What else but wait?
Feel the beating essence
of a world moving on
without you.
How far can one go
to achieve anything?
How fast would one go
to catch up?
Faster,
the pace quickens.
As a species
with collective amnesia,
we forget together.
Mar 16, 2021
Mar 16, 2021 at 3:43 AM UTC
What if people were kind.
To be nice, you only need to pay attention
but don't overstep.
because you can leave a wake behind yourself.
Stir up trouble you didn't intend.
whether it's soon, or not,
you can't expect others to do it all.
Show your might to the world
and it will forget
just how bad things have been.
Leave it to chance
and that wake will diminish.
where you're at is never where you'll be
once you have given it your all.
Sep 16, 2020
Sep 16, 2020 at 12:24 PM UTC
Declare a war
you don't understand.
Speak to the poor
with a meal in hand.
Pray for the sick
then pay for your care.
The things we pick
are the things we wear.
the only crime we commit
is ignorance.
Aug 6, 2020
Aug 6, 2020 at 2:20 AM UTC
Three men sit in a circle
The first is a scribe
he speaks of great science
of alchemy and astronomy,
how he computes large sums and numerals,
and can create new substance.
The man to his left says:
"Yes, all and good,
but when faced with a lion,
your pen and ink will not save you."
The second is a warrior
he tells tales of boast:
of his swords and his spears
his strength and his size.
How he bested 60 men
all at once on a bridge in battle.
the man to his left says:
"All that may be true,
but hurts your spirit too.
It grows weary and sad."
The third is a monk.
He talks of enlightenment
of good and evil.
of balance and peace
and things such as man
of love and grace.
The man to his left says:
"For a good spirit, all that may be,
but when wolves come to your door,
loving them wont do you much good."
Dec 14, 2019
Dec 14, 2019 at 5:46 AM UTC
Paint the highest peaks
Or sketch the lowest man.
Break a thumb
And get out of restraints.
Sculpt us David
Or splatter a canvas.
Flay another man
And see crimson fall.
Scribe together volumes
Or scribble three lines.
Tear your own flesh
And slip away softly.
Write of her beauty
Or even her majesty.
Beg her to stay
and she takes everything.
It's all art to someone
But let it be known
True art
No matter the medium
always comes from pain.
Dec 14, 2019
Dec 14, 2019 at 2:49 AM UTC
I cite the whiskey in my glass;
It be the only witness I'll allow.
I shield my actions from God and devil alike;
May it be a double, or a line of white.
For this sinner does not want pitty;
Nor would I beg for redemption.
I drown any notion of salvation;
With burning spirits at my lips.
This sinner worships only his shortcomings;
For this sinner knows the truth.
Apr 22, 2019
Apr 22, 2019 at 8:15 AM UTC
Beneath branches and leaves
we step through foliage
and the sun's great beams
hand in hand together we strode
while sweat accumulates
between our palms
I dare not let go.
Away so far on rolling waves
between ice and snow
but here the sun retreats
so I grasp your memoirs and letters
and pray to feel your warmth
with dreams of you
I dare not let go.
And while you're gasping in pain
fighting and screaming
while bringing life and love
into our vast world
you squeeze my fingers blue
yet it's nothing compared to your pain
I dare not let go.
And now you lie next to me
your skin shows glory in this light
as our child coos against your rising chest
fingers curling weak around mine
a face like yours
and eyes such as mine
I swear, not ever, will I let go.
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 10:43 AM UTC
Our species is divided
like tribes of warring apes
you simple ungulates
act with herd mentality.
You do what the group does
you act as you are told to be
following your cluster of Ovis
off the proverbial cliff.
Take away borders
and erase your subjective labels
what you have left
are scared bleating sheep.
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 7:39 AM UTC
A boy dreamt of words
Reaching far and wide
A boy dreamt of hearts
To touch and inspire
A boy gave everything
To a world which gave him not
A boy heard notes of songs
From artists crying out
A boy wrote his dreams
Then broke at their absence
A boy now serves his unions
Onboard dry hulls and hearts
A man is now settled
Though now he does not dream
Mar 13, 2019
Mar 13, 2019 at 1:08 AM UTC
Like faucets
Words stream
In falsettos
Voices scream
Mar 13, 2019
Mar 13, 2019 at 12:50 AM UTC