haze-maze - Hello Poetry

In the face of infinity, I stumbled to an instigator. I must have known how furtive the ****** dotard was. An epidemic stereotype would barely drawl an insurgent. The tremendous vilification acurred. Here comes the futile virtuoso with his interminable intransigence. The vivacity dynamic banality of an unconscious programmed robot.

0

Sep 16, 2016

Sep 16, 2016 at 7:35 PM UTC

into debauchery

In the face of infinity, I stumbled to an instigator. I must have known how furtive the ****** dotard was. An epidemic stereotype would barely drawl an insurgent. The tremendous vilification acurred. Here comes the futile virtuoso with his interminable intransigence. The vivacity dynamic banality of an unconscious programmed robot.

6

Take me out on a non realistic trip detach me from my inner self when they threw me out on the island I didn't miss my land I didn't miss my people I gazed on the freezing moon I watched the boat coming and going but I did not beg them to take me back to the city where the look in everyone's eyes is just speaking of hatred when you look into their eyes and all you feel is hate from a person maybe they aren't real maybe I am not just what I think I am if this isn't real then I'm just an idea in someone else's brain you don't get the feeling when you're trapped you burn like fire in the deserts of Egypt you crawl on your feet crumble and fall like a stone but you're nothing like a rolling stone let the sun touch you until you sweat let the forest's parasites live inside your hair a meteor was crossing the sky I looked into your eyes and I saw the sparkles in your eyes how it dilates slowly with the breeze.

0

May 18, 2016

May 18, 2016 at 5:56 PM UTC

escapee

Take me out on a non realistic trip detach me from my inner self when they threw me out on the island I didn't miss my land I didn't miss my people I gazed on the freezing moon I watched the boat coming and going but I did not beg them to take me back to the city where the look in everyone's eyes is just speaking of hatred when you look into their eyes and all you feel is hate from a person maybe they aren't real maybe I am not just what I think I am if this isn't real then I'm just an idea in someone else's brain you don't get the feeling when you're trapped you burn like fire in the deserts of Egypt you crawl on your feet crumble and fall like a stone but you're nothing like a rolling stone let the sun touch you until you sweat let the forest's parasites live inside your hair a meteor was crossing the sky I looked into your eyes and I saw the sparkles in your eyes how it dilates slowly with the breeze.

28

Not like this. the path you stumbled for, left you for some footsteps of a goddess that we never were sure of her existence. He left you on the road oh, beautiful landscape of all such green trees, such brown leaves. Do you wonder how I wonder? wanderlust, collecting dust of the wasted decades we had of an item we never truly got to reckon it's form I do not believe in time it does not exist break all hour glasses done.

0

Apr 17, 2016

Apr 17, 2016 at 10:59 PM UTC

tempus fugit

Not like this. the path you stumbled for, left you for some footsteps of a goddess that we never were sure of her existence. He left you on the road oh, beautiful landscape of all such green trees, such brown leaves. Do you wonder how I wonder? wanderlust, collecting dust of the wasted decades we had of an item we never truly got to reckon it's form I do not believe in time it does not exist break all hour glasses done.

14

It is life that is shooting at me from the underground, the souls begging for forgiveness all comas exposed until they haunt you burn you out alive in a ring of fire in a countless sky such breathless world we know, we don't know about.

0

Apr 6, 2016

Apr 6, 2016 at 6:23 AM UTC

conceptual territory

It is life that is shooting at me from the underground, the souls begging for forgiveness all comas exposed until they haunt you burn you out alive in a ring of fire in a countless sky such breathless world we know, we don't know about.

9

Hopeless desires in a daydream nation of drunk stars and messed up scars on each neck and for wrist aching by, each and every minute within a corner, not walking not talking, with starry eyes.

0

Apr 6, 2016

Apr 6, 2016 at 6:20 AM UTC

Untitled

Hopeless desires in a daydream nation of drunk stars and messed up scars on each neck and for wrist aching by, each and every minute within a corner, not walking not talking, with starry eyes.

8