I was wearing a white dress. It was very thin. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath it. Every freckle and curve exposed.

I found people. They knew what I was saying but they refused to understand. Boys with matted hair and ripped clothes. Long fingernails and long faces. I thought they were wolves. They were not. They were coyotes. Scavengers. Hungry for me but too full of self pity. Thin and emaciated.

Then he came. I felt him through every part of me. I knew without question. No hesitation. He was the wolf. He was the wolf.

I tried to sing a song to make me brave but I couldn’t remember any of them.

“I will eat you alive little girl. oohh. All of you.”

All the wolf had to do was hold my hand in his and I knew he was right. The coyotes watched.

When I woke up I was no closer to finding where I was.

How Do you keep the wolf at the door?

I have a feeling hes gonna find me.

The wolf is always hungry.

I knew the wolf would be back...

A high bounty to the one who can send me his heavy head.

A heartfelt apology to the ones who cant resist those big paws.

Hips thrown into hungry coyote egos.

Lips smashed against haunches.

Im a goner.

Always the omega and never the alpha's bitch.

Always fight or flee. Never unison hands.

The wolf.

The wolf has my scent.

Spunk and Lapses

Nightmares.
Cop's hands in your last clean pair of underwear.
Pyramids instead of hips.
No Legacy.
My teeth can only shift so much before they chatter into paralis.

Scum like you and me

I found him,

smiling with sweat dripping down his nose in

a parking garage that smelled like pavement and perfume.

Your a rock and roll baby,

with hard guitar strings.

And six stds.

He's a rock and roll baby and im his fleas.

I don't mind the mistakes and itchy bumps,

if only I can hear your

dissonant "I want you."

Right in my ear on the pillow.

I got affection and the best pot of your life,

right here waiting with your name on it.

Scum like you and me

only need tight pants and

songs about sex and politics.

We only need to scrape the bacteria off

our tongues.

When we kiss I have coins on my closed eyes

so you think im dead.

Then you cant see what im thinking,

so im still your mystery.

I'll never take your headphones off,

or release the smoke you blew in my mouth.

You like the scrape of my feelers,

you'll never take that flea bath.

We both know I can make you twitch

like its 70's.

Searchlights

I could lay here in the grass another 10 minutes,

brambles and weeds tangled in my hair.

What's out of place and which ones are the dead ends?

Are these shooting stars or more helicopters?

Their searchlights looking between the spirals of my old notebook,

Searching for some line about how worn out my spine has been.

If only pilots could see my ambitions hidden under pencil shavings,

The ink like my confidence often drys up soon after the words come out.

Are the stars easier to reach then you were?

The last time I tried I was unsuccessful.

I reached for your ripped sweater

came back with nothing but crescent moon indents on

the insides of my hands

from my uneven finger nails.

Where do you go when your porch is filled with strangers?

You don't remember my name?

Oh. I don't remember yours either...

And I was too wasted when you said you liked my shirt too..

These new acquaintances never go to the next step.

Searchlights looking through the weeds and rusty monkey bars,

for the place I go when anxiety turns into paranoia.

Does anyone have my back besides these centipedes.

5 Foot 4

She always learned the hard way.

Inspiration never comes without a price,

and people will always pick your meanings to the bone.

Throw the gristle over the fence and into

the mouths of hungry 3rd parties.

There's new rumors that the girl can be swayed

like a used car in the fast lane,

blown in the wind over the dotted line.

This is the same line they drew in the dirt

when she was 16.

The line dividing the flat and the full,

the ones in heels tall enough to look down

on the ones who tripped on their laces,

crying loud as the Velcro was pulled away.

She only wears combat boots now,

the line her peers drew now smudges so soon under her

newly hardened skin.

If only she was strong enough to pick up the stick,

drag it in the gravel.

Her line dividing townies and the ones who got out.

She's still only 5 foot 4.

Untitled

When did authority change from a badge and all that post puberty hair

to

some fuck up you bought dope from in middle school,

who's sold his constitution for that same badge.

What has gone up more?

Cost of living? Or cost of smokes?

Can't have one without the other.

Applied the trickle down theory to my own name.

The effect is slim.

My energy invested in good intentions

until there is none left to provide for the starving self insecurities below.

A "rising tide" only makes more holes in the beach.

Tripped over my selfless ideas.

Abort them before they develop a pulse,

possibilities.

Abort before you become too attached to

a pointless concept.

Now you can just take a pill and clear your mind of

umbilical cords and lost phone numbers.

Of old pictures you deleted off your lap top and now miss that masochistic material.

I want to brake every sidewalk I once followed without a flashlight.

Shatter with the sound I make when my knees land on the ground.,

licking the salt out of my old foot prints.

I used to wear my sneakers so far down

that even I didn't recognize the prints they left.

Fuck. I'd love to disappear like I used to.

Smoke Signals

Smoke.

Typically coded:

one puff: Attention

Two puffs: All's Well.

Three puffs...Danger.

We must stand at a high point for this to be seen. Create a secret code so the enemy can't decipher the visible smoke.

Have we all looked up at the smoke drifting up from our cigarette. Searching for answers? Signals? Who knows our code? If we slouch very low will it soar up high enough?

Big circles. Small circle. Falling back down. How many drags did I take?

Take my Polybius square.

I want your petroglyphs. All those ideograms and alphabets.

Morse code.

Intimate signal lamps and and semaphore line.