Stoic Submission

even now
when thoughts of her
affronting love’s convention
have shuffled off
the consequence
befalling our mistake

do trails tell truth
of hours attending
context tread anew

disavowing fated remnants
lingering devoid of interest
bleeding web of understanding
weeping reaped
sown of her seed

in retroactive disillusion
memories become unraveled
like the sutures
faintly tethering us
at the tearless seam

so it seems
as days unfolding
shattered moulds
tinged with decay
hinging on pending perspectives
shifting lights shine
fears display

in the barren sands of ruin
truant cheeks
turned weak of will
baring thoughts i pray not bear

surrendered to stoic submission

The Sleepless Hour

drowning
in the darkness

silence
rests upon her lips

i long
to lift my leaden head

paralyzed
by thoughts of living

seconds drifting
in and out
from borrowed backgrounds

sitting in the circle
of regret
and rotting earth

thoughts of her
tormenting
pages shorn
to show an ending
spurned

still
her laughter echoes
through the frigid nights
of empty air

poisoned
by the voiceless peril
slithering through
meadows maddened

striking with a force
unfounded
never was her kiss
denied

but shallow whispers
lay awake
to court the
shadow’s song of ruin

through the forest
whence we stumbled forth
to greet the sleepless hour

Relevant Rant

will we ever see beyond the trees
into the forest of illusions
set before us by ourselves
or are we simply at a loss
to bear this burden?

certainly, such implication
complicates the inferences
alluding to this state of indignation
which perpetuates the presence
of my acute consternation

do the constellations hold the key
unlocking unknown doors
to worlds beyond the chaos of existence?

is this counsel, self-contained
a crux which cancels itself out
a crutch our conscience uses
to ensconce us?

every question seems to touch
the realm of truth secluded
which eludes even those perspicacious
erring on most prudent

dedicated students of the mind
have yet to find an explanation
which defines our cosmic purpose

exponentially, our ponderance compounds
without exception
thereby instilling an exigence
unduly excess

we have set the boundaries
far beyond our wildest expectations
to the point of courting disappointment

with our inclination to usurp
our self-appointed power surreptitiously
supposing precedents unseen
which seem to propagate our dreams
so many silently believe

bereaving us of freedoms
rife with possibility
which would inspire community
instead of spurning hope for peace

sapience and salience
presumed part of our “sentience”
are scarcely exercised
or altogether compromised
despite the catastrophic impact
of our calculated actions
we continue on this fervid course
of forced dissociation

refusing to disseminate
the knowledge which facilitates
a self-sufficiency
that would, in turn, sustain society
without burning the bridges
to the people in positions
of imposed disparity based on factors
beyond their person

the irony is so profane
exceeding that which is insane
in fact, it’s that which only fools
would dare to claim not criminal

the truth of this reality
that humankind just cannot see
is every human stands to gain
when selfish hands release the reins
that led us all into substain

instead, with what we’ve stood to learn
so easily could we discern
that only through consideration
of each other, and each station
intrinsic within our being
can we truly attain freedom

kindness is not just a word
nor is it a notion absurd

it IS what all of us deserve

without it
there is only hurt

For All I Know

sitting
watching
waiting

get me
the fuck
out of here

how many hours
must i spend

until this hell
is over

and even then
it might not
truly end

for all i know

Drifting Into Ruin

our distance
belies summation

amid the sacred frivol
we chose
to quantify
ourselves

defiant
like the sentience
of existence

inundated
with the drivel
waning tides forgot
to tell

timeless dimensions
lay between
the worlds
within these walls

teemed with apprehension
we haplessly watch
verity unfurl

drifting
into ruin

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

Petaled Trails

once
i walked
a lone procession

in the blossoming
wake of a cherry
bloom daydream

lost
in thought
as threnodies
cried peals
of Zeus’wrath

helpless
in a gaze
transfixed

counting down
each drowning
footstep

tread upon
tremulant flesh
yet shone anew

as our minds
fell behind
racing hearts

failing
to bridge
the frigid waters

on that day
when i long held
truth

as the subtle sky
absconded
with your song

Promised Hours

why is it
that only upon leaving
do you voice
lament

fleeting amid
sentiments
and sudden
things to do

promised hours
perish
in a flash
of wistful
alley light

scarce
your words
remain
as token trials of hope
since lost

hanging in denial
are faded smiles
and fusty
mothballed coats

in the closet
strung like latent
trysts
listless
and long forgotten

Not Even Death

when everything
is gone
nothing matters

the only place
you still exist
is barely even tangible

but you don’t care
no one cares

not even death

and so it persists