He saw a beautiful world.
He saw the world’s grace.
Saw the world’s seemingly infinite majesties,
the magnificent magnanimity of it all.
He saw the smile of people, the perfect pigment of plants
He experienced a beautiful world.
Yet he was unsatisfied with what he saw.
Unsatisfied with the beautiful world he had.
He looked past the beauties, the elegance, and the gems
And focused on the ephemeral troubles that polluted his lens.
He couldn't handle the new deformities of the world he once saw
He couldn't handle himself at all.
Finger to the trigger and trigger to the gun
at once he knew he would regret.
Gun to the bullet and bullet to the brain.
at once he knew this was kismet.
He hid himself under the sullen pall
Entangled himself in the chaparral
For him there was no escape.
For he was doomed for fate.
If only he had opened his eyes
And realized.
He was satisfied.
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 2:51 AM UTC
He had a bag.
The books he packed in the sack on his back
Gave substantial sustenance to open his eyes to the sequins
To him this was indispensible.
More and more he stuffed into the sack on his back
Wiser was he but heavier his baggage became.
The clothes he packed in the sack on his back
Kept him secure and safe, like superman under his cape.
The more he brought the better he felt
The more he had the better he felt
Comfortable was he but heavier his baggage became.
The liquor he packed in the sack on his back
Helped with the pain of perseverance
And the acknowledgement of self-alteration
As slowly as he was transformed by the rucksack on his back
Began a man now a creature, a lost cause with no features.
Sorrow hidden and demons remained as heavier his baggage became.
But as he strained to stay standing with the bag on his back
His view of the stunning sequins distorted,
Disappearing in the storm was the beauty of it all
The struggle with the unnecessary weight was the squall
That ultimately ruined whatever beauty he believed in.
Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 8:24 PM UTC
a father dies
the child cries
her lies
have led to her demise.
However, the Fish still swims.
his money is gone
his wife has left
his thoughts are pawned
he is bereft.
However, the Fish still swims.
the trees sway
the sky turns gray
lightning strikes
the house ablaze.
However, the Fish still swims.
the days are black
death is here
sorrow covered in thick veneer
the world has lost its vim.
The fish no longer swim.
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 2:05 AM UTC