The feet caress the silenced floors
The eyes delightfully shriek at the intoxicating images that carve the divergent atoms
The fingers dance across the tantalizing haze of consumerism.
We're in the supermarket.
How much can we take until it's considered ****
We are drowning in a pool of tortillas
Our senses are toiled away from the capability to mindlessly self-inflict
We are penetrated by blissful locomotives
Be practical, they say
That's a mans job!, they say
I am deaf.
I foolishly push the masculine carts
I taste the hysterical white privilege as it burns down my throat into an endless ride of heavenly ignorance.
Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 10:07 PM UTC
Insignificant chatter looms over my decaying ear.
The tantalizing haze floods the hidden floor boards,
the stained walls.
The prevarication is located in the detrimental couches.
The blissfulness of your ignorance feeds the self-inflicted smoke of their sensuous cigarettes.
We're all dead.
The instant gratification hovers over the greedy fingers as they dance across their contemplation of sanity.
The platonic conversationalists seek more than the lonesome intoxication.
And I, the flickering light caress the delicate chipped walls.
We're all dead.
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 11:00 PM UTC
The moon casts a luminous light
over my skin.
The smoke dissipates from my cigarette
into the darkened sky.
My palms feel moist
from the grass below.
The sound of creatures surrounding me,
dances between my ears.
But all I can think about,
is the silhouette of the trees
against the cold sky.
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 10:15 PM UTC
Something I once was
until,
I was painted with lust
until,
I was splattered with deception
Pure and innocent,
I once was
until,
I was carved with passion
until,
I was stained with melancholy
a blank canvas,
I once was
until I became destroyed
with benign severance.
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 11:48 AM UTC
If I a wayward traveler
were to rest my weary bones,
I fear I’d quickly find my name
in a garden full of stones.
So I continue trudging onward,
without regard for my direction.
Eyes forever pointed downward
by the fear of my detection.
Carrying the bags of follow travelers
despite their ever growing weight.
My steps harried ever onward
by the fear I might be late.
I can’t see my destination
but I have faith to keep me strong.
I can’t let my pace be slowed
by the fear that I am wrong.
I can’t say I quite recall
even the way this journey started
but I must have held some purpose
on that day I first departed.
So I continue trudging onward
without regard for my confusion.
This journey is about so much more
than my self-involved delusions.
If I a wayward traveler
were to rest my weary bones,
I fear I’d quickly find my name
in a garden full of stones.
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 2:15 PM UTC
Humanity's womb is barren
The music has died away
We ***** our children
Lead them astray.
Change marched through the streets
As they lay littered and free
For these corrupt eyes to see.
For these corrupt eyes to see.
How we bled for peace
And we killed for peace
But peace was power
And power was peace
How we bled for peace
And we killed for peace
Now our blood drowns us.
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 2:27 PM UTC
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow—
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream:
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand—
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep
While I weep—while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 12:25 PM UTC
Radiates over me like
the moon casting a
luminous gleam of light
over our bodies.
Devours my soul like
Hannibal, feasting on his
most lustful,
most passionate
****
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 10:06 PM UTC
As our car slides
ungracefully to the beat of
the music, we ponder
about the theory
of the universe only to discover
we are a troubled, modern group of
society's psychotic teenagers.
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 10:22 PM UTC
The feeling of a black hole
fills my body
like a poison, slowly
but gracefully
ripping apart my soul
brain washing my mind
into the depths of eternal sorrow
all because of you
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC