It shifts uproariously, cacophony bringing down the stars to fragment from light and smoke, to being and color. Some more than others decide that these starfish are things to be coveted, drawn from the waters in silent approval of shape and hue. Moods change constantly, and slowly they dry, the...
Because I would not stop for death,He kindly stopped for me.I stole his scythe,Cut him down,And made him bend the knee.His bones did ache and tremble,As the scythe slowly rusted red,But I refused to die,That scythe held high,Forced him to follow a revenant, instead.
It was the day it all turned me away with the silence,That I said:“Hey,Something isn’t right today,Did you tell me you were going away?”It all slipped, like the soap on the shower floor. I can’t take the thought,Of being forgot,By people I once held dear,A fear held by the masses,But it’s still...
Therein sits the rice.Soaking in soy, wasabi.My mouth soon burns hot
New Baby in a rubber baby buggy bumper, mother making mopey messes of interpersonal irrational interrelations of family friendships and other fine frauds. Nearby, nurses nurture the non-conforming patients in principle practices, understanding unilaterally that undertakers make big profits - off...
Why is it that you do not stop, after eating your delicious red meat dinner? Take the time to crack the bones, and suck the marrow? You devour the flesh of another creature, but find it detestable to take out all the nutrients? Perhaps I should make sure, the next time I am eating broccoli, to...
Boiling in my lungs, tungsten gas and hot air, bellowing flame with a snort,Chortling with ease, pleasing you to stop, got me hot under the collar with chuckles,Buckling down and squeezing necks, flexing pecs, doing the giggle trek,You’re killing me, spontaneously and rhetorically,But I can’t help...
For those that mock death with open arms. Enticing him ever closer with his black wings. Fighting against him with faith or blood. Enduring as a species. It is glory in the midst of the fray. The struggle that gives us strength. We ignore the consequences. All for glory.
Waking hours blur into fits of unwanted sleep.Times not appropriate for closed eyes or dreaming minds.And yet - no sleep comes when it is wanted.In those wee quiet hours of the morning.Endless cacophonies of sound - rage in the head like a torrent of horror show backgrounds.Worries, doubts, and...
Dear, you mean more than some underscore written by a semantic. Right now you’re frantic, it probably feels like your heart’s been torn right out of the bone cage you were born in, leaving you to bleed out lost and alone. I surmise that my eyes can’t pierce your pain, much like the rain can’t...
There’s a fire burning in my soul.It burns my heart up each day.Vents heat through my nostrils.My brain melts down.My hands catch flame.I’m burning up.Just burning up.I’m burning up.Just burning up.
Decipher me of blood and bone,To identify the issue prone,For nothing ever seems to lack,Yet love-in-mulling right on track,Interpret me a sea of years,Whisper me a sea of dry-bone tears,But mention once a viper sting,From soft inheritance of life doth sing,And silent holiest of holy nights,Chases...
Perhaps it’s the past, lasting from there to here, yesteryears making me fear for your safety. What we thought we had, but turned out to be deeper than tide pools, young fools with a long distance fling over the internet. Cynical, but I’m willing to bet that it would have burned out, pouting in...
Stage Direction: For Newer Slam Poets Or Actors - Deliver In As Mocking Of A Slang Hick Dialect As Possible. Fear Mongers got driven mad by stronger foes, got a lock for yonder hoes, big business to slick Elizabeths, turn a trick to break the cysts, hundred dollars, fuck it, holler, touch a spot...
Each day - I am loathe to look in the mirror,And see the creature I have chosen to be.Because it reminds me of the power I could wield. But there is a sobering reassurance,In knowing I would live in the dark,But chose the light instead. A far holier man than I could invoke divinity.Yet I trust...
Promise me a sunshine songForever and a dayShe sang As if perfect were such a solaceBut darker broods oft lingered thereAnd liars made quite honest I made a rendezvousOf bitter stateExpecting just as worse But brought down as suchThe jack of tradesMaster yet of some And mourning ritesForever...
Alliteration never prepared me for the conflagration that is change: Ranging from sudden shock to long term anxiety, riding me from top to ground, each round lasting longer than the next. I keep on meeting and greeting but every moment is fleeting, each door opening and closing simultaneously. I’m...
Ripping forth my demons like a hundred angry gnats is an exercise of my true faith.Clawing them out from within, to fill doubtful air,Swarming hungrily a thousand times over.This is one of my only religions.A self-flagellation - singing the heart songs of dead witches; pagan ancestors from a dozen...
Allan Ginsberg, I am not a Gay Buddhist. I am not privy to the secrets of the world through your eyes. I have never been to Australia. Never been mugged leaving my home. Never protested the Vietnam war through cryptic poetry, as it has not existed in my lifetime. I don’t think I’ll ever sit and...
The rage is fuel enough for a million tiny light bulbs, all flickering wildly in the dark. A limitless supply of icy white frosted flaky bones; cold rage as power of will. Wrapped up in telephone wires - we reach out to the four winds and echo the silence of our fears. A grisly man, lacking fears...