A stranger in your place

When I talk to a stranger
She represents ever person I have ever met

And every stranger that I have ever dated on a whim


I don't know where you have gone now,
But I am talking to the stranger that took your place.
She claims to know how you feel about me.

I know the truth though.
I know that when she leaves,
And you come back,
I will believe it when you tell me she was lying.
Just like it was the first time.

Flighty

But then:
Men made me break;
Leaves me condemned.
And in a weekend state I am to fight my 'self'
In the winning I lose,
As the reverse is true.

Yet, I reach that sweet end,
All these tools once gifted,
Are inherently forbidden.

Clip the wings of this bird,
For the sake of the song

Adam's Atoms

Playing catchup since conception
One step behind the trend
Stand out and be different
The mold now broken
Failure was inevitable
Accepted before arriving
A self-fulfilled prophecy
From the vomit of society
Stained T-shirts of a passed out generation
In passing poems wrote
by self inflicted poets
Ropes burn and razors blade
Forced forms and floored by flooding messages
Forward passed the frontal lobe
Within the broken sphere of the once proud "Globe"
The bard's palace is burning
Tears turned within churning rifts
Shifting the weight of a nation

Future Eater

It is the wall that beats me
"Base of my neck"
Before I take the first step
The culprit defeats me
An invisible but tangible figure
Blocking every pathway
Bearing down upon my resolve
dissolving the frame of things not yet conceived

Mistakes

Such excess in my youth
Births regret as I age
Wisdom affords me not
For time is but a cage

Crowds

Oh,
How nice this life must be,
For those whose mind exists,
Unfettered by the restraint that knowledge brings
The blinding boundlessness of ignorance

My god

If it is good,
It is wrong.

If it is work,
It is wrong.

If it does not hurt,
It is wrong.

This does not need to make sense to be believed.
It is not sent from a god.

left

The truth of the matter:
My resolve dissolves when I am sober/
Only when I cloud my eye
And hinder my brain
Is the insanity of this calamitous existence rendered sane
I was despised by myself
I was forgotten in so many ways

trial

I thrust the dagger deeply
To the seat of my soul
Across and sharply upward
As if she was it's home
Final breath and deeply
Now my inside is shown
intentions bore before you
my purity is known

Ness

Start stabbing
This gift horse has gotten grabby
Given up grazing the finer dinneries in life
I've gotten gabby
Slightly underhanded
Everything I say sounds sad

This Morning's Mourning

Refute the daughter monitor
The moniker of modern monetary monotheism
My,
Mine,
MORE!
Mandatory monthly moral mastery as medicine.
Mediocre as 'Macabre" in this morose modern era.
Dictated in dangerous mortuary dungeons
Educated by strenuous oratory younglings
Syndicated with blame in us or is that a dumb thing?

Truth and Lies

Open sourced and segregated
Bloated eyes
Swollen lips
Deaf and screaming
A new type of desperation breeding
The face of fanaticism
Frantic
Filthy little fingers
Pointing and grasping
Groping and jovial
Nothing stings like the truth
Nothing heals like a smile and a lie.

Loading.....

The processor is broken
I've spoken a tale of snails
Compared to Tolkien
Offering no gold
"But I have these tokens?!"
Good for no food
Good for no shelter
Only at participating vendors
Written with pens tipped in felt
Turn up the blinds
Turn down the light
Mental unravellings:
No more than afternoon delights
Don't let the smoke in
Soon as it was spoken
Turns out I am no good to you
The processor is broken

Wordless Birds

I am made broken
And commanded to fix myself
Struggling with every step
Till we reach that sweet end
All the tools we are gifted
Are inherently wrong
Clip the wings of every bird
For the sin of it's song.

resolve

The fact of the matter is
My resolve dissolves when I am sober
Only when I cloud my eyes
and hinder my brain
Is the calamity of this existence
rendered to be sane
I was despised by myself
I was trained in broken ways

Zoom

Some scribbled and stolen lines
Like creases formed on baby skin
Disappearing in a swirl of coffee
And the broken hearts club
Forcing entry
Unwanted attention
All to attentive and selfish we
With all the awareness of details
So much is overlooked
At larger scales

Good Night

Hold strong in the haven of your fortress
While the walls of the mortuary crumble
Withstand the proverbial bullshit
In a barrage of garbage distracting
From the actions of the ones acting
Attention drawn away like venom
From a snake bite
Square in the chest
But I stare at the brightly colored
Fingernails
Cardiac arrest will set in
As you watch the stars burn out
From the window in your stoney grey paradise
Despite the blood flooding your eyes
The grass is fresh cut and glows in the moonlight
Over the curdling screams
You appreciate the symphony of sympathy
From miles away
I call for help now realizing
But you are mesmerized by the
Curve of the road ahead
I lay unconscious but I make a great pillow
For your unaware head to rest on
While humming 'Fur Elise" till you fall asleep

Salvation or Starvation

I don't know when I decided
To stop being so excited
Use my mind
Remove my eyelids
No choice but to be blinded
Give my future generation no chance
at blindsiding
Salvation or starvation
Bullets or bread
Better start desalination
For we are dry in the head

Nnocturn's Dance

Life seems like a living nightmare
Sight is slighted
Left unanswered
We idly dance
On shoulders,
feet,
and glass.
Staring careless
"Can we brake there?"

25 and waiting

An alcoholic aberration
Buys a broken bulldog, bitten
Count the calories for changing
Darkly drinking in the dither
Even empty epitaphs
Find faces full to flatter
Giving grievance gladly
Having heartburn happily
I interrupt indulgence
Just joking
Kindly killed for kindling
Like the laughter lingering
Maligned with maelstrom's mean
Nite is not the nicest
Oft obligatory
Persisting perspiration
Quiet quintessential queens
Rarely read the registration
Someone seeks the sudden scream
Tightly tucked, the torch yet teaming
Unabashedly
Vestigial violence is the verdict
With warnings waining in the west
Xeransis of the xiphoid
Yearns yearly and yells at youth of yesterday

A Sordid Affair

All in all,
I suppose it seems fitting
Dance around your words
Anything but "quitting"
It was a short and blissful trip
One from which I try to derive a meaning
An activity in what can only be futility

Shared

And we: the great and spacious buildings
Resist the wind together
The seas may crash
And they do
But persist and hold fast with one so near as you

The beating sun
These failing extremities
Weakness is a foreign concept
When necessity and contempt are present

Waning Shot

Unsure what falls here
This threadbare smile is waining
I cast the blame
And guilt that follows carried
What caused this dismissal?
Standing on end
Trying to discern
Unclear how this plays out
In dark reflections
This blue seems red
No way to turn the tide now
Regardless of intention
I worry that these
Are more than they pretend.

The Moors

Some great sweeping relief
Standing in unattended waters
It is the blind that feel their way in this
When we rely on our senses
We are sitting out
Elated to the point of numbness
Awake with fear and terror
Wonderful and unsettling we embrace
A full and broken step
In time I fall behind
There is no place for hope in here
There is no peace of mind.

Set

Turn another page in this endless tale
Another gust of wind for the sail
Crewed by the captainless masses
Heartless fools,
Watching as it crashes.

Error on Trial

I feel like there are steps to this,
Rules you aught to follow,
The things that behoove you.
Somewhere in the file cabinet of unspoken laws.
The repulsion is undebatable,
But the threshold is left for you to find.
I am going through my slowly programmed motions.
Can anyone truly choose their life?
Evidence remains that we are but passengers to the inevitable end.

Wrapped up

Intertwined
Spinning in and out
these blinding realizations that it is
maybe
Poor timing
Trapped in a language that
barely is surviving the sighing
Words have lost all meaning
More is meant by dry heaving
I only accomplish a goal when I stop tying
Look around and you too will see the truth
Up in smoke, the words are dying
Sort through the ashes and find some remnant
Not even worth buying
So much joy is lost in stories told while lying
Euphoria is a word
A hope with no chance
A vestigial word with no meaning
No understanding
Destroyed by the constant declining
Lines of anti-conformist  mind-raped
children flying
Flocks to the unified combining
Black and white with forging power of lightning
When in different lighting all unexciting
Just across the room staring bright
inviting
The change we seek
but out of reach
give up and cease
existence no longer fighting

alone

Showing nothing
Known below
reaping what we sow
Nothing to show until
we brake the mold
no way we get to go alone.

heart

feeling still within me
fills and peeling back
the will is real
forefront burning in
instep and heartless
hear the depth within this pile

Harden My Heart

I took such time to build up these defenses.
Such care and precision.
It was no small feat to undo my work.
My dedication.
My discipline.
Slowly broken over time.
Whittled down by insurmountable forces.
It took wind.
It took fire.
It took apathy.

