When life departs
Where does one even begin to start;
the healing.
Those left behind masked and basked in burning feeling.
A hanged man
A hanged man
How does one justify a hanged man.
A man who seemingly had everything, but became a brand.
A bathrobe belt around his neck tied to a doorknob in a french hotel, ****
A hanged man
A hanged man
A man who had everything,
Yet a heart full of pain, searing.
We may only see the outside.
The inside is hidden from us, tearing.
The cries for help ignored, no hearing.
The inevitable demise pushed out of our minds, fearing.
A hanged man
A hanged man
A hanged brand
How do we accept a hanged man,
a man who had everything.
Jun 12, 2018
Jun 12, 2018 at 5:23 PM UTC
I break more guitar strings than hearts,
I am bad at music
I am bad at love.
I hit the chords too hard.
I burst more drum heads than hearts,
I am bad at rythm
I am bad at love.
I strike the snare too hard.
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 9:37 PM UTC
Living is as important as dying.
Do not let words leave you, for once
They do they transform to smoke.
Living is just as important as dying.
Do not let the words build up inside you,
For, once they do, they turn to a ball of
unpolished stone.
Living is as important as dying.
Do not leave this earth without, before
Crying out the words which, if not, will
Turn to sour stone. Because,
Living is as important as dying.
Then Narcissus spoke:
We are the moon
We are the sun
We are the stars
Twinkling above.
May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 5:52 PM UTC
Welcome.
To the Age of major gains,
But no progress.
Abundant selfies,
But harshly any selflessness.
Delectable boomerangs of delicious dinners,
While many suffer starving in foreign winters.
Will
Likes
Hearts
Views
And
Shares
Become the end-all-be-all of the winners?
Chicken Dinner
Chicken Dinner
Chicken
Dinner
C
H
I R
C E
K N
E N
N I
D
Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 5:57 PM UTC
I desire to play the piano
fingertips like cigarettes
I desire to pick at the guitar
fingertips like cigarettes
I want to whistle mellifluous melodies to my comrades
lips like cigarettes
I wish to massage your head
broken fingernails filed cigarettes
I search for my voice to shout but my lungs
are (((filled)))
I want to write a SuRreal poem
But, my
fingertips are as cigarettes
Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 5:44 PM UTC
Things you need are that hard
To find.
There, over there, outside your window, not the breeze. It is a disease, who waits outside that window. Inside growing groaning please please come and play innocently come please play. Forget about everyone and anyone you love.
Lubricious ànd concupiscient
There are things that are not that easy
To find.
Say; Love, Friendship, Absence of pain, A feeling of hope-unfueled by any dope. A monster which waits outside your window while you groan and moan for these things, inside blow your window.
Not that easy to find.
Lubricious ànd concupiscient
There are things that are easy
To find.
A blade of grass, a crumbling building, war, hate, and mallace. Yet look harder and may also, easily,
Find beauty.
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 2:17 PM UTC
Life becomes much simpler
When one gives up hopes,
Dreams, Ambitions.
"Why write?" You may then ask.
Because, it is the only thing to Reveal the face of Truth, in a
World full of masks.
Imitation fireplace, the
Great gates of
Nowhere creak open...
For me, the doors of perception, lead me nowhere You pompous *****
I know what I know.
I know what my friends know.
Because there's no secrets.
Because there are no secrets.
Is what is energy now, in me,
Later burn in some other new
Blood?
Will what is buried now,
Sprout after the thaw?
Euphoria Again
Two Rights
A miracle of lights,
I have no reason to not indulge
In delight,
Cept depression eats away, bit/bit
By bit.
To others, seemingly trite.
To me, a life or death fight.
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 10:45 PM UTC
Barbary
Go out to the bar
Pop Punk and Emo night
dress in all black
band tea, skinny jeans, converse high tops.
Something Ironic
Want to see friends
haven't seen in ages
jump around
sing Saves the Day
"At my funeral I will sing the requiem."
Watch people drink
they seem to be having fun
feeling ****** can't drink
was just at an AA meeting earlier
**** this, do hard drugs, drop out, hurt the ones you love.
Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 2:50 PM UTC
This paint brush has become
an extension of my hand.
It has sunk it's color pumping living
veins into me.
Now, my hand aches
dripping crimson, everytime I put it down.
This pen has become an extension of my hand.
A sixth finger extends dripping ebony
ever scratching ivory surface,
vexing to keep the hourglass full,
of sand.
I am no longer
My body.
I am my tools of creation.
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 7:47 PM UTC
Go ahead and congratulate yourself
give yourself a hand your hand is your hand
and the eye that sees itself is your eye
and the ear the hears itself is your ear
You are
~Alive~
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 12:17 PM UTC