Daydreams

some days
we long to be killed
more than others

to save us
from spilling
our secretive druthers

in rum-soaked confessions
to loathsome ex-lovers

or nameless encounters
with strangers uncovered

shamelessly asking for help
from our mothers

whose salt stings the wounds
from the womb to the gutter

whose ruinous choices
left pagans to shudder

impetuous voicings
so flagrantly uttered

lugubrious lamentations
seethe and smother

you see
i have neither the will
nor the the wanting

to languish in suffering
ever so daunting

i rather prefer
to bestir to the coffin

and slough this infernal coil
right the fuck off then!

[image credit: Edward Honaker]

Era of Remorse

wishes are the whims of wastrels
waiting for the world to turn
upon the drop of faceless dimes
amid a burning empire spurned

timid tales shall move no mountains
mend thy heart by will of mind
ardent kindness fells the wicked
ailing veils of thin disguise

seize the reins of thine oppressor
tyranny reigns not by virtue
if we are to acquiesce to tenets of naught
so becomes truth

heed the words of honored adage
in this era of remorse
lest their greed abscond thy haven
wresting faith through fearful discourse

social media rant revisited

depression sets in

cyclical perpetuity prying
clawing at the prefrontal cortex

altruistic assertions abundantly articulated
aimlessly amid atmospheres of apathetic arrogance

the pittance of positive people
professing palpable parable
is repeatedly passed over
spurned, and disparaged
for the perverted purpose of pandering
to the plight of pathetically puerile opponents
to placate their pathological penchant
for proliferated pandemonium

the spirit of selflessness
and subsequent sanctuary is subjugated
by solipsistic sentiments
that seem to spread
like pestilence plaguing the soporific populace

seeking to appease
the silent sect of surrogate shamers
tiptoeing through the treacherous tumult
presaging tales of omnipresent fear
with foreboding and pale trepidation

all too typically trivialized
by tiresome talk of intolerant tripe
tailored to tantalize stolid thinkers

in triumphant tantrums of truant intellect
inflecting in facetious affectation
fostering false intent so toilsome

tempting my intrinsic inclination
to defect and deactivate
with the hope of abating this state of inundated hatred
bred into my head by the hordes

of men faceless whose faith
one can only surmise to be heedless

so, needless to say my dismay
is with relevant reason
enough to release this lost soul
into sempiternal egress