To whom it may concern
The toils and burdens my soul upturns
Burns insipid valleys in her earthly world
I am the pronouced hate
Invigorating the vapid sensation
So plastically waiting to commensurate
Residing in the bowels of God my stitched fate
Defecates the defective path, one day we all must take
Smite the plight purging these devilish urges?
Or rage the plague until the roots of life are twisted with screeching decay?
Either way death always stares one dead in the face
And yet it is I who carries the torch to light your funeral dirge

A stranger in atrophy, cringing bleak teeth
Erratic Discordian defeat

His reality painted in dismal dreams
A palette of cacophony

Nailed to shadows under his feet
Swallowed by lingering tears trapped in time's tyranny

Constrained to a chaotic labyrinth
Meandering in the shell of the mind

Anchored to the subtle precepts of the past
This phantom universe slips from his grasp

Oh Great American Pioneers
Is there nothing more we hunger to discover?
Is there no longer a thrill to explore, unravel, or  seek?
What happened to the inclination
of chasing curious mysteries in the ubiquitous abyss
Revealing uncharted geography
Tasting foreign experiences
Lost in fecund meandering

Our puzzles cannot possibly be complete
There will always be an abundance of missing pieces
So set out and search for these conundrums
Break free from the mainstream recluse state of defeat
Or be content with T.V. dinners and two hour showers
Dreaming about what you could have been

I loathe this monotonous behavior
Stop being an unconscious participator
Escape your hostage environment
Become the instigator

The death of the pioneer is what I mourn
The dead American dream is how I was born

There is a Cheshire cat with a nefarious nose ring
Who lashes berating riddles, and vernacular that’ll make you cringe
He slithers through abandoned shadows
On dilapidated gravel, and bears a deathly sickle grin
Enticing as he may be, he only wishes to deceive
So be wary of his beguiles, they are hidden underneath his symmetrical smile
Nor give in to the plastic prophecies he preaches
Nothing he teaches will stitch meaning into your ambiguities
For he enslaves your sorrows and siphons your dreams
Leaving you asphyxiated in catatonic screams

You are
The most marvelous marmalade
masquerading
in a jar of jelly
let me
run my fingers through
and get sticky
with your confetti

Beauty and life is jubilant at every sight
But I seem to be discontent
My hasty heart is empty searching to reign supreme in the first lover's eyes I meet
An affectionate gaze is all I need to extinguish this insatiable grief  
So I observe patiently with lingering love coursing through my sanguine blood
But I feel as though potential lovers perceive me as a facade
Merely passing through me like an apathetic mirage
I try to captivate them with enchanting words
But they flutter and dissolve without a magnitude of concern
Leaving me feeling as blank as these walls, wishing to transpire into an alluring waterfall
Inanimate and free
No more lost causes and awkward pauses
Just a flowing force careening with no set course
But instead I'm lost dreaming with my pen
Wishing, hoping, the courage of love will let me in

Drowning in placid dreams
Stagnant and stale, though fleeting and frail
the prevailing conditions of my premonitions
Are harbored by betrayal
The sword unsheathed
Malice and pale
Stained somber silhouettes
unveiling what was to entail

This is my disposition
It rises like a sail
caressing the wind
I take a breath
Blowing away my travails

Righteous and cunning
Her wings were stunning
Fondling my imagination she seeped into my salvation
but hasty anticipation toppled the torrid sensation  
Awkward we lapsed
into hardened silence
Shedding passive violence

This is my disposition
The love we shared
beared burdens of despair
But we didn't care

Belligerent and blind
Your lips stumbled toward mine
Our tongues intertwined
Tearing stars out the sky
We stole the night
  
This is my disposition
The cold blue air exchanged
An ensemble of rusty winds
The abyss replacing our forgotten names