Spineless

I wonder if they make a petri dish large enough
To regrow my spine in.
I could supply the raw material.
Just a little short on starch.
You would think it such a simple thing.
Really,
How hard is it to fabricate conviction?

Tomorrow

I hope that it can all be undone.
A cloud of smoke.
A silent scream.
A wisp of sage and regret.
Then nothing.
A sneaking blackness from whence we all came.

The fingerprint of humanity will be as it was so long ago.
In spite of the years of scrutiny from it's hands.

Under Handed

I don't recognize the meat beneath me.
Far away,
Larger than I remember.
Are these my hands?
Something about the colour.
Egyptian and scarred
There is no comfort of constant
In this absence of familiar.

Famine's Family

Holding hands across this abyss.
I can almost feel what I am saying.
Heels click into place.
Eyes lose focus.
Not much in the way of laughter,
Besides the mocking disbelief.
A few degrees shy of happiness.
Nothing is waiting on the other side.
The pasture you seek
Was hit hard by the famine of imagination.

Stagnant

No one knows,
Or cares,
What I do,
Or when I do it.
So long as my reach stays local.
So long as my ambition remains,
Stagnant.

Tested

We spent hours saying nothing.
Only sitting in the dark.

A phantom howl among the wind.
The gentle barking of your heart.

The word, upon which all was waiting,
I softly tightened up the screws.

A subtle timbre in the talking.
I thought you hadn't heard the news.

I pull my jacket closer.
My face, a blur of lines.

Can't imagine all the work.
To act like everything was fine.

Something swept up in the sadness.
Best intentions blown around.

Now a question with no answer.
I stare harder at the ground.

cocoon

I pull the covers closer.
Tighter than the lids of my wincing eyes.
Tight enough to keep the air from trespassing.
Here in this fabric shelter I wait.
For what?
A bell to toll in the gloom?
The waning winds of winter?
No matter how long I hide here in,
I cannot change into a butterfly.

Stalk or be Stalked

I am stockpiling every look you gave me.
Good or bad or unintended.
All the same.
Be it all I am interested in,
And maybe more.
You are every thing I want,
And I will never know you.
My summation might be a complete misstep,
But it affords some comfort.
A slight reprise from this despicable life.
Now, as I torture myself over the past,
My what ifs keep my hand away from the knife.

Modern Meta-Blindness

You stockpile your faults around you.
Like self propelled life preservers,
In an ocean of kerosine and napalm
As long as you hold the fuse
There is no effect on you.
Oblivious, it seems, to the truth of things.
You use your misdoings as a weapon,
To weaken the knees of all you see.
And yet,
When observations are made,
From foe and friend alike,
You burn deep into the night.

The Upender

Can we please just stop pretending,
That this is anything but,
A rest and relaxation generation?

Like some festering wound,
It would heal just fine,
If the bitch would just stop tonguing it.

I need to check under every brick,
and flip each cobblestone that built this road,
Till I find the scorpion hiding with my name on it's poison.

In Difference

These days are passing like flashes.

Lights among the darkness.

More like than not alike.

Barely even see the changes,

With ever blurring lines.

Each day follows with a waiting night.

Same place.

Same road.

Same move.

Same fight.

Creative Cultist

Constantly searching
for plot holes in your sermon.

Dead oaths pass through lips dead quick.
The mythic dawn mystery rises against insatiable ships.

Do you have more questions?
Or would you like to talk business?

You parade as a museum but,
Really,
What is this?

"We hold the fate of the world!"
So says the cultist.

Partners

Is it pride that keeps me from lying?

In truth we crumble and fall further,

Widening the chasm with each honest answer.

I could choose to be,

The me you think I am,

The personality you expect.

Each time the mask is lowered,

And the truth is revealed,

The earth swells,

The bow breaks,

And the mist engulfs me.

I should have known it was destined for destruction,

As soon as the word "worshiped" was uttered.

What am I fighting for?

What am I even fighting for?
After all, this all dissolves.
Not a thing we do will last.
When the heat of it disappears,
In the frozen lock of space and time.
I fight so I might not have to fight later,
But in the cosmic eye I'm wasting time.
The planet will devour all we do and all we try.
Even if we leave, the comic clock unwinds.
Infinite frustration over finite gains.
The smartest thing my father did was die.

The smartest thing my father did was die.
This is not a story of triumph.
Our's is the story of defeat.
We will break the world until we break ourselves.

Interview with a Outcast

"I see myself dead in five years."
A simple answer,
To a stupid question.
Who even answers that one honestly?
"Follow that ambulance.
I want to see carnage!"
Then the pale and awestruck response begins.
Nearness brings to light frailness.
Bound by fear of failings.
"I know how strangers see me."
Fleeting interests.
Discounted at perceived disrespect.
Fear the mirror in the eyes across this distance.

Serpent's March

The serpents are circling,
In hope of their prey.
Be drowned by intentions,
The hope of the day.
Broken the alter.
Ashes away.
Open is falling,
Falling,
Falling,
Falling away.

Get lost in the dawn break,
With nothing to pay.
Pushing the fallback.
Feeling the haze.
Nearing a billion,
Right into the fray.
Nothing to stop your falling,
Despite what they say.

Language barrier

I wish that I could understand them.
So alike,
In shallow sense.
Yet, aeons between the hunching hopes
and myself.
The action of this creature,
So intuitive.
Impulsive.
Far below the surface of thought.
Yet, somehow it continues.
and seems to increase by the day.

Carded

I'm not even a drop of water,
In this ocean of life
We call it a slaughter.
Doting Zoe's derelict daughter.
Like I was blind,
Choosing loaded barrels in the darkest of nights.
You said I knife fight right.
I was left with my word against mine.
Tight-lipped the caged canopy
Shot glasses in the pantomime.
I won't be surprised when I find,
There is a zero percent chance the last dance in mine.

Fast Fists

Fingers grip.
Sweat drips.
If only Mom could see me now.

Tight lipped,
The welcome slip,
Ignore the creases of my brow.

You did miss,
The pre-bud nips.
Now surpassing 5000!

Long Drive

Just sit there
In that chair
It is not very fair,
Now that you are more consciously aware.
But another eighteen hours and we will be there.

Potholes like plot holes
On a road to some nemesis
Scary?
Yes.
But it is a hell of a lot better than when we precisely hold hands.

Hi there!

Winding down this alley
Dark and menacing
I can scarcely think of an excuse
To avoid this encounter
Pensive and merciless
Worth every second of stalking
The blade strikes true
A new home in me found.

Pensive

Picture perfect pocket
Preemptive purification
Petrified
Piece by piece
One per person
A pretty perspective
This playable persona
Practical
Perpetual perturbation
Please prepare for pretense
With prompt prostrating

The slow deterioration of joy

I am no longer at liberty
The solution is distance
To be sure
But the yearning is unbearable
How did it get to be like this
Such a pain
At arms length or closer
there is no safe distance
Near or far
To salvage this happiness

Afflicted by now

All is distorted through the lens of time
We make such a fuss over how we see things now
We can't stand things going as they wish
We hold no hope for the future
Not while the past is so heavy on our minds

Work

I stare at these stairs
Looking back at me
Deceived and incomplete
Force my body against gravity
Sadly succumb to depravity
With a crooked grin
You can't write drama this badly
Growing gray and weeping gently
Progress these crimes and buy your freedom

Blood Clot

The library became something that we synthesize.
Televised in some sad semblance,
You could honestly describe as "modernized"
Wide-eyed, grand attempts at getting a
Customized,
Annotated,
Nothing.
A corpse, not remotely resemblant, remains.

Can you bury a million people for the taste of what their fed?
Worship in a way that dulls the head.
I don't care who made it,
We're all lying in this bed.

Living in a rough draft culture designed to hypnotize.
We become a distant memory of life,
Now sterilized.
Paralyzed with panoramic scenery from every part of the world
Except,
Our own.
Not a single face is recognizable on this display.

Can't complain though,
So long as they rob you of the words you'd use to do so.
Even when we lack the language,
The feeling is welling up.
Somewhere between hysteria and panic:
Reprise.

We are the children of a system that became it's own disguise.

Mortality

I found a corpse today
In the garden with a rake
Due to decomposition rate
I could not determine gender or age
Judging from how the body lay
It seemed they passed with little pain
The sun sure had it's way
Six small legs had curled away
All the same
I had to contemplate
Life,
And death,
And pain.

