liam-c-calhoun
"All I had to offer was my own confusion." / / -Jack Kerouac / / "Ditto." / / - Me / / Warrior, poet, wanderer. These words are a tale wrought decades. / / Tumblr - http://inn0v8-r.tumblr.com/ / / This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.
Flame-licked wantons chase
Skewered scorpions
And tofu-tossed blood
To the echoes of heroes howling
“Gambei!” (“cheers!”) and a
Smoke stained Huacheng Road.
Like a scribe before the oracle,
I tuck atop hydrant,
Squatting in an unfamiliar scene
And allow this ink to sink atop paper;
An artist, not so much, but a dreamer
With firecrackers for brains
And brains for the scene
And sense of it all –
I could get lost in this madness;
I could fall in love with this madness.
Nov 27, 2016
Nov 27, 2016 at 10:05 PM UTC
Swollen knee,
Come the night I fell;
Rail iron and blood wrought whiskey.
Swollen knee,
When the light met me ‘fore the tunnel;
Far from warm, but a frigid tucked.
Swollen knee,
As the paper bag whispered the other’s wails;
I’d imagine my mother crying come dawn.
And the once sullen autumn leaves,
Like my once swollen broken knee,
Rush ahead for my wishes of spring,
Bloodied, my palm, and in wait for something new.
Nov 27, 2016
Nov 27, 2016 at 9:39 PM UTC
Cold when covers for
Others and anger come a
Door closed; vitriol.
Nov 18, 2016
Nov 18, 2016 at 10:00 PM UTC
Cold when covers for
Others and anger come a
Door closed; vitriol.
Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 9:48 AM UTC
Strings sing blunder when
I'd wished you were there a cold,
Cold night years prior.
Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 9:24 AM UTC
"Will you marry me?”
whispered her sly slivers of purple,
prestige and occasional lie five years later.
And had we not been asunder
that very same altar we’d sought fallen stars on
several days prior, I’d have said, “no.”
Sure, she’d brought a bounty oranges,
but could he, if ever, answer with the hand
that’d waived like the incense before?
He said “yes.”
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 9:56 PM UTC
I felt the end of
Time inside her; fallen and
Knowing eternal.
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC
Worship is fingers
Awry offering baskets
And ventures 'morrow.
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 9:37 PM UTC
So as the temple with now triple gods
Cracked an only manacle, left,
Further awry became her wrongful right gaze
And even sooner, her sense of self unraveled,
If just before “undone.”
I could smell it, I could smile it and I’d share it,
As I’d been there before, so I pitch her this –
Come next time, hold my hand like a lily atop water,
Bring fruit, lots of fruit,
And never forget our wish,
Never let our wish built atop fortune’s aroma
Hinder what tomorrow could never be.
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 9:09 PM UTC
Agony becomes worn like a trophy,
When the first hero ventures forward
Breathing pandemonium, miasma,
Missed mothers and fathers,
Dreamt, dreams and dreaming;
Allowed, were the stars to explode.
And I’d have let the world die,
When we left, when she left,
When I left,
Walking to the left of the tall oak
Near 2nd street,
With not the mop of twilight hair
Buzzing about, in my path,
Off my path and vibrant.
But in her stead, boulevards break –
Soon she’d be in another’s arms,
Soon she’d be cradled,
Soon another’s song would sing her
To sleep, to dream,
And soon I’d be a-o-k with that.
Nov 11, 2016
Nov 11, 2016 at 10:29 PM UTC