Spit-Fire

When asked, her mouth only had ice for me while her heart spits fire.
Holding here steering away from that gravity well that pulls like a summer breeze.
Breaking only to reconstitute to an unbroken forever, hence my true smile as I want.
–Thomas Spychalski

A Normal Night in Lonely Illinois.

No matter where I search cannot find it,
No matter where I choose to perch can’t bind it,
Guess I’m just too far away,
Guess it’s just not my day…

But in my mind I can see a vision,
Free of hurt, loss, or indecision,
But it seems a losing mission,
To ever feel that again, such a sad admission.

Nowhere I seek have I ever been able to find,
Nowhere I walk solo have I ever beaten time,
Guess I just walk on anyways,
Guess I’m the one comes/goes, never stays.

But in my heart there is still fire,
Out here hanging on rusty wire,
But it seems something I cannot aquire,
With nothing here and nowhere to aspire.

Something says not to think about it,
Someone says it don’t mean dry spit,
Hope is hope till it dies,
A hurt is not hurt till it cries.

Meanwhile in my solitary sorry head,
There is something I leave unsaid,
As I lay my lonely life to a lumpy bed,
Wish I had one, my one, to hold instead.

-Thomas Spychalski

Guarded

I guess the scene was as fated as it could be,
The way I met you and, you met me,
But distance and good God’s machinations,
And those ‘too bad/so sad’ situations, means…

You might tell me you love me once in awhile,
You might need my light to help make you smile,
You might want to talk away our problems, mile after mile,
But you’re not mine and at times my heart still chooses denial.

Now I know the best thing is to keep it to myself,
Wrap that warm bundle up, put it right back on that shelf,
But time and again when we’re feeling fine, I forget that you aren’t mine, cause…

You might tell me you love me once in awhile,
You might need my light to help make you smile,
You might want to talk away our problems, mile after mile,
But you’re not mine and at times my heart still  chooses denial.

I guess the milk is on the table, should stop these tearful thoughts,
But the heart cannot forget, the one it sought,
So one more time for old times sake, you heal my heart but it also aches and…

You might tell me you love me once in awhile,
You might need my light to help make you smile,
You might want to talk away our problems mile after mile,
But you’re not mine and at times my heart still chooses denial.

-Thomas Spychalski

Candlelight

A candle to light the way,
Flame to turn night to day,
Illumination can still burn,
Wish and put out, take your turn.

Flickering images on the walls,
Created by Candlelight as it calls,
Seething out in fire even if it can kill,
Seeing inner flesh blacken my only thrill.

Use the light as men use every tool,
All, sundry can burn if lit, who’s the fool?
Damn the match setting off pale wax,
Mercy comes in bits, but light falls in stacks.

– Thomas Spychalski

– Art by Jeff Lesko

Rattler Bites

So here we are, I are, we am again,
Never wanted to visit this scene well rehearsed,
But there is a circle, every now and zen,
That still make me feel teeny and awkward, reversed.

The fact I can help watch your death rattles,
Drive away your pain like a wrangler in the shadows,
Seems petty sure but it’s my storm side chateau,
Oh why, why, my loves love me but leave me fallow.

So now, one go, all go, we shall not so or sew,
Relish the licking of wounds only on passionless tounges,
Told you I hate this address as one’s location can kill as you know,
Seems now surfing your heart for any sense or pleasure is a game for the young.

-Thomas Spychalski

Self-Haunting

My monster is dead and I don’t feel safe…
My monster has passed and I’m still not free…
My monster’s bites should be healing now…
So why do I still mainline the pain of the monster’s touch?


Haunted houses are filled with new souls purged…
Haunted houses are now burnt to ash and cinder…
Haunted houses are now lost in the rush of time…
So why do I still feel the house’s floor under my feet?


Mirror shows what I never want to reflect upon…
Mirror shines with light that I am the subject mused…
Mirror captured the soul of the monster, the haunt…
So now I come to awaken that now the monster lives on in me.

–Thomas Spychalski

Aphoristic

I wait on unabridged security from an unsecured world,
Holding light aloft for anyone not to see only but to claim it,
Permissions holding back so much from the air it grows stale,
Awaiting love and touch from ghosts that are long since dead.

–Thomas Spychalski

Straight Black Coffee

She asked me why it all had to be darkened such,
I asked back to track down why they burnt trust,
Light cling to those that love is not quite a crutch,
Metal hearts caught in citrus rain begin to fray, rust.

Not sure why I drink all my coffee straight black,
The cream is too rich and the sugar securely sweet,
To one who’s back only bended in, became cracked,
When every story ended not with satisfaction but defeat.
–Thomas Spychalski

Jones

Hold it all in, hold it tight,
Never breathe it out, plight,
Suffer in silence, safer for all,
No worries, no answer, so, no call.

The world around me gone mad,
Joined it before it was ever had,
Mercy does not exist, they lie,
Worthy things left out in the son to die,


Cannot escape if you cannot run,
Internal malady, melody of no one,
Temptation to live, no more dialouge,
Arteries once open, slow, clogged.

Defecit from your profit, how does it feel?
to be wanted, to be, to fly, to become real,
Told the rabbit he’d be naught, skin and bone,
Nothing to escape to, this want me, love me, hate me, kill me jones.
-Thomas Spychalski

No Title

People only call to need salve when they burn,
When your skin is fresh and supple, there is no return,
When days are bright my court’s adjourned,
Being ‘loved’ in such a way is being used, when will I learn?

No days that count unless you bend on a scraped knee,
The Magic words are: “I need,” now watch them flee,
If you cast shadows after, that too is on me,
A man who loves so much forced never to be.

The world’s cold extreme exclusion,
While you live in a gilded glowing illusion,
It’s OK to kill if it means your absolution,
Never mind the blood and the other’s confusion.

Lay down the sword only to pick up the shield,
Against false prophets, lies they do wield,
My brain is set to naught, my heart is peeled,
Only desperation and exasperation in my field.