Forget-Me-Not

Time may forget me here
But these solid walls will press on
Refusing to crumble
As I have crumbled
As have you.
The soft and eloquent things
Slowly pressed into bitter jelly.
With the telescope of infinity
we see.

I am nothing that was not before
Nor will I be ever more.

Season of Dreams

Pacing these heavy corridors
Thoughts running adjacent
Abstract and active
There is  a certain flow to things
I haven't found it yet
There is a resonating timbre
This place vibrates beyond my dreams

Reflections

Formica and false marble
Particle board and blood stains
This rough structure could barely stand a heavy breeze.

Chipped rubber liners
Scratches score each surface
Florescent reflections reveal my face in these.

Surprise

Somewhere along the line
I did not get notified.
Lost in communication
Or just ignored.
These vital instructions got swept up,
Under so many carpets they rest.
I suppose I'll never learn.
Oh, to be the wasted words:
A feeling often overlooked and unintended.
We know the way to fail in not alone inaction.
Something as a torrid swell
Singular I feel the broad side.
Within it a comfort I did not expect.

Of Holding

Every time I travel,
I seem to have found more to bear.
The pocket space is stagnant,
But my inventory is exploding.
Lest I be empty handed it keeps coming.
Perhaps I can find refuge in the cubby I am carving.
Spoons are slow going in this cave.
There is light in and around this space.
I can see no end to the suffering.
Wherefore am I unbroken?
Hopeless.
I feel the waves of nausea rising.
My blood stream reluctantly pumping what it can.
A dizzy spell.
All sin, the empty swell.
Where did the days go?
Why is it so hard to be still?
By the second,
The lines of this fragile plot are growing whiter.
There will be cracking and bleeding at the seams.
The hooks cannot be kept from catching.
The time will pass regardless.

witness

Singled out and silent.
There is something in the silhouette of you.
From alternate angles and forced perspectives
We come to you.
No true intended consequences.
The outcome of design never rests,
With squinted eyes.
These cheeks, red with tension.

Happiness is understood.
But the laughter is off-putting
How hard must one try?

For the better jokes.
How far must a person be driven?
Is the constant punishment to blame?
Or are a person's choices their own
Responsibility and punishment.
Who then can a lover find responsible
Within this timeline.

unspoken

These unpronounced words,
falling feet first,
Nothing but hands in the darkness.
Lips pursed and cracking
Mind miles ahead
this thinking is carless
Unbridled and unspoken

Living a Lie

My head is lying in the lake,
Where hands and feet will drag and scrape.
I tell my friends it's not too late,
We're living in a lie.

Mourning cries, my soul to rake,
While shrieking mouths are left agape.
How forceful falls the blow of hate?
I'm living in a lie.

When bones and bread refuse to wake,
When knives find rest below the nape,
No vice is herein left to sate.
You're living in a lie.

The bold conviction seems a fake.
What shadowy and faulty shape?
Weakness is a loud man's trait.
You're living in a lie.

A hopelessness I cannot shake.
Despite my speed I can't escape.
My fate, with baited breath await.
I'm living in a lie.

Lest we forget what's here at stake,
The tarnished past as clothes we drape.
With bended knees by buckling weight,
We're living in a lie.

Where the heart is

There is no ideal environment
Where at I have evolved to fit
No climate I find comfort in
I am without a home

I cary the absence of a place
I heard of things occurring
in the heart of wild people
But I will find no resting stones

Goodnight

The first few waves are unrelenting:
Shaking from head to toe.
Whole body screaming out.
Up and away,
From feet to ether.
Over time the cries subside.
It is a move of exponential surrender
Standing,
Sitting,
Lying prone.
Nothing but a gentle release of breath at the end.
All fighting done.

stormy

The weather continues changing overhead.
Occasional drops of stolen precipitation find their way down to us.
A solemn moisture lingers on the wind.
From a distant place I'll never find,
Nor even look for,
A warmth is swiftly growing.
Perhaps the sender is unaware of whom this will befall.
But thunder crashes without care.

Old new things

These streets are familiar
New faces inhabit old haunts
The buildings can't change
Am I remembered by these bricks?

film

What great distance this light has covered.
These synthetic sinews it has traversed.
To depart such serene and subtle climbs.
To finally reside inside these unblinking eyes.
No regard given to the impossibilities between.
All so man can see woman faraway.

Truth

I have been taught to take things as they come.
"What more could you expect in life?"
Embrace the good with the bad.
Even when "the good" is far between
Few.
If ever seen.
Each turn is a stumble into dark from dim
And at this point of age
My patience is wearing thin.
So many years of empty promises
So many smiles to hide the tears in knowing eyes.
Is there no end?
Save the final reprise.
When, without warning, the struggle is completed.
Is that the silver lining you promised us?
Is that the consolation prize?
Despite the pain and strife we can take solace in the knowledge
That nothing matters and everyone dies.

Deviled Eggs

I have very little faith in your legs.

Valuable time is unspent,

More or less.

Thanks to the nightmares I often don't rest.

The question that's best.

An alteration on the regs.

"I'm Old Gregg!"

"I'll do it right away."

That's what you said.

You claim that I am mean.

But I don't waste words lest they go right to the head.

Just skip this one.

How young is too young?
"If there is grass on the field, then play"
Is that what you used to say?
You may have cracked the screen.
But the videos live on to see another day.

Thoughtless

There are so many unspoken things.
Rows of unspoken words
Like well trained reserves in a time of peace.
But this is not some happy place.
A perpetual utopia.
No,
This is a mutual political standoff.

Sorry Excuse

Quick with an apology,
For the simplest of things.
Trivial.

But showing no remorse,
For large missteps.
Not even acknowledging ,
The harm you've done.

Son

You have a blurry future,
Thanks to me.
Thanks to her.
Sometimes it seems like we care.
Sometimes we seem to forget.
The repercussions of our missteps.

Split

I got lost somewhere along the way
Pieces of myself form a trail
Like breadcrumbs I didn't want to drop
Pulled from me by unseen hands
Falling of and leading back to where I left so long ago
Who knows what eyes will see those long forgotten parts of me
What feet will follow this quickly cooling trail
Leading right back to this hollow heart

Regret

I wish I didn't need to do it this way.
This retroactive repair.
It wares on my integrity,
There is a pang of irony within this action too.
Knowledge of the slimming numbers.
The fault may lie in uncertainty,
Or perhaps it is just taste,
But the remaining fact is lacking traffic.
For these few things I strive and loose such sleep?

group

Multiple places at once
Many eyes and one vision
We scan all those that cross us
We do what must be done

The Rind

Tan landscapes
Broken vases that lead to sunken treasures
This is a place you go, to be forgotten
Tiny wisps of what was once
Nothing here but a glimmer of laughter
Smoke is rising in the east and not even sunlight dares to enter
Curses uttered under baited breath
Relief is but a distant memory of a whispered dream
Feverish and wincing
No escape will be found or offered
No quarter given to those that seek relief

Trust Me,

Twisted little dervish,
The dregs don't dare to stare.
Propped up to avoid it,
But still,
The heat is beating in on all of us.
Your god is long forgotten.
Still you push the wandering forward.
The lust for something like a mirage too great to pass.
The heart of what you yearn for has ceased it's pitied beating.

The Fruitful Life

This anxiety is growing
Knowing I am wasting my potential
How many directions can I go
How much am I willing to do
For you?
I would do anything
Every ounce of sweat and blood is worth it
I know that you are worth it
You do not know yet
Not really
You may never know what has been done
What will be done
But you will never have to worry about what wasn't done
You will never see what it looks like when I don't achieve

The Wall

I am unable to overcome
These crippling doubts
Restrained by fear of failure
The conundrum begins
Incapacitated by my own unwillingness
No doubt of what I am capable of
But no motivation to prove it
This mountain will be climbed
The torment will be conquered

heart shaped space

The weight of this pressure as turned me.
Forced a change in me that none saw coming.
Willingness has shed it's utility.
Hope becomes disgust.
No longer is there a glimmer of trust behind my eyes.
A sort of diminished hatred lingers here.
Failing to even try making a disguise.

Where did I go?
Perhaps this memory is nothing more than the shadow of desire.
Things I whisper to myself to reassure the disappointment.
As the evening turn from black to powdered blue,
My thoughts of sick complacence stem from you.

Writhing tendrils searching for a home.
Eyes, in shaky desperation, land on nothing in particular.
These knuckles lost the ability to turn white,
Right about the tenth time the threat crossed your lips.

