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Oct 2020 · 230
Persona non grata
Brandon Conway Oct 2020
I did more than I wished
Less than I thought
And I’m still putting up with you
Oct 2019 · 498
Disorienting Gravity
Brandon Conway Oct 2019
Falling, falling, falling,
or is this
                           ­     T
                          ­   O
towar­ds a shimmer in the distance
like a wind that carries a dead leaf
whispering through the chimes
that fall upon deaf ears
as if the message was sent
and it just wasn't heard

No, this is f
off                    l
    the                  i
precipice  ­           n

as I watch the sky
march round in a funeral procession
of our history

in this disorienting gravity

in this magnetic propinquity

in this psychosomatic schism

every storm proceeds an epoch
                                              of pleasure
as if pleasure
                    is an
Grecian artifact
                        in the backdrop of Ovid

The caterpillar
                       of Like
                       of Love
                       of Hate
cocoons into insouciant

            ­                           Y.
                        ­         W                                
but refuses to fly A
Jul 2019 · 434
Lip Dip Paint
Brandon Conway Jul 2019
Lip Dip Paint
One Two
Lip Dip Pain
Three Four
Lip Dip Pai
Five Six
Lip Dip Pa
Seven Eight
Lip Dip P
Nine Ten
Lip Di
Eleven Twelve

Necrosis of the teeth
the bone becomes brittle
limping with sore feet
the jaw shatters
sores line the throat
mouth only of gums
blood starts to flow
only holes left to tongue
red seeps out the mouth
doctors say this must be syphilis
Oh God, it hurts
to work for greed so villainous

Lip D
One Two
Three Four
Five Six
Seven Eight

Nine Ten

Another girl in the ground again

Eleven Twelve

It's safe, don't you want to
Jul 2019 · 893
Cosmic Vinyl
Brandon Conway Jul 2019
In the center gravity holds
tightly as we spiral
awaiting to enfold
ever pressed in cosmic vinyl
Jul 2019 · 459
Somber Reverie
Brandon Conway Jul 2019
rain down corpuscles of light
into the salty ocean waves
bend for me and smite
the darkness of this drowning cave
where I am held by the cross section
of some fourth dimensional abnormality
maybe it is just my reflection
maybe it is just my reality
something I can't seem to picture
a Corpus Hypercubus sort of memory
tied down by mental strictures
left wondering in this somber reverie
Jun 2019 · 494
It's Been a While
Brandon Conway Jun 2019
It's been awhile myself
seems I only write
to look busy at work
I have forgotten how
to communicate
always looking for
le mot juste
to tell myself
it's okay.
Jun 2019 · 560
Brandon Conway Jun 2019
outgrown the cradle
generation ships cruising
the stars are all ours
Jun 2019 · 311
Brandon Conway Jun 2019
My sweet songbird
My sweet little Ortolan

Captured in
my hugs
I love yous
Drowned in

Draped in linen
to hide from


As I swallow
you whole

My sweet little Ortolan
My sweet songbird
Jun 2019 · 378
Brandon Conway Jun 2019
From a pinpoint explosion
to the edge of space and time
a never ending expansion
racing through stars that shine

stretched too far
like this rubber soul
trapped in a bell jar
a personal black hole

let go
for this name has been expunged
let go
for this big crunch
let go
for this death
let go
and draw the last breath

as the pinpoint universe
explodes only to reform
as stars and time disperse
this soul contorts and transforms

rises from the ashes
and sees a new day birthed
gazes as a new sun flashes
on a new mother earth

happiness has finally been found.
May 2019 · 474
Arm and a Leg
Brandon Conway May 2019
Want to save a leg?
It’s gonna cost you an arm!
Want to save an arm?
May 2019 · 940
Brandon Conway May 2019
Soma that seeps
like little creeks
off the edge
a tongue outstretched
wilted flower beds
that pretty head
arid to wetlands
Apr 2019 · 1.4k
Powehi - 4/10/2019
Brandon Conway Apr 2019
Gaze upon the hidden
an impossibility
light is forbidden
in this distorted intangibility

