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
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
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
Through These Words
you will see
my pain
the endless hours spent
the triumph
of this misery
in a momentary squander
you may wander
through the pages torn
and wonder
how i speak your truth
the one
stayed by a stinging tongue
layered ‘neath a stolen sun
abeyant
at times
we will laugh together
rain may fall
on distant ground
and the secret
guarded smile
will have vanished
left untold
on the cusp
of thought symphonic
on the path
of parting stream
though we understand
the story
who we are
remains unseen
mystery becomes our warden
through these words
of sought reprieve
A Pseudo Farm
with lackadaisical regard
i watch as they dwindle
one by one
and sometimes two
or more
i never formed
a reason to rhyme
until time descended
upon me
like a pornographic impulse
brew me another cup
of disillusionment
while you’re at it
that last one
nearly fit the bill
sometimes
i wonder if i actually will
or would
or could
of course,
there is no question
as to whether or not
i should
though i am
but a coward
in uncomfortable skin
i’ve worn out
since the day
the world informed me
as i swallow
more
to boredom’s pallor
like a Fuller Brush Man
in a town inhabited
by ghosts
where nothing hearkens
but the silence
that consumes me
as a void that lay
between two mirrors
spared of my own completion
This Dream
i awaken
to words of kindness
from friends
and strangers alike
but there is nothing
strange about this pain
that we share
this bridge
we have all built
through the sorrows
of our time
grants us more
than a fleeting respite
as we gain
the understanding
that none are alone
that every struggle
affects us all
that our face is seen
our voice is heard
our truths, known
it is only in togetherness
do we stand
to court the hand
that bears the gift
of the morrow’s ingress
know, my friends
there are no strangers
among us
let us walk bravely
into vales
of unknown consequence
for love
shall harbor no secret
when its light
has finally shone
to guide us home
so it is, was
and shall ever be
this dream
e’er haunts humanity
In That Darkness
it is only
in that darkness
unburdened
by the sun’s insistence
when the vilest
of creatures vanish
do we assemble
in legions
of hypnagogic afterthought
to worship our liege
of argent gloaming
like romans
in their own day
we take
to excess
to banish the dross
of existential blowoff
which echoes in these chambers
of mitochondrial horror
with implore aimed
at staying all tomorrows
whilst stranded
in the dregs
of yesterday
When Consciousness Comes Calling
there is a pang
when consciousness
comes calling
magnetic forces
disrupt the atmosphere
and dormant thoughts return
as torment ripples
throughout my being
with the ominous silence
of imminent shockwave
bearing the gravest
consequence of logic defied
tearing me
from the static sepsis
of my heart’s invasion
to answer its unbridled beckon
with blinded reckoning
as i shudder to behold
the untold tale
of my greatest failing
through portals of peridot
long dulled from life’s laments
sodden earth
from sullen stream
once culled from squalor
placed within the bezel
of my breast
and pulled me from this berth
by the undertow’s drag
jilted like sloughed slag
amid a mournful requiem
of shrill remorse
The Silence of Forever
my spirit longs
to be the stars
that fill your sky
my heart would shine
reflections
of its truth
to lift you
up into a realm
where solace
sings redemption
that once
you laid upon me
by the mercy
of your kiss
but even vigilance
has lost its vested path
these broken roads
no longer
reach epiphany
as apathy
alone
absconds
with wistful dew
i thought
would one day
compose a river
through the valley
whence our love
had rent the earth
that i might sail
those tempestuous waters
in search
of where the willows
wept your name
but all my efforts
toiling at the pulley
have only returned
buckets
of morass
wrested hands
from years
of untold callous
now leave me
to attend
this ghostly shore
where sorrow comes
to lay for death
in prostrate
with arms
of clay stretched thin
succumbed to dust
once sought
to sway the forces
of the cosmos
with hope
to never stray
from its embrace
as mountains
birthed of mirthless
apprehension
would vanish
into the silence
of forever
Mistaken
when I tasted
the ground
my world
was no longer
for what I had found
was stronger than death
when my face
grazed the earth
my sight
torn right from me
I gazed at my worth
were life not a freedom
the crashing of bones
knees, elbows, and skull
would fall into silence
upon urgent moment
the brashness of one
fleeing from the lull
appallingly useless
for all, consequent



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