Poetry
PLEASE WATCH
𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚍
there is a blue bird vagabond
some say bad motherfucker
stepping strong
others have yet to hear
how he chirps to those songs
of old Lou Reed
soft spoken when he chews on the worm
self imposed exile
in the cage forged from fleeting truths
decoy soul within the vulture kettle
there is a blue bird wanderer
hopping from dream to dream
pecking at the hollow of his heart
in hopes of softening the cruel stare
of abandoned turtledoves
painted arms poem for Joey
i was led to believe that angels became extinct
that i a wretched sinner would not ever look into their eyes silver slate reflecting the color of God
i was informed that i did not deserve to ascend a rocky road unless the stones beneath my feet trip me to watch me bleed
but out of electricity and behind a curtain of anonymity the angel was and he appeared to comfort the devilish fear of climbing that mountain chosen for me
none the less along our way thorns and thoughts of human scorn did plague me
but this angel with Porciuncula’s history painted on his skin sat with me in the time of my atonement
still so i could hear the rushing of my blood for the first time in my life
then as only angels do effortlessly ushered me into his arms when the gates of heaven broke apart and explained to me that it wasn’t my time now but to follow him back down where real life would unfold once more and that the gods judged fit to send him with me to save me from myself
prints of silence
there is no peace
but just the
same i welcome such beautiful pain
beneath the twilight across the house where hope died
my essence lingers rootless derelict fool
my soul
the prints of silence tread the horizon where your muted light lives
from one thought to the next
if only i could take the ache away
snatch it from you
hide it from your face
if only i could soak up your tears
soothe the fear
that worlds collapse only in you
those monsters too akin to my mind
restless i wait knowing you’ll never arrive and still i look
strain the very nature of my sight
optimism passing like the fragile snow flake
you, hurt
you, hurt so succinctly
just hurt
at 346pm
inside worlds move simultaneously
politics heresy peace nihilism
ides no longer just
in March but forever
thoughts on being men
women on lay over
we think too late
archaic rebellion manifesto now
sold at local retailers
the revolution will be
AI shrapnel lands on
where he needs to
make amends neutral we
quiver as we’re lead
convenience in our head
riffs asunder in a
past that grappled with
the rights of gods
we the people found
in loss but ego
40 year engagement strong
the greatness of our
thoughts freedom at what
cost let us ponder
grief at the shift
of our great age
nothing certain short of
death tearing down the
walls of hate running
circles talking heads lowered
anarchies repossessed mid loan
hope in the periphery
on failure
anger your way of loving me
creviced are my wounds
silent they exist like a tomb
waiting patiently for messiah
scold me you a fury pummel me
with orders decide for me how to be
when i gift you my soul blood
with silk petal finger tips
yet
as my own hands turn to nurture me
paralysis afflicts them
they fall to my sides like fading ash
so i move on through the night alleys
my youth my age displayed on the shadows
where i grew and still the stains of uncertainty
taint my compass where now to?
i yearned for truth in my heart clear like
Buddha’s breath and still you were not the one
to encase me in loving arms
ache
there is no reason
other than your skin
taught cold against me
your favorite words inaudible
we speak the silence
pink tongue yours me
unjust gray verbs making
me ache for you
Montegue
never knew vulnerable was so hard
or how bright your dark side of the moon could shine
or a heart so easily torn apart
at the death of a wilted flower
347e
the thoughts of the sounds you make your face in pain your eyes ash gray grow like wild honey suckle vines outward from the insides of my composting heart
look she says can i get a break today my blood borrowed by thirteen murder scenes lined up coming from my vocal chords ready for the gate to fall
i know the demons they feed well from me the prescription don’t eat before the range or you’re gonna get rotted rice and peas rolling down your caved in chest
the elders said before you were set free to the prison this would be caution daughter and sons your fathers were heavy into maleficent fun be advised that their sins you’ll be liquidating
words less spoken 