Category: Existential

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My Kingdom

time itself
has given up the ghost
muted
on a pagan plane
as plain as pain’s appeal

gone are days
and nights
chasing the giant’s
vast display

surrendered to a sermon
of arbitrary refute

what was once a spectrum
of polar prismatic flourishing

has long since vanished
banished by the goddess
of the moon

spirited away
with my existence
in a haze
of persistent clouds
of miasmic dismay
in disarray

when i heard you speak

the truth of all the ages
came and went

as every ounce of my kingdom
collapsed before the wincing stars

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Solicitudes Become Us

with all that we may stand to gain
or lose
upon a single breath

prudence yet eludes
our voice of truth

flaunting our pathologies
solicitudes become us

highwaymen who strum
submissive hearts

creatures born of covetous
convinced by vaporous conviction

candy coated candor
with a cracker jack surprise

desiccated eyes
no longer fit
to hold this thin disguise

rolling to reveal a hollow head
where tears unshed yet hide

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Eternal Mirrors

let the earthen bounty
be your pillow
as the balsam breeze
tucks you in its whispered lull

tonight
our frailty
is forgiven
heaven dare not fathom
to assail us
whence we lay

its offerings
are present
for the taking

as prismed apparitions
through shifting crypts of time

searching for the shadow
of forgiveness
where folding stars
outstare the eye of jupiter

death is but a fear unsound
thought traps within
the silent walls that bind us

stepping through
eternal mirrors
on journeys shared as one
‘neath these precious suns
of stoic tempest flare

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Furtive Moons

there are only so many metaphors
that serve to justify this pain
so many words
chewed up
and spit back out
onto surfaces
whose purpose
carries all burdens

these feelings are like water
journeying alone
in a fearless freefall
crashing into the earth below
to join the fates
that all have known

still, each fragment
leaves its mark
for others to embark upon
in the hour
of our exodus to exile

the skies belong to one
as one to all
as life itself
bleeds into the eyes
at the horizon

we take our tragic pittance
wrought from anguish
each within the alchemy intrinsic
to their own

to spin the loom
and weave majestic tapestries
of triumph
to share the secrets
intimately held
by furtive moons

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Take Heed

the well of inspiration draws from sources which are infinite
to bridge connection to each one demands forethought discriminate
we must maintain fastidious pursuit of new experience
to formulate the truth of our expressive voice in variants
each origin is cyclical in its availability
therefore we must commit to an atypical agility
lest we submit to dormancy, a fate surely abhorrent
we must all embrace the stormy seas and revel in the torrent
even everyday minutiae has a merit worth attending
it is only in this spirit does our muse become unending
this exemplifies the reason why we must remain objective
exercising our innate ability to be reflective
analyzing every aspect of the open world around us
sees us not to jeopardize our very existential impetus
for many things persist within this life which can demoralize
in manners most ubiquitous seen fit to leave us compromised
thus rendering creative function far less than fortuitous
engendering superlative compunction most gratuitous
it is upon such moments when doth art submit to artifice
and hearts succumb to numbness amid constructs born of avarice
therefore we must ensure to heed a purity of influence
and shore up our defenses courting verity with confidence
to hearken only calls which bear the mark of authenticity
embarking on our journey poised with prudent perspicacity
for muse is but a fickle and capricious force by nature
to abuse it only serves to redefine its nomenclature
hence, we must stay mindful and forgo the fruit found on the lowest branch
lest we are left to wallow in the throes of sophist circumstance
and such is not a fate abating idealization
of our suicidal woes, condemning our souls to damnation

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Drifting Into Ruin

our distance
belies summation

amid the sacred frivol
we chose
to quantify
ourselves

defiant
like the sentience
of existence

inundated
with the drivel
waning tides forgot
to tell

timeless dimensions
lay between
the worlds
within these walls

teemed with apprehension
we haplessly watch
verity unfurl

drifting
into ruin

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Retro-Spectrum

time
was the circumstance

that drove paper nails
through weightless
coffins

to think
we once knew

as desperately
we dangled
from tresses
of concession

composed of gold

which stretched
for many miles
beyond

the trenches
of our youth

i look now
upon days gone

eschewing

but nowhere
are you to be found

lost
perhaps

in the vaulted yonder

where obsidian
gaurds
the earthen tomb

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Transmuted

there are more thoughts
within this faint entropic masquerade
than will ever see the humility of expression
were that they could be fit for some metaphor
that might convey a sense of infinite eternity
alas, the landscape which bears the collective essence
of my earthly experience cycles in an orbit
as scant as the tip of this pen
I am but a mere fleck of fading ink
revolving around a feckless dash of happenstance
one that once saw fit to encompass
every fiber of my fleeting flesh
fortifying a form so feeble
with belief that life was far more
than just the sum of its paltry components
the feeling which fate is remissful to frivol
that which defines a purposeful flight
through this finite illusion
alluding to skies that touch freedom
where fear goes to rest
to say I had fallen would be folly
for such would imply that I was not
as flat to the ground when first I found footing
flooded with rains wrung from wrenched rumination
relinquishing all of my being
into hinterland arms of her wintry repose

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Great Big World*

beyond
my front door

lies a great
big world

more vast
than is humanly
comprehensible

a veritable cornucopia
of prospect propitious
and liberty endless

brimming
with untold
opportunity
and infinite possibility

for me

to swiftly
and precisely

meet
my ultimate
demise

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Friendly Reminder

last time i told myself that it would be the last
but here i am again looking in the past
my memory so freely flees into the breeze
the instant that the moment passes before me
i can’t explain my inability to see
from the perspective granting objectivity
much like a cognitive bias against the self
in which my own best interests have been shot to hell
what makes it worse is everyone else seems to know
so quick to remind me wherever i may go
when all is said and done they say “i told you so”
as though their words are something to have been bestowed
well i suppose they may have something of a point
i’m still compelled to thusly disconnect their joints
the only thing that’s worse than chronic fucking up
is hearing it regaled by someone acting smug
you’d think that this alone would solve things without fail
but i am human; ever prone to get derailed
and for this very reason i am bound to kill
when comes a cocky bastard telling me to chill
which would explain the growing pile in my back yard
composed of corpses of those lacking such regard
take my advice when someone states they’ve had enough
that’s not the time to try and call them on their bluff
nor is it prudent to act disingenuous
nor to allude to any breaching of one’s trust
i’m not just preaching some type of friendly heads up
if you keep reaching, your demise will prove abrupt
of course, you’re free to take this any way you want
just don’t act so surprised when i do as i am wont
in case you missed it that’s the wonton reverie
of your destruction since you chose to fuck with me

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