I am nothing
I am sin
I am rotting
from within

I am failure paramount
I’m a lazy layabout
I’m a shit bag
derelict

Cunts reveal your wine
pass the straws around
in time

Failure pays in debts
and leaves a sordid mess

But here we are
on this noble quest
to see who jumps the cliff the best

© 2015 | More Poetry by Toria Saint James

You
the person present
saving me
my last lifeboat
in an iceberg sea
thank you

Living in the present past
the old
the dusty
the plain
the last
but oh
oh the last
when music fills your ears and you remember
You Remember
you remember
all the listless days
in your cell
where you painted heaven on the walls

fall away to old begins
leaving highs and winning sins
paying homage
living in homage
smelling homage
YOU
ARE
THERE

© 2015 | More Poetry by Toria Saint James

The only thing
that gets me wired
that mixed up drug
we call inspired

Inspired is Now!
Inspired is Ever!
Inspired is SongPoemPossible Wow!

The only thing
that gets me wired
that fucked up drug
we call inspired

Inspired is Manic!
Inspired is God!
Inspired is FaithPerfection Panic!

So now I’ve felt the sting
I’ve got no more only one thing
I just got “trying to figure it out poems”
Spit onto the screen all here by my lonesome

© 2015 | More Poetry by Toria Saint James

It gets old
being alone
the friendless neighbors
surrounding your home

Who really wants to be friends with a melodramatic, poet, musician with mood swings anyway?

It gets old
being alone
the friendless neighbors
surrounding your home

So I write silly poems to no one
hoping for a note or two
this is the sunny apex
of Toria’s wintry view

© 2015 | More Poetry by Toria Saint James

Wishes left
like petals on an unpicked flower
don’t remember what you said
when you turned and left me for dead
saying
"you depend on me!"

but I do
so much that writing about nonsense
burns my heart like acid
and I don’t even want to tag this as a poem
because then it’s just a show

I love the loving that we never do
somewhat like Sherlock loves his clues

come fill my vase
and kiss me too

Music sustains me
Music sustains me
Music is life when the world around is grinding death
I know you think I’m morose
But no!
How no!
The alter boys have left the show
Raise bells!
Order extra exclamation marks!

Music sustains me
Music sustains me
Music sustains me

© 2015 | More Poetry by Toria Saint James

Oh verse
the curse interred
the worst
the silly lies we pen
to speed the Hurst
to our demise
is first
oh verse

yet being first is always wet
it slicks and slimes its winners’ vines
and pushes on in earnest sweat
oh first
you danger dangling thing
you lucky, lucid, prideful ring
oh first

so first our curse is verse we say
and next lies firstness, lithe and gay
who makes the queen in this foul play?

it’s you
so choose

is being just the first horse out the best?
or can penning verse so perfect quell the rest?

© 2015 More Poetry by Toria Saint James

Can I sit?
the somewhere sit
the I want to sit
by myself like a twit
in the middle of no time
where the clocks have exploded
and the gaze glaring girl sits
sits
can I sit?
unmolested?
contested?
sit
the single I
the loner lie
the lying loan
the throne
where I
can sit

and type or twiddle knobs in bliss made fever
laughing inside pleased as Peter on the rewind

© 2015 More Poetry by Toria Saint James

Oooooooooooooh
Who gonna pick this chick?
the mixed up tranny
with the shoulder chip
and a filled out hip
so the curves can’t quit

Buuuuuuuuuuuuut
Girl’s gonna keep on pushing
fixin this two tone kitchen
on her two dime pitch in
it’s a life long twitch spin
oh the motherfuckers win

Yeeeeeaaaaaaaah
Love’s gonna win
Yeeeeeaaaaaaaah
Love’s gonna win
Yeeeeeaaaaaaaah

Love’s

Gonna

Motherfucking

Win

© 2015 More Poetry by Toria Saint James

Ye the mystics, fruity, plebes
take the sting out of the bee
and be the being by the tree
sitting, Buddha, Newton, we

watch the apple subtly drop
watch the time time had to stop
drink the wisdom from the top
be the ecstatic, bubbling Pop!

And then the doctor, sitting sternly says
You’ve got some nonsense in your head
You need to be more sane!
We’ll fix your fucked up brain!

Oh now, I’m ill, or so I’m told
So here I’ll sit and ungrow old

© 2015 More Poetry by Toria Saint James

Wistfulness
rapid heart beats
joy
Pain
FEVER
love
happiness
what am I supposed to do with this keyboard? will it bring me happiness?

super-freakiness
omnivorous
pleasure
sated sated sated

no notes

© 2015 More Poetry by Toria Saint James

Bored being happy is the sanest kind of hell
Where you fidget with your patience
and you follow nose to dwell

Oh what hell?
Nothing now

I’m the sole redeemed collector
of a subtle, laughing WOW

Oh what wow?
Nothing now

I’m the one day daily diet at a time girl
I’m the flag of hope’s resistance that is starting to unfurl

Oh what hope?
Nothing now

So, this poem blessed
I’ll switch my mode to anxious

© 2015 More Poetry by Toria Saint James

Gay is supposed to mean happy
but why are we crying?
Trans is supposed to mean across
but why are we frozen?

Oh things like words they often cross
with hearts and lives and circumstance

© 2015 More Poetry by Toria Saint James

I dreamt I laid down in the road to die
and my head was knocked off my body
and yet I wouldn’t die
staring from ground level as the cars passed

and the stark reality kept streaming in hi-def
and so I called out to my father in frustration
who came and screwed my head back on
and had the doctors fill in the holes

and nobody wants to hear about death
but teenagers, poets, and wackos
so I’ll press on sullenly
and dig my grave with honesty

© 2015 More Poetry by Toria Saint James