you call to me
just as you are
flying
into freefall
so i may feel
the sting
e’er death’s
loneliest
affliction

you call to me
just as you are
flying
into freefall
so i may feel
the sting
e’er death’s
loneliest
affliction
a classic from mister Ryan Kelton
Resolution
I must remain—
I must hold on
For as long
As I can.
This rope stretches out
Into a void
That drinks light
As I drink air.
Each fiber sinks
Its teeth into my nerves;
My entangled sinews
Are pulled upwards
Inch by inch,
Year by year
Closer
To an end
I cannot see—
The glare blinds me.
This is the light
For which I seek—
This is all that I have left,
Caught along the path
By the daily wax
And wane;
Here I must stay
Until my skin shatters
And my bones crack
Into sand
Once more;
Nothing left
Besides
The silent shore.
[5/6/11; edited 1/6/15 & 3/1/17]
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
love succumbs
to lucent droplets
gathered
in the great divide
numb with pride
as fate untethers
two hearts
‘neath a redshift sky
epic expressive depth and wordplay from oldepunk

I witness
have become an eye-witness
to your atrocity
or do you see it as generosity?
fastidious interventions
causing causation
burn the incense in
your chambers of innocence
we clamor for notoriety
under tables and in backrooms
torturing our propriety
did we ever own any of our reality?
I witness
have become defenseless
left alone with our decisions
unbound and tied down
cotton candy inquisitions
color me black and blue
I will not forgive you
or your indiscretions
we are aiming for you
running for office
we swallow the implications
cutting away the cancers of
your manipulations
I see you, i.c.u.
sycophant money-maker
obsequious servile wretch
insect eyes with reptilian mind
you of uncommon birth
misshapen perfection silver spooned
with the air of failure
and a scent of red jasper
mood stone stoned in hate
greed and lust
arbiter of rust
assassin of trust
I witness
I tasteless, more or…
View original post 101 more words
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
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
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!”
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
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
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