How quaint

Awake!
Offer something often overlooked
"Nothing here escapes the chance of rebirth"
The stumbling fingers.
A turn of phrase.
These glances quickly took.
I live a life of stolen pleasures,
Instantly punishing my thoughts with guilt and shame.
A prison that I built,
On rubble from a thousand silly dreams.
My life is pulled from pieces of debris.
It pales in comparison to what I am deserving of.
MY choices only here to blame.

hott

Inside this thin shell
lurking darkly below the casing
An offer unknown
Twist and contort
Lies the heart of all my life's ambition
A deity worthy of the ritual

Difficult

I never knew where to step
Egg shells and broken glass
The mine field is out of mind at least
As if it weren't enough.
I don't know what you want from me.
You don't know what you need from yourself
A few steps in a direction of production perhaps?
Maybe a turn out of the melancholy.
Self inflicted tears can grease the quick descent into oblivion.
But who wants to be proactive?
The glances of pity are far more rewarding.
An ounce of work is just that,
Work.
No one has time for that.
Let the world be handed to me begrudgingly,
By the trick of emotional terrorism.
In the end you still have the world,
Who cares the means by which you gain it.
Respect and worth are overrated anyway.

mmmm

More than just mediocrity
this monthly mastication
meditate on moving mountains
meanwhile your motivation lacks mana
martial law manipulates the meaningful
make microscopic movements toward tomorrow
magnanimous morons are making marks
these markets miss the deadline
the point is marred by the marry

Sincerity in the face of despair

Singular in direction,
This hall is leading to one place.
Sole, the destination of soul.
In that finite location a bell tolls.
For each of us a single tone.
Ringing clear and distant.
Unavoidable is this,
Finiteness.
A face of truth will guide me kindly there.

Hell

This swirling liquid rises up in me.
The satisfaction causes sin to seed.
Simple smiles breaking teeth to bleed.
Never suffer fools to tempt your seat.
Wimper as a babe lost in the sea.
Trust that blows to bows deserving be.
No curse you utter here will sunlight see.
Death withholds the secret to be free.

Performance

Picture perfect pocket sized portion
Preemptive putrefaction
Petrified
Piece by piece
One per person
A pretty perspective
This playable persona's position
Practically perpetual perturbation
Please prepare for pleasantries
By prostration

not so much

In this middle place I linger
either existing or disappearing
If observation is a requirement of existence
I will never be

Threshold

I am not sure where this falls
Which faction can claim me now
I feel the fruitfulness of either world
Although the tension is building
This fence beneath me is feeling the weight of my position
Someone
Somewhere
Is beginning to look at me with suspicion
Indecision will soon not be enough
The call to arms will be made
My cards will land where fate decides to play

Fire

There is a heat
Rising underneath
Pushing in
Around all of me
A sweltering and crushing wave
With unbelievable force
Squeezing in and expanding
No amount of planning can withstand
Destroying body feet and hand
And we must gladly take it all
With grinning satisfaction at our luck

Ignored

Sometimes I wish I could be seen
To feel that rush and euphoric wave of validation
The work is there
The time is there
But perfections is far from being achieved
If it is even achievable
I long for vindication
All the work and worry
Stress and lost sleep
What for?
Who sees?
I desperately want to turn your eyes in my direction
I see you daily
In my dreams if not the world
So smoothly you exist
Behind a cloud of understanding
I see you
As you pass over me.

aloud

May I feel this?
Is this something we can emote?
I worry as much as I wonder
Where the boundaries lie.
This becomes something that is unapproachable
Like the light at the edges of a dream
From tired clenching of my fist,
I've lost feeling in my finger tips

Chrome

This palace is a floating model of the perfect home
All these people plated in gold with thoughts of chrome
Docking with this brings the sining doors of lighted shows
We are the pallbearers
We are the known
The stage is rising as we remove our clothes
On level ground we unite observed by those below
As the embrace consumes, with heat it glows
Consuming all we see in passionate flow

Turbo

Flying crosses
Pulsing red through crystal gateways
Strike a pose of concerned fear
While understanding all the while
These interlocking fingers hold the truth about tomorrow
Racing toward the escaping light
Slowly swaying in my sight
Bursting flames swallow us
I can feel you coming up behind me
Closing in and helpless I abuse my only chances.

international sameness

Varying the speed at which we walk together
Passers by will stop to stare
With rigid movements we appear
As objects many people fear
This crowd is slowly growing
Showing the willingness to do as told
We are a unitWe are the world

cats

Blind,
Like bestiary bindings
Trying to kick down all the doors in the world
This driving pulse is unrelenting
Over time the cats have over run the place
The animation blurs the happenings
Climbing into the chest you keep at the base of your bed
A world of water color and spires waiting there
My grainy solo flashes in to view
Crowds of people come and go
Mosaic statues stand as sentinels
These towering eyes have burnt all they see

Catch-all

This body of water stretches vast
All you say is slowed down,
Repeated.
Bridges pass overhead
While I watch you lying on the bed
Kissing mirrors,
Lipstick red.

Join me as we pass from bright to blue
serenading me and you.
this water ripples
It holds the secret I was paid to pass.

de-side

I have fallen behind.
A degree of discomfort.
An amount of disregard.
Truly I am not new to this.
Yet you review and chew it.
I can't find something lost,
If I never had it.

Deathly

Worry is a constant
state of consciousness
which I have been
enduring
no matter when I leave
the earth
celestial bodies
continue turning

News

I am constantly haunted.
Ghosts of those that told stories before me.
Serendipity is always a prospect.
For those that in the past have bore me.
Not sure about the reliability,
Of this news story
Please,
Spin a new identity for tomorrow's morning.

Burning Burdens

I've paced this place so many times I could do it in my sleep.
If I didn't already,
Brooding is an all day activity
A welcome substitute to therapy.
It beats sharing anyway.
We quickly cleaved a new trail through the brush.
Clearly.
The burden of bearing crosses fell on us.
We figure, with the reach of Big Brother,
"Why bother not to finger?"
Couldn't stand the lack of backlash.
Back paddling past the crash site.
More than some burning bush in a burning desert.
To me, she will always be more than I could be to me.

Blood In The Trees

Images adrift,
Flow to the place of faces.
A flash of color in a winter-scape.
The music turns dramatic.
How can this all exist,
Inside a world of smell and saviors?
With this brush, I thee claim.
Now we are the same.
See?
Expectations turn the smoke to blue.
In the flames of alchemy,
Beauty forges you.

Belial's Garden

The moonlight blurs the movements
Contemplative and colorless
The chase ensues
Outlasting
Entangled
Grass and dirt and communication
Tangled in a passing moment
Light is seeping from the ground
No remnant of truth will change the course of this
The egg and the ear are open to it
Dancing till the legs collapse
And make the flesh a feast for sleeping ants

Knows

Mirrored in the mid-screen.
Figure in the clouds.
Leaves and feathers dancing.
Fingers reach the ground.

Run in two dimensions.
Sacrifice your dreams.

No one knows what "sanctifying" means.

Primary

How can I render these shapes to be less visible?
Recognition is overrated.
Running up stairs that have no landing,
Frame by frame.
The game is on my brain.
Disembodied eyes on a pale wall.
Primary colors flash.
Ending with exploding black.

In Life And In Bed

Eyes stare as you lie back on this mattress

Perhaps this is worthy of 

Screen capturing

Despite the reputation

That my mind lays bare

Our condition is anything but fair

Hells bells

Well there

Despite conditioning of the air

Only often feeble answers came

See the snapshot of a tear inside the laugh

Admired as a shadow of the vows I said

Forgive the expectation swinging high above our heads

A glimmer of remorse, white knuckled, take the ledge

All is laid in your life as it is in bed 

 

Vanquish

It is hard to see
That such a thing came out of me
Enshrouded in the cloud
Lauded beyond belief
No longer can you count on this
About my pouting lips you siege
No doubt the ships you sent,
Will never vanquish me.

Anger

Rain falls
Electric and blue
Broken concrete
Creeping through the grass
Too close to focus
Soaked in sunburns
Lakes of endless nakedness
Red rising in every eye

Avoidance

She did not yearn to learn.
Hard to discern her first words.
Whats worse than giving a gift horse.
Grief; an unreconciled force.
In the face of fashion flying forth.
Thinking forward lead to leaning back.
By chance and glancing.
Deranged and rabid I stand downrange.
Active attempts at avoiding change.

