A slip of tongue.......on deaf ears
Moments passing.......as would years
A lighthouse..........standing unmanned
Skyscrapers...........of straw and sand
A battle of words......with idiots
Fields of blood.........by patriots
A fight on graft........per foolish twits
Unarmed men.......sans all wits
A demon's wants.....destroying dreams
Politic bodies.........advancing schemes
A war on drugs........by cartels
On a slow train........bound for hell
Welcomed here by two with three eyes
Interbeings, warm embrace,
Vibrating a foreign frequency,
Open wide, let it in. Up, down,
Losing myself within you
Between the sounds and shadows
We need this steady hold outside the lines
Opened, warm, and
I’m sure we’re ascending now
Twirling out and back again
Take it in, we’re almost there
Half as high as this Holy Crow
It's gaining momentum
Through your roots
I opened my eyes and there we were.
Felonious bologna spread
sweet meaning lips to air
through air to ear.
Good kids grew up framed
Bad kids grew up changed
Zip burnt bone butts
Sweep the back patio
Procure snap lights
Glow sticks in darkness
One hand on the other's trail
Write names with innate
Shapes in muscle memory
A pair of phantoms hands
clasped and held to center
Symmetrical as Hell.
They pull apart and in their wake drift embers sparks and calcite.
Colors where these hands just were make-out and roll around; they leave their imprints and their stains when they are done.
Out of the unwashed we arrived
A symptom of passionate cries.
None comes from creation besides the thing that we made, just pray that it is ugly in all the right places—we pray, but not I, me, I make eyes at the mirror and punish myself until Hell's tides become shallow ends against mine—then frivolous, yank myself from sinking lifeboat to cloud-nine,
Let helping hand erase my demons, baby, I must be omniscient because I just personally faced damnation and swift rapture all within one bathroom trip.
I am my own savior
You are the deity I suffer for.
For whom I could create under conditions of such self destruction and from you only disassurances to fuel my flame; watch it ignite
then go out,
Me in a panic,
Rolling newspaper together, heaving in the embers—making winds to toss that heat around, frantic cause I feel the maelstrom tossing inside me and it is quiet, nervous, commonly occurring. You can avoid all of that if you just GO.
No destruction required.
No promises of plans gone unmet if you never promised.
I only exist if you see me
Now shut your eyes: this is the remedy for lame creations.
I will still see you, Deity
You will still make fun of me if I am visible; I will sell fragments of my truth to the same machine that I loathe, and it will churn that truth to muck, my spirit to a discard pile, while my heart and the entirety of my body will belong to you.
Watch dust gather on my lashes as my eyes wait for a clever opening.
Aren't my thoughts eerily possessive?
I think I want to be one of your things so I can watch all of your successes from the shelf, and cover my eyes when you have visitors
Pretend I am a man to you
Not just something that your curiosity alone birthed. What is this blind responsibility I throw at you?
Myself I do not fully recognize, but I won't censor what seems logical to me, though visibly unhealthy.
I'm just trying to explain because avoiding didn't work: you are all that I think about. So much for NEW, maybe improved is still within me.
I'm sorry for all of that. Believe it or not I have been trying to be less dramatic lately. Honestly it has been a very long time since feeling comfortable in here. You raided my thoughts long before I ever considered finishing the fucking thought
And then you left, so everything I ever/never said (or read or showed or wrote) to you was wrong and I had to change myself accordingly.
According to every flaw that I could find in myself. Income trouble.
Kids my age aren't supposed to go inward, they are programmed to fuck, fuck up, and forget. Success is just around the corner!
Don't worry, I'll go back to poetry format soon because this reality shit as it turns out is pretty depressing.
I think we need the
many moany broodings of a teenager who is white and straight—can't even write straight with this inky, bloody pen. That joke works better if you can physically see my notebook and the smudgy black Hell that it embodies. Seriously, it looks like some grabby octopus with parkinson's and seasonal mood swings tried to write the word "parkinsons" in here and then spent four to five hours sobbing about their meaningless existence and self-harming—just deep enough to make the ink drip out and fall into a pattern, maybe good enough to read aloud in public spaces which I would consider an honor in and of its
wobble and of the nerves that fire in like some unsteady chorus.
Still not good enough to sell. So bruised, so heady, Please Collin almighty I am ready
To be shot down in wave after wave of this stupidity. Oh how embarrassing it would be to face a firing squad if she could see; how could I ever imitate your immortality or even just your shine...
Here! More Pretty Words!
Pressure builds and compresses the body performs more or less—a little shaky.
The DANGER is in the mind right next to the safety.
Beneath the skull there is a small office-room plastered with disheveled documents, maybe important, the ones that I hired to clean up in there are actually four well fed cats, using the pages for their waste and spending their days pledging to untangle an endless, brain-sized ball of thread but—you know. at some point.
Like once they figure out that their cheap new carpeting is getting redder and redder the more that they tug on it. And—also they need to learn the color RED right after we have a professional explain to them what colors are.
Oh! Also. That they are FUCKING CATS!
Wait—don't leave. Please don't leave!
I'll be relatable. Wait.
I will only say handsome things. Wait.
I'll pretend that I am not thinking about you even when your breath is pumping somewhere within the same enclosed facility as mine is. Wait—
I will shorten my sentences significantly.
You won't even know it's me
Or that my lips could be so sure of anything
While my tongue so eager to betray.
People will say that they've fallen in love
But I'm a little different from the masses
I tripped over my own two feet
And stumbled my way into your life
And you caught me with your love
gaze into the eyes
of a voodoo girl
no one gets out alive
reveal the spiral
osculate the great serpent
by the vast and ancient lake
not to repent
deep blue, beneath the serene moon
they watch over and croon
lost in a trance
around a diminishing fire
a new temple rises, same mistake
lost in a romance
of the coop
a world seen in clear crystal
tangled in a loop
wake dreams, hopeless augury
hideous laughter, drowning in mockery
laden under a spell insane
we'll meet again
A PLANE CRASH AT ESSENDON AIRPORT
AMERICAN TOURIST LIVES LOST
HERE IN AUSTRALIA ON A GOLFING TRIP
NOW THEIR FAMILIES COUNT THE COST
MEN OF CHARACTER AND STRONG STATURE
WITH A VARIED LIFE TRAVELLED
LOOSING THERE LIVES WHILE ON THIS TRIP
NOW THERE FAMILIES LIVES ARE UNRAVELED
OUR HEARTS ARE VERY HEAVY
OUR THOUGHTS ARE DEFINITELY WITH YOU
LETS HOPE THE FAMILIES MEMORIES
COMFORT THEM AS THEY DO