Sanguine in the meadows,
he basks in memories
of good company,
resolved to reveal
a nature he knew not.
Riddled in a tale of trauma
that brings irony:
that something so simple
could unwind the tapestry
leading to his heart.
Oct 31, 2024
Oct 31, 2024 at 12:48 AM UTC
Elusive idealization—
I yearn for it,
beguiled by its seminal scope.
I dig my fingers into its flesh
as my past pulls me back in
with cold, frayed hands,
seeking to drown me
in a chamber of oblivion—
until the end of time.
Or so it seems;
as every mirage has its day,
and reality is no exception—
the construct of constructs
we all imagine at once.
Regardless of the outcome,
I will see you all again
under the ground.
Oct 31, 2024
Oct 31, 2024 at 12:45 AM UTC
The fields of gold—
Looking grave
as past faces
caught up quickly,
smothering any presence
with smoldering reminders.
Alas, the echelons of memories
stood tall, like soldiers
steadfast, unwavering
to the imminent fall.
They remind him of his reflection,
belabored by reality’s labor.
Lines buried in sand,
etched onto his head—
burning coals of souls
that throttle his legs into motion.
He runs, and runs,
coerced to send the sun
his kinetic aspirations,
to deflect and reflect,
to dissolve prophecies beleaguered.
For it is he
who devises the Devil
of his own doing.
Oct 31, 2024
Oct 31, 2024 at 12:40 AM UTC
Dead, I sit in the midst of dread
Dreary, amongst a precocious star
Oh, look at how it flies by
Light years from where I start
As stagnant desires dance in limbo
Enslaved to a vicarious libido
I’ve done this rain dance before
Deduced to a pointless chore
It’s true I may never know
How to crawl out of the row
A legacy of confusion
I’ve inherited from my fight
And if time is a mere illusion
Then there is no end in sight
Mar 12, 2019
Mar 12, 2019 at 8:24 PM UTC
A palette of every hue, tells a tale
Visions of terrestrial views, we shall fail
As a community, burdened by lust
For green, in paper, until dust
Vehicles in bloom, make the distance
No question to intentions, incentives
For a reality, structured in somethings
A mere reflection, for greater summits
In days such as this, in my mind
Shrouded in willow green, I find
Must I question, a beckoning call
Before the season’s quilt, shall fall
I am blinded, in peripheral vision
To carry on, toward no provision
For anyone, or anything in my way
Until the white light graces me
In my wake
Mar 12, 2019
Mar 12, 2019 at 10:35 AM UTC
Thy midnight blue sky
Of mine
She beckons me
With gleaming stars
And dreams afar
I reach for the tune
That suits me best
As choirs of angels
Watch Heaven at her crest
She gently brings me down
To Mother's slumber
Her caressing is nigh
As I relieve my sigh
To enriched thoughts
Beyond the medium
Of which we are wrought
Feb 13, 2019
Feb 13, 2019 at 5:49 AM UTC
I can feel you in me
Ravaging my mind
Or so you think
I've lived this a million times over
Yet I can't seem to find a better way
To acquire leisure and pleasure
All I can say is
When this is all said and done
I'll settle the score to my tune
For eons to come
Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 2:01 PM UTC
this sickle is eager
to find the sick
better finish that unlaid track
before it finishes you
front to back
dirt that lays beneath my feet
cold and callous underneath
as fertile as a boy without a home
tongue in tact
where's the wash i've wished
would shroud over houses
i've deserted in their wake
end dispatch
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 1:06 AM UTC
Harmonious visions pry and ****
False promises never deliver a nod
Should I keep walking ahead?
Cause time and space sure won't say
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 12:48 AM UTC
There was no struggle
Just rounds of true death
Inside a jungle
With mutual breath
Killers in armor
Had come to take us
To **** Mi Amor
And thus and thus
Our families were told
With the rest of the world
Another killer had siphoned
Ill and infamy
From an ideal
Lasting an entire day
That we will never
Get to see
Jan 27, 2019
Jan 27, 2019 at 11:29 AM UTC