Telling Vision

in my youth I watched TV
but sadly, none had cared to tell
that it was not reality
and thus, my life has gone to hell
corrupting every moral code
with no second thought to decorum
just as every episode
taught habits for the social forum
shouting loud and slamming doors
why should I have thought this was odd
and storming off with goods unmoored
to steal them in the name of ~god~
flagrantly objectifying
women as the status quo
pathologically lying
to every person that you know
constantly berating fellow humans
brought so many laughs
however, when I tried to do it
people would then kick my ass
sneaking through my neighbor’s yard
in nothing but a ghillie suit
did not fetch the same regard
when fleeing cops in hot pursuit
still, I tried to understand why
my friends cried and told their mothers
when I poked their eyes and ran
I thought that they would laugh and love it
how was I to know that vampires
were not something that existed
just imagine my surprise
that Halloween I was arrested
no one told me using fire
to burn the evidence was useless
nor that sating my desires
was anything other than ruthless
pulling pranks to shame my boss
never quite had the same effect
for every time my job was lost
they branded me a derelict
the doctor didn’t find it funny
when I diagnosed his patients
and absconded with their money
just to fund my cat’s vacation
why is it that all I’d learned
would only seem to spur police
leave the general public spurned
and earn the ire of Catholic priests
acting disingenuous
was all the rage on every show
but people just turned murderous
when I would use the same MO
every single trope
that had taught me the ropes
on television
has since failed me like the time
I groped her and wound up in prison
when I tried to tell the judge
“But on TV it seemed just fine!?”
he wasn’t so inclined to budge
and now I must serve all my time
the bane of capitalist systems
causes damage far and wide
kids left without supervision
so their parents can abide
to that which Jesus most opposed
and though I might not be religious
much like him I don’t condone
a surrogate duly suspicious
children led by such examples
based on worlds of artifice
become far more than we can handle
with real life consequence
how can we punish the actions
fostered by our guided hand
just to furnish a distraction
so we can meet life’s demands
everyone should take a hammer
run it through their TV set
rise up in a Marxist clamor
before things get darker yet
it’s not right that we associate
our sentiments with falsehood
they can’t misappropriate our lives
then try to claim “it’s all good!”

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

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

Dispatched

dispatched
to the hungry umbrage
spindly wraiths
spill ruination
arms athwart
absorb nullity
boots and RIFs
soon disavowed

whistling timbres
so precise
held brimstone fists stripped
knuckled white
waried faith
lest bullets showered
dulled the Duster pastorales

plucked like florets
bare and breathless
strafing nightly
saw them felled
prowess at imperil’s onset
sweat poured down
a poor man’s brow
loud as telegraphed
impressions
dispossessed
like wingless flies

birds took to the sky
in errant
bursts of aril
none were spared
crimson horrors
void of rinsing
from the hands
of shellshocked minds

blind are days
since hell became us
land of freedom
man as god
sadist thieves
left grief besotted
rotting leaves
pinned to dead air

Pasting the Past Into the Present

a poem is but
a restive cluster
grasping
onto pages
with our frantic
fears conspicuously
calling out
for rescue

meticulously poring through
decrepit thoughts
of hoarded visions
kiss to tryst
to triste
in a blissful
dissolution
before sediment
comes nigh
where sighs undress
our destitute descries

calculated coalescence
pandering our pride’s
priviest imprints
curling chips of paint
exposing throes
of yesterdays

sacred cruxes
born before
our burgeoning bereavement
from whence all
embarking destined
for a distant hearken
poised to be
impartially presented
in pretentiously penned
appropriations
parsed
to pierce our peers
appetition
to sate this
untold inquisition

Aversion

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ere i walked the shadows
of a shameless life eschewed
i sometimes talked for hours
on the telephone
’tis true

attending to the inbox
which would hold my correspondence
until one day i stopped
having become too despondent

seven years have come and gone
and still i have not looked
nor listened to my messages
not even on facebook

this plague pervades
most every aspect
of my adult years
i since have lost the respect
of my family and peers

for they can’t see the reasons
nor the logic of my plight
its tragedy is lost
amid the inference of their slight

presuming that it must be
that they’ve somehow drawn my ire
some say i’m maladjusted
others think i have retired

i cannot help but panic
upon hearing rings and tones
instilling in me frantic feelings
reeling in my home

truth be told i have disabled
every last alarm
and push notification
for they only cause me harm

and should you try to reach out
with an intention to touch
you’ll not invade this redoubt
that has long since been my crutch

and if you are to know me
then you first must understand
even if you are the homie
you can talk to your own hand