Went through the forest and sat on a rock in the sun. There was no life there but a barking dog
I walked back through the mud
and uploaded a picture
What next
. .
I see an invisible door
I peak through
Weary and bored. Fresh air

everyday feels like a breakdown

blue

indigo

Black
In the pan

Covers and heated beds. Making up stories for morons
liars awake them

What goes in goes in
read your head
and comb your eyeballs and place your ***** in a candy box
and lament james dean
drinking orangecream.
  The lost souls of yore
stand on battalions of gods;
honing
in a circular
provisional
and blinking past none.  Their time would come, just not
now
just not now

Kodak blue
visions in a submarine den cottage with pink paper
The fan will whisk her away but so will the vines.
If it goes so do my ears now vibrating in salacious hum, doldrum metal aluminum scream

I found you like a child in the space under the stairs
What happened of your smile once so
pearly?

I can't write I can't write I can't write I can't write they took my brain they took my brain and my soul i am nothing we are nothing I pass the dirt road once again

I played the guitar on the steps last year
when I tried
to be a friend to you


I played the piano
in the afternoon when I tried to be a good guy

I played the string
in the evening when
I tried to be a joker

I played the kazoo
when I ran out of things to do

you knew it all along --

talent is something we laugh at
when we're staving out  on the vine  --- rolled over too many times

They persist and feast on my **** which is gelatinous and sickly
& paraded by the local
satanic convention

I'm awake at 7am
& Have managed to dream about crickets in prayer

I have no boss
But I still feel subjugated. Maybe some day
I'll be free
when my corneas are fitted for the massacre

I used to love
someone
named Cambria,
now she
sits behind glass unaware
of my existence;
I saw this coming

Lots of people are lonely, but you have the false assumption that being around another person will fix your loneliness. Do you not remember the nights intertwined with someone wishing you could be anywhere else? You just desire what you don't currently have, and it's normal human nature, but your issue seems to be of a greater spiritual emptiness that no one person alone can fill, nor will ever fill. Perpetual longing is the default state of man and you suffer because of this desire,

The thing with hate is you either hate everybody or you hate yourself, but it has to be directed somewhere.
For what use this knowledge is, I don't know,
But it makes sense finally

What I want to see is more blue, or maybe
Light greyish
Teal
Coated with sparkles
In a reflective aquarium
With eels and sponges,
Then I can go swim with my face facing the fishes like my friends in
    The deepest water, riding a  
bellowing whale to somewhere far far away

there's an obligation  to type something out on a day like this -

and the stratosphere blooms
and the exhale   of the black matter   is like sad comfort

Endless neuroses

pulling the trigger takes courage
Jumping from a burning building
Is an of act of desperation
Where this ends I don't know
I keep walking towards the fire

it's like  rain dripping off the back of
 a crow in the night straight into the gutter,
  straight into the filthy unknown.  
  cheap cheeap cheap


outdone by some
dancer

just go **** your Egyptian kiss *** lover boy
I don't care.
You'll have to do a lot more to ever make me jealous,
like leaving me alone
when I need space

12       hours  is all it takes  for the shore line to recede and return into

a crumbling abyss
overlooking an  albatross prairie.


if There was no alternative
then what is your  choice?

I see she is a baker ,,   and      a mincer and maid   and protagonist
to a fairytale.

she is tall
and weary.

the nicest eyes ---    but still so  malevolent.

I take a bath in the cold air,   as the leaf  sits like a balloon  on   a gush-geiser blowing crystals 3000ft into the air
no room for the  wanderer.


I PICKED UP THE TOME

I read the last chapter.  

What you said about throwing your own book into the night
weeping for what may have come to her
struck me as profound.

not a lot touches me.

As I write i feel the humming in my head like a hummingbird pecking fruit. I hear my tinnitus and I hear a running faucet. I hear the distinct sound of nothing and I lay here on my bed with my mesh shorts
I have nothing to say but I've simply reflected on my life quite a bit. I need to make a load of changes. I won't spam poems of despair if I'm not actively making an effort. I have a fair idea how this will all end, but the effort is worthwhile nonetheless.

I have $55
I walk into a grocery store and buy lemons

I walk into a post office and hear hissing

I sold the old stolen bike.

I am a prayer to noone
Battered and bruised but the pain is a reminder of my persistence.

I have moved on from toxic relationships and that has left me with no relationships. Maybe I'm the problem. But I'm not giving up. I'm giving in
To my better self

So sad I barely feel any anger anymore.
I dreamed of lashing out
at one point but for what purpose?

Acclaim,
passing notoriety?

I am nothing and I will return to nothing.
I need to cease all notions of ego and pride.

Just need to be as docile and accepting as a rabbit as it's picked off by a coyote. You served your purpose. Or maybe there was none, but it's time to leave anyway.

