Bitter knife glitter
little knife bite
Brilliant shard litter
blood in black night
Brittle nerve flicker
Flit-- oh **** sicker
And sicker pale bright
Moon in sky-- Fright
Trick or treat slither
Slither from sight
A slight serpent sliver
whispering white.
Silent slight serpent
Fangs embittered bite
Little knife bite.
Brittle nerve flicker.
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 5:20 PM UTC
Spiral in the irises my dreams do
down into the pupil gaping wide
*what goes to hide
it stays inside*
In tepid wanter rot the mortal fools
No one knows why.
In livid water boil angry souls.
They explode.
From the pressure
*it stays inside
Down into the pupil gaping wide
like dreams do*
Jul 4, 2017
Jul 4, 2017 at 2:55 AM UTC
I say 'long ago'
They say
'You're twenty. What do you
know of time?'
Well. I know it's measured in moments
Not seconds
Heartbreak not heartbeats.
And I know, though it drags on and on
There is never enough.
That is what I know of time.
May 20, 2017
May 20, 2017 at 3:12 AM UTC
Arms arms breaking forward each pore a door
Escape the whole
Eyes eyes multiplying, constantly eyeing
The ground below
Me, I’m just standing --aside, the bridge to nowhere
As the stars like little lanterns hold their fire back with pains --panes?
And I, I’m just watching -- let the wind whisper do the talking
Or is the sway of shadow trees, a laughter is it mocking
The black crows with their bright beaks bursting from each layer of skin
With their dead eyes that I find such strange comfort in?
May 19, 2017
May 19, 2017 at 5:14 PM UTC
today passed like a dream
a lit match smothered by skin
a raindrop ****** into a stream
a heartbeat a blink a promise
you don't like reflection well
I hate to tell you darling but the
truth doesn't look good on you
the reason you have nothing to say
is because I am right
Each word that drips from my curving lips
Will only eclipse whatever lies your mind sips
because your heart skips and then your tongue trips
because I am right.
And you pass like a dream
a lit match smothered by skin
a raindrop ****** into a stream
a heartbeat a blink a promise
Because you did promise.
But I knew enough about people
to expect nothing
And you met my expectations.
So I really am...right.
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 2:49 AM UTC
Others have a before, before the aftermath
A past to look back on, a child in the mind
They mourn their lost purity
The fleck in their eye gone flat
The dulling of imagination and sharpening of
The ache everpresent
But I have no before. There is no moment
No mindset to look to, cry -- bring that back
Bring me back to innocence! No, for I lack
That yesterday...
yet my today is not dull
And I’m not yet full
Of grey dreams, grey hairs, grey blood
My blood yet runs red
And for each drop I’ve bled
And for each step I’ve tread
And for each word I’ve said
And for each hell I’ve wed
There is no before. No past to look back on.
No virginity to mourn.
So was I just like this
from the day I was born?
Have I forgotten the taste
Of innocence...
Or have I, for everything, not lost it,
not yet been dragged to life by the sharp kiss of Reality?
May 15, 2017
May 15, 2017 at 8:19 PM UTC
I'm sorry to waste your time.
It isn't a big deal.
It's just life you know
Maybe it's not even real
I'm sorry to waste your time
You have better things to do
I'm not even sure of
What I want from you
I'm really just burning time
Which is a little funny
Because people get paid for time
And I wouldn't burn money
But I just keep burning time
I don't know what remains
I don't know if it burns faster
For chaos, chasms, pains.
I don't know if I am master
For these time-fueled ember rains
Which actually...have eaten up
The space for me to say
Whatever I was thinking of
Before you walked away.
May 12, 2017
May 12, 2017 at 2:15 AM UTC
Kasimir Malevich. You really have no idea how
annoying you are; I look at your Black Square,
first see nothing there; an Emperor's new clothes
situation; people feigning education by rambling
meanings from blackness; Ignoring what it lacks -
it's the reverse of what art should be. That's why
it calls to me. Isn't it? It is rebellion, revolution,
An iconoclastic icon, there are novels within it's
empty. Are there? So I feel strongly. But as for a
Judgement...I have Nothing. It's a Black Square.
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 11:26 PM UTC
You equate me to a murderer
Because I smoke some cigarettes
I guess we'll all be down in hell
While you play harp in winged quartets.
Sure, I reach for stars just 'cause they burn
my soul's a maze so I can hide
I've scrambled "god" with **** and ****
Each day my head and heart collide
But art's knowing when to break the rules
And life is art, so do the math
You think I'm just a 'talking corpse'
'Cause I reject your 'purer' path?
I'm a mess but that's just fine
You live your way I'll live mine
But tell me how you can define
The One True Way to live?
When you look at minor heresies
and can't even forgive?
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 5:21 PM UTC
I'm glad you're not bewitched by me
I'm glad I'm not bewitched by you
That never will Earth's heavy orb
Float out from underneath our feet.
I'm glad that we can be funny...
messy, and not play with words,
And not redden-- a stifling wave
Upon us lightly touching sleeves
I'm glad too that before me you
Will freely embrace another
That you won't **** me to hellflames
Upset by me not kissing you
That my tender name, my tender darling
You won't recall in day nor night...in vain
That never in the church's silence
Will they sing over us 'alleluia'
I thank you with my heart and with my hand
For the fact that you -- yourself not knowing
Loved me so; for all of my peaceful nights
For rarity of meeting sunset hours
For our not-walking underneath the moon
For the sun not there with us, overhead
For you not being - alas, bewitched by me
For me not being - alas bewitched by you
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 2:16 PM UTC