Test Worthy

How great the precious things I have destroyed,
Or lost for sake of searching.
The sweet taste of yearning rings through,
However true and hurt, we still learn.
With studied glances distant in this rain.
You granted bittersweet refrain.
I meet this moment only baiting breath.
Monumental failure of this test.

In the breaking dawn

As the sun is rising and the eyes are still wide.
The expectation growing but the body seems unwilling.
In a recent past there was a setting of intentions.
The growing shadows brought a slow resolve,
An acceptance of the fate unwanted.
What wonders will this wander wind us through?

below the cushion

I swear I heard a sound just now.
Like a tiny scream for help.
Just past the threshold of hearing.
Fainter than a whisper it beckons me to action.
Perhaps it was imagined.
The danger in my mind fabricated.
Nothing here to worry being neglected.

Best Foot Forward

Every one has one thing in their life.
The thing that thy are proud of.
And also what they are ashamed of.
When you show your face to all the world,
Which of these feet falls first is of great importance.
To choose what is seen is a privilege,
Afforded by few.

Blackout

A crisp thin line of sunlight breaks through the curtains.
Draped across my eyes, licking at the floor.
A glimmer of warmth in an otherwise cold space.
Forceful I am ripped from something fleeting.
Dusty and gleaming, a memory fades out of reach.
What lands had I been visiting?
What supplemental life did I leave?
I try to take specific steps to avoid all of this.
Some force beyond my control has seized the reigns.
Beyond my comprehension I am steered.
To places well past my dreams.

A Glimpse Of Insanity

I waited all day for this
The brief interaction
The flash of color in a room of steel
I know your shape so well
From event and savored memory
When in the corner of a waiting eye appeared
Here, among the dirt of those before
My heart and lungs forgot their job
Mind desperately words the thought
I am no stranger to the truth of things
The distance and finiteness I must keep
But even this, the smallest thing,
Helps to lift the spirit of me
From the abysmal mist of my routine

Wanderlust

Painstaking pains, taken to eradicate the pain of forsaken plainness
The maiden of some plane with shaken, uprooted plants
Mistakes my plans for shame painted shams
The saying of this stains thick and heavy laden oil lakes
Cranes crane their necks and peck insanely at the baker's cakes
Take a check at the brakes but begrudge blame while pumping

Reliant

Must we do this trust exercise?

In the dust of all we left behind.

No excuse can levitate the gaze of your eyes,

From thought to word to deed to regret.

This is the line we beget.

Yet, in the wake of yesterday's passing,

The question everlasting returns to you:

Do we deny our fault in all of this?

Will we turn blind and wordless mouth what we believe is truth?

I will no longer hold seat nor candle for you.

sameness

Why must I rely on definitive unreliability
Am I knowingly betraying my desire for completion
Is success so terrifying
I march this same path
The trail now sunken deep in the earth
Thoughts come
Plans go
I fill the void of yearning with bitterness

Get Your Priorities Straight

All things seem equal
At times the lines of quality dissolve
So much confusion
So much contempt
If I were handed a clear path
Straight from here to success
Would I even follow?

Decide

I've tried to fight my vises
Overtime I think that made them stronger
This may be divisive:
But i'm not sure which is the gasoline
And what the fire is
Looking in the eyes I have
Told many lies which
Divided my fortifications
Conquered my mind it's
A sad shame that I have to act so blinded
Moving would just leave me far behind
When push comes to punches
Kicks took more lives
Hiding in the habit
Always just felt like the wisest

Self Loathing

I hate that I am awkward around humans
Regardless of my closeness to members of the group
I hate that I am alone even with the outsiders
I hate that I don't know how to act around people
Often that is interpreted as being rude
I need you to know I am sorry for that

I hate that I am the result of my choices
I refuse to blame others even when I ought
The weight of that self-inflicted burden is soul crushing
I resent my past self furiously
Almost as it were a separate entity
I hold my future self to a standard I know I cannot reach
All so the cycle of guilt will continue

I look back on my failures with blissful disgust
I purposefully discredit my strengths
The only times in my life that I have experienced schadenfreude
Have been at my own expense
I have earned everything that befalls me
Except the good stuff

I hate that I feel guilty for feeling depressed
I feel guilty for feeling guilty
And worse for dragging others into my mess
If I can't solve my problems on my own
I end up with what I deserve
I guess

I long for sincerity in my life
And from the world at large
But I make jokes at the expenses of whatever I can reach
Just to avoid real connection
I hate that I don't care about anything
For fear of being taken seriously I shroud myself in humor and mystery

I hate the knowledge of my finiteness
I realize that I am undeserving of immortality
Not due to some misguided sense of sinfulness
But because my proclivity for laziness
I hate that I welcome my death
In that I will be free of this struggle for meaning
Chasing moving goal posts
Desperately groping for something that I don't believe exists
At least, not in some objective sense

sameness

The squalor remains
Time passes
Efforts stack
Laziness retracts
And distractions revert
Back to the start
This derelict state
enough afterthoughts and tears
Retrain the muscles
Retake the action
Or the squalor remains

Humanity's Purpose

I am the outstretched hand of death

Through me the reach is limitless

I am a boney finger

Stretched with sinew

The cycle of this reign through me continues

The duties of death so easily being managed

Therefor left free to lounge in celestial bliss

Humanity, in wanton neglect of it's abilities 

Carrys on the oldest job of Gods

We take lives of so many things

With slightest misstep, without a thought

An accident can massacre entire species

When we put our mind to it
What great and ending things we

Would surely make Sekhmet blush

POV

I have been staring out this same window
Been over 30 years now
The scenery beyond has gone through change after change
Just as the structure housing this pane

Something is peeling away inside
Away from the vision of those beyond
Behind the sill shadows are growing long
Just as the structure housing this pain

As awareness is revealed
So to the understanding of it's finiteness
Knowledge that this view will be extinguished
Blinds will be drawn
Lights will be cut within and beyond

Whether I run, arms open, to embrace my fate
Or I turn my back, deny the claim of time and ware
The outcome is the same
As rain runs down the glass
The window turns dark for all

Resist

My feet are itching
Up to my ankles
Can you feel it too?
When I put my mind to it
I can ignore the urge
But I am easily distracted
My thoughts so quickly deterred
Then it is straight to the scratching
Release
Sweet red and dripping relief

Something Found In Losing

Rotten water
Forgotten slaughter
Sing-long-song of long lost daughter
Black and silver
Splintered spoon gets hotter
Rusted
Busted machines
Time wounds all heals
Will she ignore each lesson that we taught her

Family

Something clearly muddied
Muddles mumbled in the darkness
Hunching in mental hallways
Always fabricating humble
Unknown origins
Anticipated agreements
Stains yet to be left on carpets.
This smile is slowly swallowed up in darkness

Illusions

With just the right
Amount of light
Or lack of light
Objects just beyond my sight
Are shifting in the night

What We Must

Not sure how to explained this: I've been up for five days.
Ever since you showed me what it meant to freebase.
Seeking growth exponentially,
Of my productivity.
In limitless anguish,
Indistinguishable from start to finish.
I know of only white knuckled escape routes.
Yet existence refuses to relinquish.

A Spotted Zebra

I see myself in these people.
Despite my attempts to be separate.
No matter my intent I remain a number in this mass.
Head hung in silent reverence.
In revered silence to the slaughter.
I turn my eyes downward.
I do not ignore but do my best to appear ignorant.
In some imagined parallel world
I hold my head high and proud.
My choices hold me out of this crowd.
Set apart by actions of the heart.
I tell myself these things.
I am convinced I stand alone.
But day in and day out,
I hide amongst the crowd.

The Glancing Blow

As a mortal, my sins are bore by soil.
Born by result of a failed recital.
Citations in failed sight observations of oversight.
Night begat daybreak and from its womb the downfall spun.
I fell between brush strokes.
All the poses you strike could not negate the fury.
Final glances rebound within the glass; half full.
The lids squeeze tighter than we thought they could.
Should you look through this barrier you gaze will be dismissed.

Short

If you squeeze me hard enough,
Even I can produce some essential oil.
What I lose in utility I regain in aesthetic.
Or perhaps it is the other way round.
Boiled down and crushed out.
Rendered to the things which make me "you".
But in this state I am shy the pieces that made me what "I" am.
Less of the complete man that stood here once.
More of a shadow of a whole.
A hole in the synergy.
The face of a clock that is short a few cogs.
For the sake of an easy to eat,
Small piece of the cake.