I sat up in amazement



I took a shower

I wrapped it up

and paid for the left overs.

I smiled at the door ---   the paste lay
in a bowtie

back up in a lamborgini
playing the newest

SMAP

death found me today

I have realized that im a prose writer who just writes with

odd



spacing.

It's time to stop pretending,

Or just time to be courageous and write what im supposed to.

But i cant be here anymore.

2 thousand poems and i have said nothing

it hurts

so much there's a tear in this heart

So much the claws come clawing

So much

the knees dont bend



So much the surprise is apathy and the face is demented like rot on a lung



I hang my head inside. I wrap up the good ones who wont go. Free as ever.

- you

I got a like by a guy,
His name was Mystery

So intriguing and conjuring up images of a night club hack

Poets are usually named Phil
Or Jane

Never the

I squeeze what's left of me

  Tired of pleading.
I scroll through walls of shapeless consumerist
talent show entries, all yelling to be picked.

I'm suceptible to the game too. All for money like a *****.
1 step from putting a ***** up my *** and eating fish larvae
In a bucket like a good mukbanger.
I HATE humanity
I HATE being here.

I HATE being cheated and losing my capacity for love and trust, always on edge.

I don't want to compete anymore. I want silence,   but  I can't drown out the noise, like tinnitus
Drilled into my skull
It's always been this way. But now I'm desperate. & There's no more suppressing it

Stay away
plastic people. I don't want your neon lights & your katamine brain
; I want to flop in a large pool as the collectors dive on mint

Leave me be
Let me swallow up life while you
keep working for nothing;
Slaves need their masters to feel free
I am but a discorded sellout

Pay me nothing

Never trust someone who doesn't know the difference between jail and prison.
If they tell you they went to prison for shoplifting, or drunk and disorderly they are full of ****;
especially
if they write numerous poems about it. there's only one poem to write,
and it's about sitting in your bed frame watching jerry springer.
The rest are breakfast poems
Stop lying

out on the lawn



you've got packed lunch.

your friends are dumb


and i'm just about to dive
down.


hand me
the torch--


in the bed post
i buried
her,

and she still breathes in my ear

ever after all these years

Don't ever fault yourself for having loved too much
That's like faulting the sky for having gave a desert too much rain to see if at least
one flower could
grow

It's getting hard to live
When I can't even make up my mind
To exist

You get what you give
It's no use tryna make it out alive

Don't forsake me
Let me be
I'm riding this wave
Into uncertainty
With my eyes closed
Waiting for the call



I fold my head in my hands
And pray to eternity

I wanna make my way into the callous air

And see

Turning off for now

windowless blue flake temples
I hope I'm not hated.
I hate myself enough

We're all connected one away or another. If we're all essentially energy in a limitless plane just know that fetus whose brain is suctioned out is you. That ****** thats beaten and laying helpless in a gutter is you. That man ****** the child is you. The patient gouging out his own eye is you. That dictator starving the populous is you. I'm you writing this. You're me reading it. You're everyone and everyone is me. That itch in your arm is the millions as they decay, and the trillions as they echo back from the void; we see the limitless expanse. We feel the emptiness. There's no escaping god when you always were God

I just lost another poem by my finger sliding and hitting a button oh well it doesn't matter. It was ok, I liked the description of a certain woman's hair as 'death' and my heart like a pale sepiatone.
Anyway you win or not or whatever.
I think I'm a loser, or just really don't care anymore.
What's winning if it costs you everything and it's for someone else? Get the **** out of my life.
I hope it's sunny tomorrow so I can feed some ******* ducks in the park

I'm sorry for giving you too much hope
maybe I was too eager to believe myself, because what is worth living for
if you have nothing to put your faith into?
we may as well be dead at that point,
and I'm not ready to die
yet

Rolling hardship up a hill like a hungry peasant

I lay my offering at the temple.
So very lost,
I see no reflection, have we all been
duped

to the
programming 100s

house is the first place to look
, typing them in licking boxes with a mouse any day, in my opinion

Has always worked so far
side-stepped
usually laugh at these, but this made my day
stimulus are  wrong accounts:
17 bodies at a New Jersey nursing home

So what

nothing to do,
    there's a black cloud  in  the bright sun--
crushing leaves as you trudge in
the noon mist

neighbor
is beating a rock with his clump of wood and it makes a
cacophony of bass-
lit, I wish I had the words to say-
just spilling out because there's nothing to keep it in. coming undone and its not
nice, nor that interesting

They make me write I sit down
I've evacuated these bowels countless times
You lean against a fence and leery eyes silently judge what the **** did I do
to
you?

