018 – Up

Barefoot footsteps patter across the floor above me

I can smell her perfume in the air
Mixed with the candles she has lit
She has left a trail of cloth and taunt for me to follow
And I do so willingly

I have been here before
Climbing these stairs
Hungry for what comes next
I knew what lust would offer me
Yet my heart beat as if it were all undiscovered

I could hear her whispers
I want you
I could taste the sweat upon her nakedness
Salty and sweet upon my tongue

Her moans would echo across the room
Once more
As I press myself against her velvet touch

When she bites me
Giving in to her beast
I will smile
Trying not falter too soon
Allowing her to claim what she so badly wants

And finally, when I do stumble back down these steps
I will have her love letters
Written on my skin
In the form of bite marks
And lengthy scratches across my aching flesh

Robert Lloyd
30 August 2017

Audio to follow…

017 – Little Beirut

Concrete and steel
Call to me every night
When I sleep

My dreams
Ask for my feet to once again travel along the asphalt
With moonlight as my companion

The flickering lights of bridge city
Kiss the Willamette
Teasing me with yesterday’s smiles

I now only visit with my eyes closed
Or via online ghosts
She was short lived and amazing

I have heard a city can steal your heart
I just never believed it

She is the lover I can never have all to myself
She kissed me
And then let me go
To forever hunger for what was
And the sad reality is
When I do one day return
She will never live up to my pedestalled memories of her

Robert Lloyd
29 August 2017

 

Audio to follow …

016 – Lost at Sea

The correct paths
We assume we must travel upon
Only exist in the shadows
Cast by yesterday

We all pretend we knew
As we look back at our footsteps
Only to be pained
By our mangled dreams and polluted thoughts

We are boats
Drifting apart
Fading into the swallow of the sea
With our snapped anchors
Wondering
Where it all went wrong

Robert Lloyd
28 August 2017

015 – Pluck

I feel my lips pressed
Against the pink
And I smile

Soft and silk
With no words spoken
I was begged to touch
To inhale deeply
Such a sweet and taunting aroma
How could one resist

I have waited for this day
On constant watch for my moment
My words were just a part of the plan
I had already seen my fingers trailing a feathery touch
I had already heard the mutters of jealousy
And the coos of delight

This beauty was mine
I would take her when the time was ready
Patience has brought me to this moment
And now I dare

Robert Rivera
27 August 2017

014 – Worn

This lonely walk
On this worn path
It has become customary

I have grown weary
As the fields of love lay barren

Maybe my best companions are my ghosts
The ones that vanish
When I am teased by beauty

Taunted by their smile and whispers of hope
They are like a flash of sun
Prior to the day’s storms settling in
And then with a crack of thunder
It is yet another grey gloomy morning

My heart is an empty place
And I can only laugh at yesterday
It strikes me funny how quantity
Really does
Make life better

We can claim false victories in our solitude
But in the end
If there is no one to share the victory with
Did you really win

This lonely walk
On this worn path
It has become customary

And so I step
And step again

Robert Lloyd
27 August 2017

013 – Rocks

When lips touched glass
Ghosts were freed
Flowing like a liquid skeleton key
To any box
Even Pandora’s

The first swallow
Opened the forgiveness of yesterday
Freed the sins of today
And prepared tomorrow’s regret

This night now will be peppered
With small hopes of
Forget me’s
And fuck me’s
All things we cannot tell our loved ones
If we actually have any

Our inebriated souls
will somehow make it all better
Even if only for a little while

Let’s just hope
We can wake up
Not remembering what happened
So we can easily convince ourselves
Its ok to pretend innocence

Robert Rivera
25 August 2017

012 – Approach

Quietly
It suffocates
Swallowing the sounds of nature

Inching closer
It brings the secrets
No one wants to hear

There is nothing happy about the fog
Even the paths
We all confidently travel
Without a second thought
Are erased

We are left to doubt our practiced footsteps
And fear the sudden arrival
Of pale yellow headlights

We should all lay longer
In the comfort of our warm beds
And let the cold white madam of the morning pass

Robert Lloyd
24 August 2017

011 – Rearview Mirror

She is the whisper
Of the fading sunset
That finds me
When I least expect it

When silence is audible
And my mind is wondering aimlessly

He is the ghost
That haunts me at the midnight hour
When I have outlasted everyone
Having had one swallow too much

When the darkness
is broken
By soft light and sad music

We pick up regrets
Like found tarnished red pennies
And save them in a recycled jar
Letting them gather over time
So that when we have enough
We can do something with them

The wealth of memories
Even the hard ones
Must be spent eventually
The question begs
How we choose to do so

This is when you learn
Is it truly regret
Do you buy a cheap rope
To hang yourself yet again
Or is it a lesson
And you pay for a ticket to somewhere
A place that brings the next great adventure
And wonderful misstep

Robert Rivera
23 August 2017

010 – Railroad Dust

I used to follow the tracks
Walking toward nowhere
They were rusted iron dreams
That lay quietly pressed against the gravel of giants

For so many
Steel rails
Signify an escape

They were a westward bound dream
And hope for brave new world
Where fortunes were made
And loves lost

They are the Hollywood Cowboy
Or a reckless teen
Full of angst
Trying outrun
The good
The bad
And the ugly
If they could just get there
Before they were caught

They are for the wanderers
Who crave no walls
Rules
Or borders

With the slam of hammer
And a golden spike
We decided we wanted
More than our own backyard

For some
They are the final escape
A chance to move on
From torment
Hate
Pain

For me
They were a playground
A chance flatten bright copper pennies
Or a dare to hop on slow moving cars
And see who stayed on the longest
I never won
I feared the scold of my mother’s tongue too much

The tracks were a childhood
Of laying in the dirt across the ties
Staring up a bright blue sky
While waiting for the slow building rumble
That eventually raced along with my heart

I can still see the conductor
Pulling on his horn
Because me
At the age of 12
Commanded he do it
With a simple raise of my arm
And a youthful smile

I used to follow the tracks
Walking toward nowhere
They were rusted iron dreams
That lay quietly pressed against the gravel of giants

Robert Lloyd
22 August 2017