4

Sure
No more
Stop before
The love impure
To take control overt
Swell up from the floor
Save from the shrinking breath
There is nothing healthy left
Nothing hear is said
A shallow step
Bereft

From The Ledge

Never let it be said I had a gift with words
I can not talk you off the ledge.
When I see you on the edge,
It's only questions and demands.
I need to know how we got to this point
befor I can get out from it.
But all this rehashing is a push away
Seen as abrasive attacks.

leech

Keep the bloodline pure.
A little letting for the ages.
Bed wetting is a disease worth getting.
Who would you rather be?
What were you thinking?
If at all you were.
Soft as a snowflake in June.
I can force the poison out of you.
The past is lingering on the tip of your tongue.
Despite the attempts to set it free.
I will never be what I am.
From the burden bore by the past of me.

Let's Talk

I risk some lasting backlash
Grasping at these gaping wounds
Wordless
Straining for reprisal.
Digging through the remains of your emotional wasteland
Hoping to leverage something you left behind.

Rounded

I keep pulling at my hair
Till there is nothing there
Left my scalp as empty as my distant stare
Grasping in the air for something worthy of my care
I just can't shake this feeling
That I have missed my equal share
Sifting this language
Taking steps to prepare
Desperately trying to force this circle into a square.

habits

Just go ahead and pick at it.
Inject all the crud you've been carrying.
Packed under your nails.
Force the black up into the wound you have inflicted.
Sure, thats healthy.

Some truth in it

I know that you are phishing for my attention.
I'm fully past caring.
The harder you try
The more I persist
Trapped in this cycle of withholding
Satisfaction found in your short fall
If the question arises
The answer will always be "No"
If taken  for granted
I will disregard the situation completely.

3rd Person

I watch with baited breath.
I stare from one side of the screen.
With no chance to intervene.
My thoughts may transpire to action on occasion.
However, I often think the reverse order is most true.
First the move,
Then mental gymnastics to justify what ever I must do.

Passing Lane

This is a constant blur.
The rush is indistinguishable from the rest.
No distinct lines separate yours from mine.
All things have come to pass and there they stay.
The horizon is an imaginary line.
Drawn on a contiguous landscape.
I exist in the past.
Too slow to keep up.
To lazy to exceed the speed limit.

Eh too

I have never felt this much anguish.
But you would no nothing of these things.
No so much for lack of trying,
Just a shortcoming of experience.
With all the faults you seem to lack,
Your weakness is just that.
Little more than a crack in the veneer
And you are breaking.

Regardless

I am looking for something.
A relief from this.
A dream from which I never wake.
I stake my life on it's arrival.
But still I wait, just the same.
I am slated for release.
In two, maybe three days time.
But the point at which the clock is started remains,
A mystery to those that watch,
Those that count,
Those that set the pain and feelings on a shelf.
The day will come when I can rest.
The time will come when I can breath.
The day will come when I can feel at peace with myself.

But that day is not today.

forked tongue

A certain charm to the cunning.
Manifest in plastic wrapped, frozen breasts.
All "head and shoulders"
Known to take a ride astride falling boulders
I wince with wisdom of an outcome
And I am wrong.
Words can get you only so far.
Then the mouth must achieve a different precipice.
Perchance the willingness can break free the cellophane.
 

Accept this invite

So little effort.
So short the step.
It is difficult to discern if it is proper in direction.
So meager the attempt.
A glint of work and it is all "Toe-to-heel"
Yet, I am required to recognize the thought.
In a world where that is all that counts.
If I want anything I better count my lucky stars for that ounce.
It's a pair of black and barely there.
A quick costume change and then the shapes remain.
A pose that will not break,
Nor bend,
Nor embrace willingly the calloused hand of forward planning.

Genetic Test

I think I am a part of you
The denied offspring may be me
This may be mine
But we deny
The truth in eyes
Will lie

Structure

We fall in to this
Form
I am a node
Depending on the architect
Language is conforming
And I debate what an object is
The sound that interrupts my modernism
Determines how I represent
An object.
What category do I fall into

The label of purpose

I want you to do this
Yet you make your own choice
I want you to be
What I want you to be.
You will be what you are
Regardless
Of what I want
Regardless
This language has conceived
what I interpret you to be
Regardless of my intentions for you
chaos determines
chaos is the only determiner
It is nothing and everything
as are you.

Am I?

I am not here
I am not there
My view of what "is" is not
My thought of what may be will not be
Am I real?
Am I false?
How am I not Myself?
I built this view of what I am
So you can know what I want you to think I am
This person is a visage of what I am
This person is only hat I am willing to show you.

foolish

Without doubt
I follow this line
Without choice
I determine what is and what is not
but my bias is unbiased
My choice
Is to not choose
I fall short of the choice
The gaps define me
The gaps are my teeth
"I" am beneath me

distinguished

What makes this screen a screen
Always this glass between you and me
The way I view the space between
What separates my life from these

Flies

Hw do I find this?
Such a great difference.
What a grand distance.
And yet I find this home.
I cover the distance in moments.
With a sense
Unspoken
I land politely
Upon what I have smelt byway to.
You can shoo me al you want
But I will land on what I find appealing

Genetic Test

I think I am a part of you
The denied offspring my be me
This may be mine
But we deny
The truth in eyes
Will lie
I can see it
You know the truth
I am me
And
I am you

Built

Withhold the urge
The call of porcelain
The nonsense cannot be denied
I hold it in
the flow is forced
the force is coming
I fed my knees
I arch my spine
Call forth the throws of power
From my toes the blow is shown

Here And There

Every where I go I see you.
In every face.
On every person.
I can't escape you.
Your memory is haunting me.
In every thing I do.
No matter where I run to.
You are always waiting.
I can't escape you.
Nor would I want to.
You are no longer here in person.
I am left see you in the face of strangers.

future

Why must we force these tears
A flickering manifestation of worry
Fear of mortality reflected in this event
Nothing can hold back this show of sympathy
The rushing swell of terror
The concentrated focus of futures truths
We are all headed to that one great place
There is no stopping

Well Defended Position

I am unsure how long i've been here.
It remains unclear the steps that lead to this.
Yet I willingly take the steps to maintain this position.
Waning and failing in the salty glow.
I did not put myself here so willingly,
But now that it is so, I will.
Give up no ground.
The only thing that I have ever counted on.
So willingly given.
So easily lost.
With nothing left but a back to rest upon.
My claws are sharp and so my teeth are gnashing.

Good Mourning

There is a recurring dream that haunts me,
Nearly nightly as the dawn plots to assail my eyes.
In this imagined reality I am always moments away from my death.
Never is it clear what ails me.
Never is it explained what vehicle demonstrates my mortality.
But I am given one task to prolong my life.
As long as I do this simple thing I can live forever.
My charge is to dance each evening before I take my rest.
I am to joyfully express my elation,
As I dance upon the graves of all my family.

frequent

I want to ghostwrite the suicide
Of everyone that stood between
A pair of slowly spreading thighs and me

With coffee stains and scratch marks
Blood cannot deter
Once we set the mind

I take my tobacco with clover and colour
If I can't breath I may as well drown

The people around me end up wasting away
One line at a time they disappear
More frequently than I care to dissect here

fear

What wonders have we robbed ourselves of
By the requirements of social grace?
What discoveries have we systematically seared out
of multiple generations?
For fear of repercussions unknown?
For fear of offense?
How often do we silence our bodies,
And quiet our minds,
For the sake of perceived reprisal?
However slight the potential.

instant

friction has overcome momentum
as the clouds stand before the moon
veiling the potential light
for eternities of stagnation
with no visible motion
progress gives in to contentment
these actions are inactive

pine

I am pining for the time that my breath ceases
Still to weak to take the steps alone
With welcome sobs of joy I run to meet this
Ignore the incline growing steeper
I am steady for this
No shaking breaks my line of sight.

perfect

Something is smoldering below these drying eyes.
The wind picks up and sound, with leaves and death,
Is carried far beyond my outstretched hands.
I cling to this the way I've clung to you for years.
Before the veil was fully burnt I learned of simple things.
The way to your heart was a minefield.
 Despite the weight increasing I can see the emptiness within my arms.
So to are all the things I spoke to no one on that day.
So to the bags of mirth left dying in the bed.
In absence of the sun's golden red rays I am undrenched.

My Own Boss

I am staring at the business end of an entire day.
Blinking in the sudden sunlight.
Drinking in the bewilderment.
Where did the darkness go?
An early meeting perhaps?
There is no external motivation.
There is little in the way of provocation.
Can I keep this up until I die?
I must decide the fate of me and mine.
I trust my ideas and the simulations agree.
The mind is willing.
The body is slow and distractible.
I am the only one that can steer this vessel.
I am the only one that can clean up this mess.
I am the one who made it.