dirt under the nails   a little blood on the lips a little sunshine in the pit a little shadow in the room a little coffeee in the cup a little echo in the chamber a little buzzing from the fridge a little leaning in the stick man a little understanding in the chalkboard flower a little missing from the brain
a little missing from the jet stream
a little missing from the patched up
valve
a little missing from thesentence
a little missing from the period
a little missing from the bleach jug
a little missing from the puzzle  alittle missing from the moon
a little missing
from the tree branch
a little missing from the fire fly
a little missing from the teacher and nun
a little missing from the daycare kid
a little missing from the afternoon sandwich
a little missing from the strawberry in the dawn
a little missing
from the terminal-cancer prayer
a little missing
from the
dog in the grocery store
a little missing from
the shade in the heat
a little missing from the crying in the ward
a little missing from everything
but nothing was ever whole to begin with

Perhaps it is of no use
then will you make the mistake of choosing it?
If it had a chance, sure, but otherwise skip around yer eels, your heels are cloudy love, now and then
you can trap a disaster.
right around the throat don't let it
go
I loved once too

Rise up rise up
Rise up
to the dogs and choirs and to the
Audience that stares, sigh slightly and gratefully
You only ever had yourself,.  They came as parasites after
   and left  as the fire started to rage in the combing street below the hospital windows

you only want me because I'm the one person who won't
give you what you want, because you should
know better

Couldn't believe it, I planted a tree, and where was the false
God?

When I look away I fall forward. Nice  to know, account down, so was the  
promise of reclusion. I always find my way back

Suitcase full of stuff lungs full
Of residue
Off a cliff the rocks sit and pearly doves make their nests it's
too late

I've lived a thousand lives
I've sat at thrones
And curled under paper blankets
I've folded my heart
for the vengeful & decadent

I've bled into a gaping chasm
& sold my soul for pennies
, lost all semblance of sanity
incalculable times .
Despaired at the scenic
destruction of a planet amidst competing interests.
Gouged out my eyes so I could see
Suckled at the teet of angels, &
tortured by ravenous imps
smattered in black sorrow.

I have lived,. And I have died.
I exist.
And I see the silver lining.
Somewhere behind the great curtain

you were going to the mall


and watching a movie.  you itched your head- and your eye blinked.
your hand got cold,
and your tongue was wet.
your lips were blue,
and your nose was sniffly.

the air was hot,
and the chips were stale.
and the noises
were weird,
and the dialog was forgettable,

and the pain was unbearable.

and the night was long.

and the prayers and pleading amounted to absolutely
nothing

Famous ,5am poem

canned thunder
lofi beats
Snoring cat
Blender upstairs
Fat raccoon
eating larded trash
Moon is full
Rain is wet
Grass is cut
Window is open
Eyes are heavy
Nowhere to go
Still trying to dream
See you
when we wake
up


j

my dreams
are dead


sitting in the trash

can

--
brain matter in my head

my dreams are dead

i am dead

i am dead


no more luck
or glory-

spoons sitting ***** on the table

with the abused
flower


.

no one is here
to hear
it


dreams are
nothing to me now

nothing to me now


i gave up too easily

i don't even know what i wanted

I  don't want anything   right                                     now

i  want my
bitcoin  to     yield better returns

I guess.


Blue

blue


blue                                              into                 a                lake          of

needles
spelling out

                                                                                     your mistress.


pulse felt
beyond the dead.

beyond here and now.

staring
at you

and   knowing  

it all

I'll lie to her
with her fat rolls &
tiny feet
"You are so ****, *** *** so ****"
All men lie to get *****

It's been harder lately and it's probably because my purposeless aura transmits through the phone screen in photonic dismal
decay

I **** her anyway. It's okay.
If I've learned anything it's that we are slaves to our selves til the end; salvation
   is when you can
Walk unfettered in a world of pain & lies
& Hate all that you think you love because the ones you love hate you the most

Something like that

she's finally gone,
and I'm happy for her.
I felt like I was an abusive owner to a kitten feeding it nasty leftovers and barely attending to it when just over the fence was a loving home that would have gladly taken her in and provided the care she deserved. She's probably sad now, but it'll just be for a little while.
sometimes the grass is greener, and I'm glad
she'll be able to find that out,
and find out that she can be loved, just not by the likes of
me
So long, it was something...
<3

In a floating orb
With hands outstretched and
a severed tongue
Crying at the stairs. Bleeding into the night
Hysterical
And assaulted with the bleak reality of an
existence spent blind
I want to see you and understand
I want to love without hurting
Light without the abyss
I am here, and I've been
waiting for something to finally make
sense
because the pain is beyond all
comprehension

******* is what life is about. Splatters. Humor.  Who gives a ****.
Reinhardt
Black.
Rothko pastel majesty .
Ambiguous, neurotic yet disciplined .
Like a blind horse let loose among the plains. No rider to be found

No ****** and taming
No collars among beasts.

Wide space, wide flowing air.  Galloping and triumphant while the weeds bend against the might