But we see
we see
general relativity
Feb 2019 · 365
A Can of Life
Brandon Conway Feb 2019
Life is a soup
and I am a fork
how life slips
and drips on the floor

Yeah, it’s a mess
Feb 2019 · 628
Brandon Conway Feb 2019
I'm always sorry
but never apologize
sorry about that
Feb 2019 · 304
Space Madness
Brandon Conway Feb 2019
Engines turned off as I free fall
and watch
drifting in this star's gravity
the ships
bathe in the ocean of life
and then
one continues toward the flame
a moth
heats up and dissipates
another lost to madness
So it goes
Feb 2019 · 387
Frost's Arrow
Brandon Conway Feb 2019
Reflect upon the history that's left behind
swim in the ocean of predictions and expectations
gliding along with the arrow of time
orbiting moments of quick sensations
as we dance round in a ring and suppose
but the Secret sits in the middle and knows.
Dec 2018 · 461
My Loquacious Tide
Brandon Conway Dec 2018
my loquacious tide
flow into my heart
then ebb into
evanescent dreams
melancholy into
this new form
these eyes have never

How are you so beautiful?

the heat arises
inside this vessel
when you are near
451 Fahrenheit
this palpitating page
burns for your words
to hear you speak
to see you flow
through time

How are you so graceful?

The curve of your smile
is contagious
if only while in the presence
of your vanilla scent
your skin,
your laugh,
your countenance,
how they are so radiant

How do I capture this firefly?
Nov 2018 · 1.7k
A Spade a Spade
Brandon Conway Nov 2018
A gravekeeper by trade
burying the dead to stay alive
with a green thumb and *****
the unused earth oh how it strives!

Fat tubers and roots
green leaves with red veins
small vines sprouting fruits
even a small section for grains

The gravekeeper never goes hungry
his family never starves
he loves living in the country
and his plot of earth that he carves

One day two fresh dead
and a rat, maybe two scampered by
soon a sickness to be widespread
day by day how that multiplied!

More bodies into the earth
how did his garden shrink
he was crying and crying
this gravekeeper didn't know what to think!

Should he be happy for business
should he be sad for the loss
is he crying for his vegetables
or is he crying for the bodies that are tossed

Little by little did the green become stone
his loved ones feast on a diet of worms
now he, a lonely gardener of bones
sits and watches as his world burns
Nov 2018 · 318
No Promises
Brandon Conway Nov 2018
The cold usurped the trees
I watch their children fall
filling up the wet street
winter forestalled with a cask
                                             of alcohol

watch as the tip of his tongue
touches the roof of his mouth
whips down and spouts out
the reasons why we have
                                         this drought

but its raining now
maybe something will grow
or a sea of spit
with rolling waves
                              will overflow

I told her I would try
to rekindle with him
stuck in cabin's twilight
sewing sinews of this
                         phantom limb

how does one talk
before they think
does he hear the words
that dribble into his
                               warm drink

then ascends as steam
back into that cavernous nose
to permeate his brain
and slowly seeps into
                             tattered clothes

this "vacation" will be over
but not soon enough
a couple more days
all I have to do is
                         avoid fisticuffs

no promises.
Nov 2018 · 299
Brandon Conway Nov 2018
Hunched over in this Bastille dwelling
cobbling out words stitching to a page
day after ----------------------------------                              
            day after ------------------------              
                        day after--------------
                                      day ------

The last bottle of Bordeaux Rouge shatters
and pools on the ***** floor, frantically I
bow down and touch lips to dirt and wine
**** until my sore cheeks flush with blood
stumble back to              the makers bench
carefully carve                  initials marking
days gone by and          by days gone by
at night I lay my head upon the guillotine
hoping to wake drenched in red in a basket
this self revolution will some day pass
Nov 2018 · 446
Brandon Conway Nov 2018
On a thread how I hang
from the finger's sinew
my name nothing but slang
hidden in your menu

Oh master, oh master
how I sing your keen name
your tongue leaves court plaster
as your eyes rip and maim

