I want to pray.
Feel a beam of light expunge me from these anxieties
I want to pray to know that you are happy
or at the least at peace.
In some glinting meadow free of your sorrows, drenched in weightless freedom and endless smiles.
I want to pray, but I know I'll never be sure.
So for now, I'll make this world a place you'd like to live.
where compassion radiates ferociously and your inedible love fuels it endlessly.
Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 9:06 PM UTC
Today I had a needle pierced through my flesh to adorn my vessel with color.
Today your flesh may be grey, peppered with the proof of decay.
I am here and you are not.
You shared your luster and love with abundance, but something you gave so freely you couldn't possess yourself.
But while your body does rot the love you shed does not.
It shall bloom in the innocence of youth and pulse of nature.
I feel you.
I love you.
I miss you.
Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 8:28 PM UTC
We were Impervious:
Two perfectly poised bodies buoying each other through the **** of life
Then the mass Conflagration:
A fire consumed and incinerated what I thought we could be.
I should have realized worship isn't a vessel of transcendence , but a ship fettered in servitude eagerly waiting to drown me.
Jun 13, 2017
Jun 13, 2017 at 11:40 PM UTC
You ignite my picnic of a body, bedecked with an assortment of foods too pickled and procured with oddities to ever be pillaged.
You plunge your fingers into my vinegar ****** potato salad and athwart my melonous cantaloupe thighs.
I indulge in your embrace as you engulf in mine.
Two terribly beatitude lovers emboldening the picnics within eachother.
The simonized delight as your hands are the midwives to my parted thighs and my glazed love drenched eyes.
May 30, 2017
May 30, 2017 at 3:19 PM UTC
A leisurely stroll, two feet plodding through dandelions in hypnagogic droll.
A walk in the park is nothing of banal matter, but some sumptuous production engendering the staring feature of the gambit of life.
Old folk hobble, young ones cuss and scramble, children giggle.
The park is a nudnik creation while awaiting the charades and demonstration of the chaotic equanimity of this human population.
Life is not a walk in the park, the park is a magnanimous showcase of lives we embark.
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 1:45 PM UTC
I want to know I'm loved with unwavering certainty.
Crisp clarity.
As if love was a bubbly boil pasted right in mid of my forehead.
Constantly reminding me of its existence, bumptious and irritating, but ever present and glorious.
I want a love I fear is nullified buried in the graveyard of childhood fantasies.
For in all reality No man will love you for you in unadulterated vivacity.
The real world is tainted by the mind of biology, terminating the dream of true love and all of the accompanying fluffy stuff.
There's no sense spending our days mourning the falsified dreams of our youth.
There's only one person on this earth that can make you happy and that'd be YOU
Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 3:15 AM UTC
When my body is broiled with the crispening macabre glean of anxiety; I imagine myself to be a buoying loaf of cornbread in a torrent sea of acid.
my custard colored crust being licked away by the ravenous maw of the current, this is no terrain for a loaf of cornbread in the first place.
Ludicrous.
Perhaps if I joined the sun swept crystal island of idealism, I could be drenched in honey and bound frivolously in nectarous orchard fields.
But then, even here, I suppose a Raven may spot me and adorned with a vulturous sneer gobble me up in my blissful state there.
So where shall my pappy crumbling loaf of an existence reside?
In the trenches of unbridled realization, lapping me up in a despair riddled prison?
Or the land of beatitude and glee unfettered from the brutalizing truths of reality...
Perhaps there's some bridging ground between these two polar opposites...
but how should I know?
I'm merely a cornbread I can't declare cognizance.
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 11:09 PM UTC
The sputtering world of eudemonic merriment often times feels very illusive. Just as you begin to feel nestled in equanimity with the essence of sunny joviality, blustering winds topple you off your blissful leisurely swing and back to the gravel strewn floor of reality.
Happiness is something I insatiably seek, yet happiness isn't a tangible thing, but rather a spell of beatitude enshrining my body in gold, aligning the world to the euphoric filter of my desires.
Happiness spurs a smile so fervid that despair can be muted if only for awhile.
Happiness manifests in various forms percolating through all stages of life like some iridescent amorphous syrup.
I must accept that happiness intersperses through all things as the duality of our world is etched with ebb and flow.
With that being so I can't deny the reverberating enchantment of this moment.
Your scintillating broad smile eradicating all laws of gravity leaving me buoyed in the milky sky of pooling happiness.
I am here, as are you, flesh robed orbs radiating in saturated pools of happy. two pulses united among the masses.
We are here now
now is good,
and this is happiness.
Feb 15, 2017
Feb 15, 2017 at 7:11 PM UTC
I have fashioned myself a cosseting nest of denial to protect me from my earnest yearnings.
I sit atop my stoop in cavalier crusted pessimism lobing over stones at the passing pedestrians enraptured with the bliss of romance.
"rigamarole dimwitted **** I huff as I examine the fluidity of their movement.
They bob along as two flocculent clouds set agog.
Such dulcified fools; they see their lovers lips brimming with nectar and skin dashed with gold.
"Such farcical magic musings, who needs such things?" ; I question rustling in my scathing bed of delusion.
One day I awoke to see a frenzied nest stationed next to me with a peculiarly pristine fellow bellowing.
The days following my eyes were deterred from ogling at the lovebirds beneath me as they grew curiously closer to the voltaic man vexing me.
He didn't pass his hours feeding from the disdain and self deprecating disarray, instead he perched giddily reading books and pacing incessantly.
This mans marrow doesn't reek of lovers idealism, but his eyes lift a veil to show me utter perfection.
Owning the vessel he inhabits he doesn't allow room for preposterous inhibitions.
As he unrobes to show me the mind wrinkles fueling his insanity, I began to wonder if his lips are coated in the same sugar doused divinity.
As his hands gingerly caress mine, I decide to retire my stones, It seems about time I let myself learn to float.
Feb 13, 2017
Feb 13, 2017 at 11:58 PM UTC
If I hear another commercial glaring on in toadying fashion about title loans or exorbitant jewelry, I do believe by belly button will suction myself into a mangled flesh raisin.
We are just marionettes in this abhorrent charade of a game, indentured servant to the very thing we lionize and worship.
It's laced with the portent of hope but made with the intention of despair.
It's the reason we are reeled out of bed in obsequious duty and fall asleep in existential worry.
The thing in which can establish an empire yet eagerly turns around to act as the executioner.
Overweening on the stiver of promise you plot the grave where you will soon rest.
They tell you that happiness is a biological setting, yet how can this be when the seas of currency are what determine if I am able to eat.
You mold a throne for some by using the sinew and soul of the others.
You are the reason our economy functions, and the reason for humanities destruction.
Nonchalantly buried in my jeans, the crumpled green paper of misery.
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 1:43 AM UTC