in layman’s days
sorrow yet reigns
in remnants
of our love’s refrain
disseminating
through these veins
like silken web
to dying flame
a sallow face
of shallow waste
e’er haunts the gallows
hollow space
as wraiths in fallow fields
yet reap the harvest
of a heart’s disgrace
none can replace
the solace lost
absconded by
the albatross
e’er perched atop
the arch of Eden
bound by freedom’s
final cost
where pandered woe
bleeds disarray
sleeves brandishing
a heart of clay
turned languid
from the anguish
of exsanguination
on display
Tripping
we experience
our own expression
subjectively
in the form of dreams
our subconscious
is the peripheral landscape
flourishing between
the diametrical opposition
of a contiguous mirror
as we stand
in the midst
of chaotic illusion
alluding to the infinity
persisting in each dimension
and that
of our existence
within every aspect
of eternity
itself
as oneself
as everything
and nothing
in perpetual states
of entropic balancing
behind the masquerade
of conscious awareness
through the cosmic filter
of relevant perception
personified
Separation
imprisoned
in irons
of ivory’s irony
inconsolable
impenetrable
in spite of ourselves
a splintered perfection
o, splendorous winter
let us seep into the silent spring
to sing assuagence
and sate the urgent seas
with tempest
It Matters Not
it matters not
what sinewy strength
you strut
with such braggadocio
the artifice
auspiciously adorning
your display
what conquest
you proclaim
in compensation
for your lacking
what brazen
domain
you should presume
over mother nature
what flagrant disregard
that you would show
your fellow
human
the speed
at which your steed
feeds dust
to sate your weary foes
the dubious dimensions
nor ornateness
of your codpiece
the arbitrary
shackles
in which you confine
your pawns
the clamor
of your calls
to claim a throne
by way of bloodshed
it matters not
for you
will never
be a man
without first
embracing feminism
Avoidant
avoidant
that’s what they
call it
the truth
is that i’m terrified
scared
out of my wits
afraid
of the horrors
that await
in the unknown
abyss
of uncertainty
where all of my dreams
go to die
the term
“avoidant”
to me
implies
willfulness
the only thing
i so desperately wish
to avoid
is this
Such Dreams Expire
pray this memory
tell no lies
in light
of truth
since shone
to strip me
of my last reprieve
pray not
these newly fallen whispers
speak ill
of our erstwhile tales
should they unravel
all my world
would vanish
into despair
for every sinuous
sorrow felled
arose
a sanctuary
that once
we shared
to dare
such dreams expire
but time
forever
radiates
in solemnity
and thus i am fraught
with this aching moor
of that which
i can never
come to mourn
“Feed the Kitty” – Everyone Needs To See This At Least Once In Their Life…
Behold, the power of true friendship and love that transcends all boundaries. The single greatest cartoon to ever be created.
*BONUS RHYME edit
cats are adorable this is the truth
it would be abhorrent to try to dispute
and if you should make an attempt to defame
any kitty cat then you might end up slain
for i don’t take kindly to negative words
aimed at my kitty cats or at their purrs
all hell will break loose i start kicking caboose
and there stands a good chance of someone getting hurt
cuz i’m smitten on kittens you’ll see if you look
it’s written throughout all the history books
it’s deemed as a crime to fuq with the sublime
and you might just wind up hanging from a skyhook
should you ever dare to disparage a cat
by claiming domain then we must have a chat
and heads will then roll because i lose control
and i will proceed to then beat on the brat
for cats are the ones who have stolen my heart
their fuzziness is just like way off the charts
so cuddly cute should ye ever refute
then you leave me no choice but to rip you apart
i know what you’re thinking “this dude is insane”
“the toxoplasmosis went straight to his brain”
these may be the facts so I suggest you act
on your best behavior and show some restraint
cuz i will risk all to protect any kitten
it’s highly advised that you best get to gettin’
i pray you comply otherwise you will die
cuz i’ll end your life in the spot you’re now sittin’!
