My life goes slowly
unfortunately
so does my death come
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 5:42 PM UTC
I knocked on wood.
It answered the door.
I ran.
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
Every "hello" contains
cancerous cells of "goodbye"
Some will never breed well
others will grow to a malignant farewell.
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 2:01 PM UTC
Had I lived in Victorian era
I would've been a lamplighter
I like poking holes
in the darkness
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 1:02 PM UTC
You can't **** anyone
with a blunt poem.
Sharpen it.
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 12:44 PM UTC
People gathered around
the huge gelatinous body (?)
A woman screamed:
"God has fallen! He's dead!"
Scientists poked and confirmed -
it was Him, the one and only.
The media quickly picked up the story,
but people couldn't hear the news
from the riots and breaking of glass,
the fighting raging outside...
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 12:40 PM UTC
...who believe in people
albeit
they are yet to see a human.
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 6:18 AM UTC
My step is heavy
and my heels crack like the road beneath them
your advice on elegance
falls into those cracks.
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 6:13 AM UTC
Tread lightly
in darkness,
every wrong step
echoes louder there.
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 5:59 AM UTC
I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone
enough
to truly consecrate the hour.
I am much too small in this world, yet not small
enough
to be to you just object and thing,
dark and smart.
I want my free will and want it accompanying
the path which leads to action;
and want during times that beg questions,
where something is up,
to be among those in the know,
or else be alone.
I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection,
never be blind or too old
to uphold your weighty wavering reflection.
I want to unfold.
Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent;
for there I would be dishonest, untrue.
I want my conscience to be
true before you;
want to describe myself like a picture I observed
for a long time, one close up,
like a new word I learned and embraced,
like the everyday jug,
like my mother's face,
like a ship that carried me along
through the deadliest storm.
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 5:50 AM UTC