Here I Go Again

Not sure if it is boredom,
Or the beating drum of tradition.
So ingrained in my mental architecture this.
I will fulfill this act of hygienic violence.
Justification stems from cerebral maintenance.
If ever wrongness is perceived,
I surely banished it.

The cracking whip of ignorance is flaying.
My bodily defense is baying.
To this I write my lyrics.
No sooner does the ink dry on this digital distraction,
I will be deeper than my knobby knees.
And lacking traction.  

Brief Infatuation

Turning, folding into self
Great sprays of steam remain,
Unexpected.
A bounce in the step.
A twitch of the mouth.
A narrowing of the eyes is all it takes to see.

Truth cares not of dreams,
Nor wishes.
Delicious wisps whisked into the darkness.
Hold your breath all you want.
But I think death will great me first.

With This I Disagree

You cannot stand alone
There's no place quite like home
The one less traveled surely is the better road

Change comes from within
Things will never change
Change is all you can count on

Money can't buy happiness
Blood is thicker than water
You will always be there for me

Crippling Confusion

I want to know the truth.
I do.
I can promise you that at least if nothing else.
My desire is strong,
and so too the will.
So here I stand.
Starring up at this monumental collection.
A diverse array of dispersed opinionated facts.
More than three-thousand years it stretches back.
Upward these slopes contain so much that is unknown,
So much that is unknowable.
"Where to start?"
Seems such a tedious thing to entertain.
Eyes strain to see some kind and distant end,
A keen point to all the work,
A destination that validates my claim at learning.
I fear no such precipice exists,
Only to be exhausted in the reaching upward.
What kind of goal is this?

Why Am I "I"?

My sweetness slowly soured through the years.
Brought on by relentless machines.
The well is dry from all these bitter tears.
A choice to turn my back on warming dreams
Wake up!
Wake up! comes the cry.
Lofty aspirations are out of reach for you or I
They serve to keep the eyes affixed on things ahead
Inasmuch as body stays in line.

Selfish View

Your actions

In defiance me

Are reflections

Of my shortcomings

A body's response

To the nutrients it needs

But does not receive

From it's regular diet

What could only be found

On the outside

Of what is basic routine

Thus you act

Outside of me

For help the cry is made

I make all the Modifications

But nothing seems to change

Swimming upstream

But the scenery is the same

Network Worth

Celebrity feuds make national news
And the propaganda keeps churning
With only two choices, what could you choose?
Eyes, being blinded keep turning
The options to pick from, pre-chosen for you
My heart, for some hope, still is yearning
Don't make the investment, there's nothing to lose
This power's potential still learning
Bitter resentment mistaken for "Blues"
While the funeral pyre is burning
Then cut to commercial to tighten the screws
Feelings of happiness blurring

Pain's Grinning

With perfect teeth, we
Withstand the sea.
Beneath me something shudders
Violently.
No meaning to glean from this cacophony.
Only time remains, slowly draining
slowly seething away.
This fray has brought us back
Unwilling.
Still standing here in the face of every death
Grinning ear to ear
Lest we be seen for something more of tears,
And less of jest.

Stolen Moments

Gripped and held
Vigorous patience
This routine is becoming daily
Multiplying by the hour
Sweat beckons an end
Rising pulse again
The tide stops short
Of total drowning
Warmth subsides
Winter has arrived
Stillness panics at the sight
Breathing regulates
Memory fails
Smiles give way to filling sails
Carefull endangerment ensues
The top continues spinning
No one wins the lottery this time

Finish Forced

Entirely too forceful,
the way I got here.
Reluctant deeds leed nowhere.
The heart becomes stifling,
Yet still I am rifling through these memories
and imagined thoughts.
Trying to find an opening.
Trying to force the ending.

Rain Delay

There is so little in the way of time.
Or so I tell myself.
Even the elements attempt to derail me
Once I have made up my mind.
There is no way to stop me
From stopping
With pounding heart
And screaming brain
I willingly succumb to imagined pains
There is so much work to do.
The steps at first seem unsurmountable
With minor provocation I could exist
in a constant vacation.
No one else is going to accomplish what needs to be done.
No one else even cares about the change to not be making it.
This feeling of desperate necessity mixed with crippling anxiety:
There is no shaking it.

Requiem's Requested Reprise

Ok,
I pay the man
With silver pieces stolen from a broken shark ride
Gathering dust and leaves outside an abandoned supermarket
How much is happiness worth?
How terrified of sadness are we?
The depth of willingness to avoid things will lead us to some strangeness
All for the hope of joy

I had a family once
I was rounded well they would call it
You never feel the bottom till it has fallen
 I can only stall so much before the eagle swoops in
Looking back on all my life it is hard to see a clear line
Between the things that were good for me and mine
And the point that I gave into sin

Adjustment

There is only so much you can put in this.
Only so much you can do,
And hope to change.
In whose eyes are you seeking hope?
From whom do you seek grace?
This road is something sinister.
The slope does not diminish.
I see your outcome taints your view.
How will you spread this clouded state?

The Stain

This comet passed with surprising speed
Something that rings of acuity
It's slinking rapture piled itself atop me
My world now drowned in it's light
Nothing we meer mortals could hope to achieve
Will ever stand close to the shattering power hidden in these wastes
Lurking under this tumult
I proved myself to something that was just as surprised as I
The only choice that is left before me
Is to wring my hands
Clean myself of this passing iniquity

No Regerts

I sit
and stew
Amid the cloud
I just newly created
while it drifts thru the room.
My only choice is patiently waiting.
I made the choice to bring the thought to fruition,
and it is up to me to shoulder the burden of this new responsibility.

Of Pigs And Dogs

I am guilty of a certain type of resentment.
Felt toward those from whom I am so different,
Yet mistakingly dealt with as if I were the same.
If looks were only so acutely telling,
This world would have a lot more things to blame.
I feel the shudders of angst toward the assumption,
Akin to welcome separation anxiety.
The eyes that I have trained myself to have however,
Force me separate from this group of characters.
Although outside my mind as I may perceive,
I can not change the perspective of the onlooker.
Peering through the lens of experience.
Influenced so artfully by those that I mistrust.
Surly with the time it takes to know yourself,
One could find the heart that appearance is,
At best,
Inaccurate.

A Message To Those With True Power

You can use your own discomfort,
As leverage on the spineless.
Bitter hearts are quick to find the evil in the world.
When a move is made to change,
They are the last to get behind it.
Complacency runs rampant.
Just one click to never mind it.
I guarantee the ones with eyes for this,
Are day and nightly grinding.
How far has come our empathy?
No longer shunned for merely crying.
So long as is approved the morality behind it.
If nothing is left sacred then no mind lies beyond prying.
Lonely stands the human epitaph:
"They died from lack of trying."

Of Mortals

Lost again inside these rolling folds
The deeper colours curling
Washing over me in nocturnal turmoil
Try to pry away my mind all you like
Still I can hear the slowness in the lips
Your tongue is laden with latency
I will not resist the pull awaiting in those furls
Would time allow me to rewrite the world
I would find myself admitting truths
To the wondering pathways of my slumber

Lie in Wait

These flashing lights offer fleeting stability.
Foreshadows of a fragile fertility.
With no way to mark depth,
Stagnation deteriorates ability.
Your lack of self-respect is more than debilitating.
I wish I had the knowledge to hack into brain waves.
Cut through some secret garden path.
See past the defense you are displaying.
But your face was fantastic at understanding.
There is venom in your veins.
The secret strike is waiting.

Sick Stats Bruh!

I hope that someone is in fact,
Keeping track of my entire life.
All these mundane things.
How many doors I've opened.
How many times I swallowed gum.
These things outweigh the monumental.
And in that way are good.
I care not for the triviality of greater deeds.
My curiosity lies in the finer times.
How often I have blinked.
I'd read a novel 20 times,
Were it all the things I've spoken in my sleep.
But in the blistering truth of reality.
I know that no one but my self,
Is keeping track of me.

Come One Come All

I know what follows here.
So bend an ear,
And lean in near,
Should you be so daring.
The outcome is not queer
If you observe things,
Recurring.
I assure you there is nothing that can be done.
To ward the effects from all and one.
So embrace your fate.
Seek solitude in knowing,
There is torture in all fun.

