NOCTURNAL EMISSIONS by Jeff Callaway

my

alabaster princess

of Atlantis prances

into oblivion

kissing me with her ocean

and breathing in heavy animation

a promenade

of sensual acumen, aplomb

a parade

inside the lover’s aquarium

where there is algebra in our footsteps

and a masquerade

of opulent beauty

in the caress of her

fingertips

all icy

patterns on my bare skin

to the bone

so we drop the linen

in the kitchen

towards an apex of explosions

or a crushing weightlessness

taking us towards our graves

or mine

gravely

in the grave digger’s serenade

her tongue of waves of fire

is like life is the alphabet of death

and her teeth are like tombstones

that spell out orgies

in her mouth

where i immerse myself

mercilessly

in the rain her hair is also fire

orange and golden curls

that swirl

secret side inside secret

swirl she is a cupcake

in her creamy skin, an ivory

death wish bone china cabinet

and i am the rain

upon her sweaty bed

with its no sheets, a bare bedlam

and i am the child she is torturing

in the dungeon

with butterflies

nurturing tsunamis in my stomach

as i reside within the walls

of her

wet soft pinkness

© Jeff Callaway

 

NOCTURNAL EMISSIONS by Jeff Callaway

my

alabaster princess

of Atlantis prances

into oblivion

kissing me with her ocean

and breathing in heavy animation

a promenade

of sensual acumen, aplomb

a parade

inside the lover’s aquarium

where there is algebra in our footsteps

and a masquerade

of opulent beauty

in the caress of her

fingertips

all icy

patterns on my bare skin

to the bone

so we drop the linen

in the kitchen

towards an apex of explosions

or a crushing weightlessness

taking us towards our graves

or mine

gravely

in the grave digger’s serenade

her tongue of waves of fire

is like life is the alphabet of death

and her teeth are like tombstones

that spell out orgies

in her mouth

where i immerse myself

mercilessly

in the rain her hair is also fire

orange and golden curls

that swirl

secret side inside secret

swirl she is a cupcake

in her creamy skin, an ivory

death wish bone china cabinet

and i am the rain

upon her sweaty bed

with its no sheets, a bare bedlam

and i am the child she is torturing

in the dungeon

with butterflies

nurturing tsunamis in my stomach

as i reside within the walls

of her

wet soft pinkness

© Jeff Callaway

 

NOCTURNAL EMISSIONS by Jeff Callaway

my

alabaster princess

of Atlantis prances

into oblivion

kissing me with her ocean

and breathing in heavy animation

a promenade

of sensual acumen, aplomb

a parade

inside the lover’s aquarium

where there is algebra in our footsteps

and a masquerade

of opulent beauty

in the caress of her

fingertips

all icy

patterns on my bare skin

to the bone

so we drop the linen

in the kitchen

towards an apex of explosions

or a crushing weightlessness

taking us towards our graves

or mine

gravely

in the grave digger’s serenade

her tongue of waves of fire

is like life is the alphabet of death

and her teeth are like tombstones

that spell out orgies

in her mouth

where i immerse myself

mercilessly

in the rain her hair is also fire

orange and golden curls

that swirl

secret side inside secret

swirl she is a cupcake

in her creamy skin, an ivory

death wish bone china cabinet

and i am the rain

upon her sweaty bed

with its no sheets, a bare bedlam

and i am the child she is torturing

in the dungeon

with butterflies

nurturing tsunamis in my stomach

as i reside within the walls

of her

wet soft pinkness

© Jeff Callaway

 

NOCTURNAL EMISSIONS by Jeff Callaway

my

alabaster princess

of Atlantis prances

into oblivion

kissing me with her ocean

and breathing in heavy animation

a promenade

of sensual acumen, aplomb

a parade

inside the lover’s aquarium

where there is algebra in our footsteps

and a masquerade

of opulent beauty

in the caress of her

fingertips

all icy

patterns on my bare skin

to the bone

so we drop the linen

in the kitchen

towards an apex of explosions

or a crushing weightlessness

taking us towards our graves

or mine

gravely

in the grave digger’s serenade

her tongue of waves of fire

is like life is the alphabet of death

and her teeth are like tombstones

that spell out orgies

in her mouth

where i immerse myself

mercilessly

in the rain her hair is also fire

orange and golden curls

that swirl

secret side inside secret

swirl she is a cupcake

in her creamy skin, an ivory

death wish bone china cabinet

and i am the rain

upon her sweaty bed

with its no sheets, a bare bedlam

and i am the child she is torturing

in the dungeon

with butterflies

nurturing tsunamis in my stomach

as i reside within the walls

of her

wet soft pinkness

© Jeff Callaway

 

