a red pill, shiny fillets
tastes sour, chastens
takes my wakeness
takes my bothers
a blue pill, a skinny pellets
tastes bitter, soothens
fakes a patience
pats a shoulder
Apr 27
Apr 27, 2026 at 7:42 PM UTC
I am a sea,
I tide high, I tied low
I am a sea
heavy streams torrent violently
yet I am never full
I am a sea
All rivers stream to where I am
rocks, flowers, silt
we meet, we confluence
I am a sea
Apr 27
Apr 27, 2026 at 7:35 PM UTC
There is a place--
There is a place,
Where that high flag
Doesn't rise
There is a place!
Sep 13, 2025
Sep 13, 2025 at 1:03 PM UTC
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Syntax error line thirty-two,
No champagne kisses,
Just runtime fixes,
Save our date—
Another update
Aug 17, 2025
Aug 17, 2025 at 2:10 AM UTC
I have my weakness learned—
Ugly, but no I can't
for a second hate its burning light.
I should be called reckless,
something close to wreckless,
you bet I prefer this maleness.
I leave the toilet seat up,
eat loudly and drop a ***** cup,
take a bath then go for my long lap.
It's the cost of my hero—
bravery wears this kind of raw.
Kings do what they **** well like,
sometimes breaking rhythm, ignoring strike.
Aug 7, 2025
Aug 7, 2025 at 3:37 PM UTC
Lord
In the name of your son
I pray more than I can bear
I pray not wealth, nor health
But my prayer, so humble so solemn
My heart cries for this
And at the gates of mine own heart
my prayer pulverizes my needs
It is a blessing, a tremendous privilege
If only I would sleep hungry
and my name dragged--
along the streets of the monsters
and if termites nibbled by flesh like beasts
and the remains lit up for the streets of Rome
My heart beckons.
I cry so deeply in my heart
I bleed from the inside-out
and every meat and bone trembles
I need would trade Silver and Gold
I would trade the finest of robes, purple and pristine
and seek this want
burning want
For the world is a pagan temple
and the remnants of joy are defiled
and the beauty of mankind is robbed
Until it is a mass of rotten flesh
and the glory of men is a corpse
Lord,
I want more than currency can offer
I know not of what I want, none does
I want glory shore-to-shore
I want honor shore-to-shore
I want refuge shore-to-shore
I want to fight dragons
I want to walk on giants
I want to slaughter princes of darkness
I want to pound none's chest as I watch them cry
but to look and you, the battler
the victor
Lord,
I open my eyes before the mirror
and I see what you are
beauty
Then I close them
and see more beauty
I see them sinking in their horizons
Heights never scaled
Depths never sounded
Broader than broad
Deeper than Deep
Limits where words fail--
and understanding fractures
Lord,
I want righteousness
I want to stand by Him in the morning
and sleep in his arms in the night
I want to talk like He does
to walk like He walks
to have deeds so rich with Him
I want, I want, I want
a tinker clothed in purity
a beggar having assurance
clothed in the morning
His son! His Son!
getting my warm from scriptura
Until I see Him in His Glory
Aug 5, 2025
Aug 5, 2025 at 11:06 AM UTC
You failure of a poet!
Tarrying in limp indicatives,
Divorcing imperatives like a faithless groom.
You chisel verses like:
“From yonder, drank the stars.”
You wed rhyme behind every feeble poem,
Instead of stitching soul to your hollowed hymns.
Aug 5, 2025
Aug 5, 2025 at 5:58 AM UTC
A spider hangs above my ceiling
Ink-black, eight eyes on their torso
I crave a rest on its web
a newspaper, coffee steaming against my palm
But it seems inhospitable
It fancies bugs and flies, not 22-year-olds
and I bet it aches to lecture, with all might
"Get off your bed, you failure of a poet!"
But it can't, spiders lack vocabulary
Or maybe they do
Aug 4, 2025
Aug 4, 2025 at 3:44 PM UTC
Boys don't cry.
I'm a rusty crook, darling—
smith: I hammer words.
until the rhyme bleeds—
and crickets dreaming
through the witch hours—
I type
Aug 4, 2025
Aug 4, 2025 at 12:58 PM UTC
I eat stones for breakfast,
chew them on the road.
But one thing—
I don’t release Barabbas.
Aug 4, 2025
Aug 4, 2025 at 5:49 AM UTC