A Friend’s Goodbye

my dear old friend
what end has come
by no means just
to live this dream
from which your eyes cannot awaken
who dares to rob this vacant hell
from one so true
we knew so well

who’s laugh was always our’s to share
by which i mean “our” family
you had scrapped your way
inside hearts sworn rigid without erring

a friend of genuine regard
protector of my sisters’ honor
our mister Jesse “Lame” Stamper
my brother time forgot to spare

such vital energy once coursing
through the veins as though my own
but yours was rife with staunch resolve
and none have since dared
prove such courage
surging taller than what heights
a man could bear to fall

cowardice lurks veiled inside
all stations of men ever known
no dignity near consequent
that could outshine your valor
all that mattered shone inside
the love for those you held

years have sunken silten seabed
whence we cried out “punk is dead!”
to myself, i have lied
just to say those words
and tears not shed

on that day, when first i learned
of darkness, that could not be heard
it struck me like a sun combusting
fulgurant in its static pulse

6 years ever as my senior
trapped in surpassing each one
tripped up in a past illusion
somehow ripped right from the stars

Jesse, you are with us always
like the ink that left its mark
love etched into the flesh forever
lives on within our minds and hearts

Expression*

each thought, a breath
of restless air
daring to breach realms consequent

separating sound
from silence
bound by ego’s blight
and sleights inferred

surrounding every word
that wanders
out of sight
out of mind
and wayward hope
for rote concurrence

But Here I Sit

i should probably bathe

but here I sit

i should probably eat something

but here I sit

i should probably shave

but here I sit

i should probably go to work

but here I sit

i should probably tend to my ablutions

but here I sit

i should probably get out of bed

but here I sit

i should probably live…

 

 

 

A Thank You

amid the autumn embrace
of this fated fantasy
i stumbled to awaken
in the outskirts of a dream
with every lucid moment
pigments rich from painted past
voices, faces, feelings
more familiar than the last

my every thought, mistaken
by the vacant world i’d known
shone forged in the foundation
of this humble hearth i roamed
the kindness deemed as weakness
preyed upon in days of yore
now flourished as the impetus
to spur the heart’s implore

the essence of my exile
was found precious deep within
the radiance that beamed from smiles
and hearts of honest friends
the endless hours of anguish
seemed to vanish in the void
of resonant romanticism
emanating joy

though not remiss to disregard
the suffering imbued
upon the weary countenance
of every life accrued
such love was seen ensconcing
from the onset of the eve
that ever shall remain inside
again ’til i am freed

so if i may display in earnest
gratitude sincere
the difference each of you has made
in ways beyond compare
for all my years i was bereft
of those who shared my world
now every time a tear is shed
it greets the earth impearled

rant of existential fallout

i’m having a false memory about a dream i once had in which we all existed inside of a forgotten pocket of time that had folded in upon itself and transmuted into a vibrational frequency of such dynamic harmonic resonance that encompassed the entirety of all things both quantum and cosmic on a spectrum of infinite looping which so enraptured our corporeal coils in an ensconcing of such esoteric acquiescence that we instantaneously interspersed into the essence of our absence in transcendence to placid dimensions of eminence and omnipresent consciousness that spanned the heavens far beyond the liquid crystal windows through which we present ourselves as denizens in varied states of indiscretion vetting the significance of cognizance amid existence venting to avail our failings falling from our fleshy prisons vying to compose a comprehensive version of our vision through the vices implemented to prevent the avaricious evils that have sequestrated every living soul inside of silent isles of self-exile meanwhile their wastrel lusting spurns our precious chance to dance with freedom compromising all that we had ever grasped into an astral dust then scattered shattering the poignancy that once we stood to gain but rather than forgo the ego they would sooner let go of the reigns whence they had commandeered in vain through poisoning the coursing veins of mother nature with disdain and disregard imparted by their phantom hearts of darkness drowning in disreputable logic marred by hyperbolic deviants colluding with the devil deftly orchestrating devolution of every amalgamation made up of the molecules that rule our only known subsistence in this distant form that undulates between the egress of our fated path from womb to tomb to aftermath whose ingress we are left to guess in ponderance of great distress so dauntingly ubiquitous the impetus of our bequest

A Saltwater Pillow

a saltwater pillow
a seabed of sacrifice
halted souls
crucified
beset through no fault of their own

heaving the weight of imminence
awaiting reply
denied of static reflection
from strident pleas
stricken with lost redemption

calling to arms
of open embrace

to turn and face
these fears we hold fervent
through mirrors not of spurned inquisition

to yearn for such tears
sprawling from visions propitious
where no bridge shall burn
come the falling of night

and the weary shall rest
upon plumes not behest of ruinous provenance

with nary a jest to be heard
from the passive prose of pain
transposed into peals of shaming

so those yet remaining
could claim to know freedom
that needn’t bear force
hailing from implores of heedless empire

for virtuous deeds
do not harbor ill will
from beyond barbed partitions
poised to repudiate
the porous skin stretching
so pious to bypass our sins

long since showing pellucid
to bare our every known truth
now effusively blaring
the state of this wretched condition
none dare would call human

Beneath a Bellowing Sky

i once awoke
inside
skin
so thinly disguised

as compromise

drew lulling tears

until i was shaken
by words unheard

from thoughts
unspoken

uttering
of consequence
beyond

these walls
where echoes go

to greet death
calling

as throes
of discontent

and gloaming bathe
the hollow hearts

beneath a bellowing sky

Ego, Ergo I

ego

ergo I
forgo

grief afferent

from florid faces
fraught

with frigidity

found
in reflection

pontificating

on ploys

to placate
validity’s degradation

Paper Dragons

these words are as paper dragons
set aflame in the minds of my enemies

should they ever choose to notice

what wrath they would feel

but the winds of chant carry no weight
and wait for none who spurn the hour

and so the depths of forests felled
again shall fall on deaf ears ringing