NOCTURNAL EMISSIONS by Jeff Callaway

my

alabaster princess

of Atlantis prances

into oblivion

kissing me with her ocean

and breathing in heavy animation

a promenade

of sensual acumen, aplomb

a parade

inside the lover’s aquarium

where there is algebra in our footsteps

and a masquerade

of opulent beauty

in the caress of her

fingertips

all icy

patterns on my bare skin

to the bone

so we drop the linen

in the kitchen

towards an apex of explosions

or a crushing weightlessness

taking us towards our graves

or mine

gravely

in the grave digger’s serenade

her tongue of waves of fire

is like life is the alphabet of death

and her teeth are like tombstones

that spell out orgies

in her mouth

where i immerse myself

mercilessly

in the rain her hair is also fire

orange and golden curls

that swirl

secret side inside secret

swirl she is a cupcake

in her creamy skin, an ivory

death wish bone china cabinet

and i am the rain

upon her sweaty bed

with its no sheets, a bare bedlam

and i am the child she is torturing

in the dungeon

with butterflies

nurturing tsunamis in my stomach

as i reside within the walls

of her

wet soft pinkness

© Jeff Callaway

 

EMPTY BOTTLES

howdy y’all
my name is Jeff
and I’m an alcoholic
ya see
I been drinking
now ever since
the age of fifteen
when a green eyed girl
from a trailer park
in Tyler, Texas
decided to teach me
a few things
about what love means
and how love is mean
she broke my heart
she tore it out
by the seams
but before she did
she taught me to make love
she taught me to drink everything
from Jack Daniels to Moosehead
and into her pink
and I been doing it
again to myself
ever since I can think
and everything I could see
I started drinking from the bottle
then the bottle started
drinking from me
and just fifteen years later
I find myself drunk
passed out on Venice Beach
two friends and I drank three gallons
of Jim Beam with A&W’s cream soda
and we woke up in Arizona
and so the story goes
on and on and on
there’s a demon in my bottle baby
I find myself so gone
there’s a demon in my bottle
who’s needed exorcism so long
and so here’s to
my drunkard song
let me sing it
read it
all night long
empty bottles
empty cans
somehow now
I’ve become a man
screaming please remember me
and all of my empty bottles
full of memories…

BUY HENDERSON COUNTY BLUES ON AMAZON!

today

is the poetry of freedom

and my head it’s reeling

from drinking cheap tequila

and staring at the spinning ceiling

but i’ve got a good feeling

even though i’m hung over

and my stomach is empty

but i’m dealing

’cause i got a half a pack of GPC’s

and i got this poetry reading this evening

and this sexy nubile laying by my side

who sighs my name so gently

and i know that everything is going to work out

eventually

but i’m withdrawing

and i’m shaking

and i’m fidgeting

from this reckless abandon of the night before

and i am an East Texas dope whore

but i won’t let you shut that door

i’ll just keep knocking ’til you let me in

for i long to infect you with my sin

and today the poetry of freedom is in

so i’ll say all that i want to say

with all my somber words with shots of whiskey

and all of these whiskey awakenings

to the poetry of freedom

overlooking my doom

and opening doors to words and walking through

tagging meanings to my mere thoughts

like tags on the bottles at the liquor store

but so much more…

 

i sound my barbaric yawp across

a dusty bar room floor…

 

for i am the voice of every drunk and every

whore

who deserves to be heard

and so please give me more of these words

for only a few would be for the birds

and today is the poetry of freedom

so be free for sure

for today

the poetry of freedom

is getting you drunk

and getting you laid

and making you dance

or laugh

or pass out!

(2000)

Dallas, TX.