Freedom of Words
i have never written
anything
these words
are not
mine
these thoughts
i may
possess
to some degree
perhaps
i act
as the filter
through which
the collective
experience
accrued
by this feeble form
speaks
to the world
my expression
does not belong
to me
for i am unable
to behold its presence
our words belong
to one another
just as love
suffers
no dominion
but persists
in the form
of all things
in every temporal instance
as the one
singularity
of our existence
thank you
for sharing
in this experience
Every Day
every day
we awaken
edging ever closer
to oblivion
none
can say
how or when
some dare
ask why
only one
stands
to find
out
i for you
and
i for i
[Artwork: M.C. Escher]
rant of dreams forsaken
In life, we are plagued with many things.
Some serve to compel us forward.
Some, seem only to exist to thwart our pusillanimous progress toward the arbitrary goal of being human.
What on earth is this innate desire to adhere to such ludicrous standards of corporeal existence?
What is this tethering to that which can only be thought of as tormented torturing?
To be able to reasonably anticipate the fate of each moment is a fate worse than death itself.
To know the rhythm of each step.
The cadence of every footfall.
To know the precise frame of time in which that insidious sliver of seeping sunlight will slip in through the window’s crack to smack you into the oblivion of consciousness.
Beholden to the call of nature’s never-ending reminder that our minds are moored to primal needs to which we must abide.
To know that dreams we hope to reach are ever dangling within our reach on string-bound carrots tied to sticks that sit firmly within the grasp of capitalistic ceremony.
Only to be ripped from our hands as the sky rips off its fleece of sloe that flickered with the promises of worlds we’ve yet to know.
Worlds we once had known.
Our dreams become less reasonable as reason wriggles into our conscious condemnation of the hope we must forgo.
The cost exceeds the measures of the treasures life might show us.
And so, we go from lavish fiction in depictions of our making to the stark and unforgiving scripts seemed written solely to afflict us.
Imprisoned by a temporality that deems our freedom nothing more than fruitless. Scheming to destroy the only things that make this life worth living.
And believe that it’s a given, that regardless of how much we strive to live the lives that linger long in silent songs that writhe in our subconsciousness, we slowly die each time we’re forced to lift our eyelids open.
To the moment of our hope’s demise, we try to trick ourselves into thinking thoughts in which our dreams aren’t sinking fast like ghostly ships aghast into the vast, dark abyss of bottomless abandon.
So that we might barely subsist.
This is not the life we want.
Dubious portrayals made to convey a fervid fantasy none can achieve lest they bereave their one and only soul’s reprieve by leaving all that could have been. To sleep beneath the silent seas of muted pleas whose surface screams tempestuously with festering feelings of remorse and discontented cries of silent implore.
Born into a life of languishing where anguish rules as king with such an iron fist, the siren’s kiss falls into effigy.
It’s far beyond what’s known as wrong but come the shadow of the dawn we must persist as listless pawns e’er clamoring just to go on.
For if we were to choose a fate not left effete by our own feet and force ourselves to deviate from what’s accepted and expected we would find ourselves neglected by our peers appearing queer whose scolding sneers and jilted jeers sustain our ever-loving fears of failure as our freedom fades. As quickly as we can adhere to anhedony-addled tears of consequence beyond compare.
We forsake freedom for the sake of filling holes of corporate waste for ends that we will never taste.
A lifetime spent with egg on our face.
There is no hope for time replaced.
Still, knowing this, we must awaken without time to contemplate our dreams in hypnagogic states that hold the key needed to free our soul from these arbitrary weights.
Inflicted on our conscious being bearing on our consciences absconding with the only thing that would ensconce our existence.
But our purpose has been purloined for acquisition of gold coin in copious amounts of which we’ll never see by all accounts.
As pointless is this penned appeal I must present this truth concealed for I must voice these things I feel lest I succumb to my ideals of suicidal impetus of such unbridled force that thrusts upon me like this bed of bricks from where I now sit writing this.



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