we’re all looking for pleasure
can you tell us where it is?
just need a bit of leisure
to distract my mind for a bit
give me something to measure
enchant my eyes for a while
i’m not looking for treasure
just a breather, just a sign
you know we’re not opponents
can you tell me why I’m yours?
let me drink in these moments
things i know i’ll never have
i never could do romance
i’d have too far down to fall
can’t we fall into a trance
maybe live a little more?
i just want you to smile
can you do that for me now?
i can’t hold onto my words
things that fate would not allow
you know that i can’t draw near
i wish i could tell you how
my mind grows restless waiting
for the day you let me out
Mar 18, 2020
Mar 18, 2020 at 1:40 AM UTC
Speak to the muses blamed for your bruises—
They might say something yet.
Forget that the news is staring right through this—
Their blades with blood are wet.
You know you and I, we peer through the sky—
Feeling for fates unset.
Even though they lie about where or why—
I knew I’d ne’er forget.
Dec 5, 2019
Dec 5, 2019 at 6:05 PM UTC
i'm a fool
with a camera
and i must stop
and shoot
the rusted lattice i
walked under
my friends
wait
patiently for me to finish
i aim and fire
my photographic rifle
and capture a luminous sun
Nov 14, 2019
Nov 14, 2019 at 7:27 PM UTC
That all hath fall'n away impure;
That all we thought is now unsure—
This is the final cause of it,
That which we know has gone to ****
Yet here we stay, throughout the days,
Staring into a foggy maze.
Sep 22, 2019
Sep 22, 2019 at 11:21 PM UTC
you know our observatory minds
hide behind accusatory eyes
reading from statutory lines
stealing glances, stealing lies
borrowed for another time
projecting further our own demise
you know we live on borrowed time
little can ease our troubled minds
it’s hard to know where a feeling lies
in the attic or in vacant lines
i can’t look you in the eyes
it brings me pain: my own demise
but it seems you know the truth
that we’ve wandered in our youth
that these days we’ll come to rue
Sep 8, 2019
Sep 8, 2019 at 10:50 PM UTC
im not your antonym—
a double negative
im not a flat rhythm
lacking an objective
and im not unstable
or merely unable
to connect the dots
its just that im
terrified of
misspelling
what it is we
are we just two
passersby who
shared a glance or
two and never
looked back at what
could become of
“us” is a pronoun
and we are sentenced
to silent eternity
Jun 23, 2019
Jun 23, 2019 at 2:33 AM UTC
I’m only a poet;
There’s nothing I know but
How to say what’s been said
Without a thought in my head.
I’m only a poet;
I know how to show what
We’ve seen, paint lies instead
Of novel truths unread.
I’m only a poet:
Hear the cry from my hut
Of this man who has bled
Tears borrowed from the dead.
Jun 13, 2019
Jun 13, 2019 at 12:16 AM UTC
i wish i could take flight as the plover
rather than flail and fight ‘till it’s over
wading through endless swamps of mire
waiting until i discard my ire
fading faster than last summer’s clover
i wish i could sing as the songbird sings
maybe tell the tale of beautiful things
cut through the skylight chains
strut about the windowpanes
but i haven’t any wings
May 25, 2019
May 25, 2019 at 2:46 PM UTC
a city plain enough
for all the world to see
though round the edges rough
it always seems to be
as half the city sleeps
long past alluring Dusk
lonely screams creep
from eventual husks
sirens blare
while i grow pale
and cast a prayer
to no avail
a city plain enough
asleep at thirty to three
missing finer stuff
to keep me company
laying there, wide awake
the night not quiet yet
i shut my eyes for my own sake
and wait for silence to set
i hear ambulances convene
on the parking lot below
whisk away a pallid teen
without her soul in tow
my mind is forever *****
as a war-torn sieve—
i could never forget two-thirty
not for as long as i live
May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 6:09 PM UTC
striving, searching
meaning everywhere to behold
in a world hardly days old
diving, lurching
in a drowning sea of possibility
each drip a different plea
defending, upending
small bottles of water
preparing for the great slaughter
sending, contending
“mine is best!” i cry
and why?
May 17, 2019
May 17, 2019 at 2:51 AM UTC