The Wormhole World

Drunk on divinations
Constant contemplation
All this counterproductive construction
Is perilous at best
Give bestiality a rest
Within the chest of hallowed hands
A hole for holding is unopened
Not this trope again
Blasphemy is nothing if not pain
And fat is left unrendered
Torn asunder like so many an unconscious gaping soul
I failed the test

Teach A Man To Fish.

I wish I could be that for you.
I wish I could be there.
Where you need when you need it.
I long to hold you,
When time is desperate.
But that is not me.
That is not my purpose.
I will never be the one you are looking for.
For all my faults and flawed perspectives.
Despite my best intentions.
Whatever deep desire I am shirking,
To be what every one around me needs.
It will never be me.

Eat Less

This preliminary knee-jerk reaction has left me shaking
Teetering on this precipice.
I see no way back from the words I cast so easily
Seemingly they were the best to use,
But as the answer swoons into view
I see my folly.

A little bit more

Slight wisps of air are rushing up to meet me
The feeling a surprise to my shins
But on I push
As if nothing can stop this running thought
With an urgency that would make my father proud
I overlook the dark and growing clouds
With one more burst of oxygen
One last thought of defeat
I cross a line existing only in my mind
No team to greet me sweetly
No flowers laid at my feet
This triumph, seemingly, alone is mine.

Shame Sham

I stand all amazed at the things that cause me shame
Most often naked in the light of blinding truth
Behind closed doors I feel the staring
As if a camera on a crane
Is arcing down and peering simply through the roof

Lamesville

Most of the time,
I am particularly uninspired.
The only thing I seem to lack more,
Is motivation.
Perhaps it is a curse
As much as it is a blessing.
But pulling myself up and out,
Might be easier with a reason.

Front Row Seat

I have reached a point in this investment
Where it would be advisable
To "Cut your losses"
But there is a resonating problem therein.
You see:
It breaks down to the difference between quantity and quality.
The scale is certainly tipped toward the cons.
If you are looking at sheer numbers.
I mean,
These losses are substantial.
Not only that but they are growing exponentially.
With new hole springing every day,
The ship is well know sinking,
And it will be fire and rubble and caskets before long.
However, that synapsis is overlooking one huge thing.
The quality,
Of the only thing,
Residing on the pros side.
Yes it is small in number.
Small as you can get before non-existence in fact,
But size matters not,
And the payout is substantially greater than all the turmoil and toil of ten-fold the losses.
So,
You see,
I would be impossible for me to just,
Cut ties.
Turn tail,
And leave this now.
Plus, Who doesn't want to watch a train crash in slow motion?

The Gift of Screens

All the years of laughter.
All the plot twists and surprise endings.
Every new season.
Each character introduction and passing.
I'd trade it all for some genuine passion.

Every status updated.
Each picture posted.
Every refresh button clicked.
Every clever meme embraced for it's potent brevity.
I would trade all of that for a taste of sincerity.

Every sequel that was worth common name.
All originality how ever few and far between.
Every bit of light captured on film for the future.
I would trade it all,
For a glimpse of physical things in person.

Short and Long Term

My memory is completely failing me.
An equal blur for everything.
Save a few syncopated staccato moments.
Juxtaposed clarity in the void.
Some vivid second of joy,
Or a clever turn of phrase.
A time I was caught in a lie by someone I respected.
Most common: times of pain.
These few things make up what I know of the person I was.
Something like a patchwork foundation.
This thatch-work walkway from missed menstruation to man.
What failing memory offers me,
Are enough things to barely count on two hands.
And those I often need strain to replay.
Every time I am in a new moment of triumph,
Or terror,
I wonder if I will get to keep it.
"Will I hold on to this?"
"Will it make the cut?"

Likely it will fade like those I've come to forget I'd ever known.

Where Have You Been?

Altogether pleasant
What this is unfolding
The choice made in the past
Come to fruition
Granting me what I had hoped for
Even more it seems
Time can now pass unnoticed
This conduit
My eyes
Engorge  upon the find in front of me
While this visage is unwinding
And the pulse is rising
A voice of fear and warning
Constant in the concrete part of my mind
It will not be silenced
Hunger never sated

  

I have felt it in my skin,
As if the cold is setting in.
Winter clawing at my bones,
Without and within.
Shortly i'll be giving out.
No fire can keep me up.
But I will still find time to satisfy my sins.

Dinner's Drank and Evening Is On The Rise

My reprisal is short on arrival.
The mission will have failed by nightfall.
I still align my spine skyward.
For quite a long time I have been caring for my denial.
Acutely aware that I am incapable of making decisions final.
Constantly oscillating on a sine,
Between meaningful and benign.

Strong Drink

This potion is potent
Even for me
It poses a portent
My unraveling
No distance to short
For the thread to travel
But I pull it all the same

Some 'Kinda' Monster.

I prefer to take my social interaction.
Ground-up and mixed-down.
Willingly trapped under a weight of sounds.
These flashing light weekends.
And the throbbing brain mornings they give birth to.
"I can keep this up for always."
Regardless of the consequence,
I hold it in my hand.
I know and understand.
I surely mean to.

Make The Devil Blush

The fearful minds of children startle easily it seems.
Every unknown animosity personified as beasts.
Some monster or some demon
Or malicious creeping thing.

But as adulthood brings on starkness,
A much more 'real' fear enters in.
When squinting through the darkness,
We see a different type of sin.

It is not imagined monsters
that send chills upon our spine
As adults we know that real danger
Lurks far outside of our minds.

The variation in our species
Is the place where 'evil' lives
The things that other humans do.
Is unimaginable by kids.

It would be simple to write off terror,
To some unknown race of creatures.
The truth is much more scary.

The fact that malice lives only inside the human race.

This morning it looked in a mirror.

This morning it washed it's face.

Unconfirmed Side Effects

I landed abruptly
Somewhere on the speculative spectrum.
Remember the make-believe mental malady.
This made up, makeshift, malcontented man.
Imagined by those who've known no pain.
But over the course of this troubled history,
Whether fact or factitious,
All things were made up.
All understanding is make-believe,
And my abnormality is nothing but a winking figment,
Stuck under the contact lens of a lie.

What hits the bottom?

I stayed up all night for this sunrise.
More of a side effect of my failed drive,
A remnant of this yearning for change.
The whiskey helps as much as it hinders.
I exist now only in neutral contentment.
Or am I setting?

Infinite Fallibility

You will find no solid ground to stand upon.
No solace to be had in this self fulfilling proclivity.
Something will drag on through these dredges.
Out in front some visage pulls you onward.
Forever off the resting heels.
You will never feel the shifting of weight.
Caught in a constant motion
Constantly chasing shadows of a future self,
That never was or can be.

Horcrux

I've poured my self into you.
Three were made from splitting two
and keeping it together through the forces tearing.
The truth is too hard to form for you.

I lost my sight inside of you.
In spite of you.
As if by some design so am I blind by you.
No innovation separated what we made.
No words we spake can truly undo.

Starchy

I am nothing but a staple in your life
Living here beside the meat
Important enough to overlook and willingly left for last
These afterthoughts are worse for ware
and the silver is tarnished in your likeness
We can never come back to this for the brevity
But standing upright in your eyes I may be stiff again
In my time

All in good time

Despite the years of experience
The body still surprises.
When lying fires deny
What is behind the eyes.
The hiding truth is lying.
Deny the hope that's vying,
While biding is not buying,
The blinding light is trying.
To reveal the fine tooth's sliding
What the timeless sleuth is finding.

Barbie's Legs

Something is wrong and it was done to you.
Still,
It was my choice to run with you.
The plastic and rubber taste in my mouth,
Will change nothing in truth.
Despite the temporary oral satisfaction.
While these teeth are gnashing,
I fake a burst of passion.
While living in the past tense,
The memory is merely glancing,
But it is your whole foundation.

Can I

Is there ever a hope?
Will I ever really break my chains?
I mean,
I built them myself
Affixed them to my own neck
This weight I hand selected
and these manacles are taught
Will I ever break my bonds?
Do I really want to?

A patient painter I am not

I don't want this life that I have trapped myself in.
Like I started at the door when I painted the floor
Now my only way out is messy
Who has time for patience?

Where has the time gone
It seems like one long day
with everything the standard same
This boredom is my own doing
And something like my undoing
But the fault is my own
and I am cracking at the seams

In the beginning

In the beginning,
I allowed my self to be led by my desires.
The thrill was stil intact.
The controls was still my will.
But time has tarnished the mirror of my soul.
And things I once enjoyed casually,
Are now required for a day to pass through normally,
Wants have become needs.
And my time is no longer my own.