I shout into the wind
and watch the words float by
perverse ears that rescind
a love that's gone awry

from your aloof finger
how my bruising neck sways
how my yearning lingers
legs will not turn away

Your want my desire
my desire your bliss
your bliss to set fire
I, those flaming red lips

I wish I could conjure
philters for you to drink
my concoction is but
poison turned to black ink

Soon the master will sell
their useless pawn, a slave
I will answer your belle
until the ocean waives

Rolling salt filling lungs
in the abyss I lay
left for the fishes tongues
Atropos’s shear’s prey
Nov 2018 · 2.5k
Make Haste
Brandon Conway Nov 2018
Silky cocoon of routine leaves
this metamorphosis stagnating
how the discomfort thieves
the fear of change isolating

The struggle lies in the escape
with no energy left to attempt
monotonous days left to drape
as if life holds me in contempt

Hanging on this lonely branch
sometimes I pray just to fall
monotonous routine's avalanche 
creates days so banal

And then a child finds the lonely silk
plucks carefully into a glass jar
Oh how the curiosity of their ilk
creates this warm inner spar

A want to escape
a need to taste 
freedom's luscious grapes
make haste happiness, 
make haste.
Nov 2018 · 694
Gorgon's Masonry
Brandon Conway Nov 2018
The gorgon's masonry casting châteaus
for the rich
turning hearts to pompous narcissist

once of legends and myths
has arisen once again
blue light and endless scroll

the gorgon's masonry casting shadows
for the everyman
turning hearts to pompous narcissist
Nov 2018 · 427
Milk and Honey
Brandon Conway Nov 2018
Luminous flame with its gossamer glow
orange hue reflects off thy pure marble
blue fractal veins, the calm river I trek
relish thy flesh planting lips on carpal

under thy luster thy hypnotic spell
an ephemeral release from daily hell

Garden of Eden, oh how do I feast
only if I could be thy true Adam
but I am an Adam for all sweet Eves
the serpent hissing to bite the apple

Coiled scales swaddling flesh, whispering
tongue in thy ear, toothsome words, promising

milk and honey.
Oct 2018 · 528
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
Happiness is but sand in a hourglass
all the memories sit at the bottom of the pit
ones left to look upon in remembrance


to be turned over again
Oct 2018 · 1.7k
The Metallic Garden
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
When I first passed the gates
into the metallic garden
stamping out seeds
                      for the junkyard
with its infinite cardiac output

I gazed upon the eyes of the creatures
that inhabited this oily soil
                            of steel and chemicals
all I saw was a cry for help
to escape
          to be away
                just one day
they cry, just one day

I got caught in the claws
and it scratched
                       and scratched
the wounds heal but the scars stay

I have become a trapped animal
                                     with eyes of dismay

There's little chance of escape
I can dream
           I can pray
one day, I echo
               one day

Now I am just taxidermy
for this godforsaken industry
and they call this
Oct 2018 · 280
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
Sleeping is a contract
I keep signing
Waking is a contract
I keep breaking
I just want what
Kumbhakarna had
six months isn't much
so I can sleep this
sickness away.
Oct 2018 · 362
A New Day
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
Gold melts away
the dark blanket
as if a sign to start

be ambitious
he whispers

you answer back

and slowly block the
gold penetrating through the window
with your blanket of doubt
Oct 2018 · 439
Driving to Work
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
Rising sun reflects
beaming straight into my eyes
sunglasses missing
Oct 2018 · 299
Priest Hole
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
My heart paces in an abandoned cage
that still holds the smell of lions ****
and human decay

They took my house from me
and He
abandoned me and the early seed

Oh how
love loses to profession

and I lost both
for something that may be
traced back to my blood
even though
I have never even been in a Synagogue
or prayed

It doesn't matter to the ones in
crisp black, green, and grey

The word I hear
from the birds tweet
animals are being imported
from Germany

This cage is not an idea home
but it has kept me safe
but now
I am truly alone
due to what they think is my faith

I must survive
for the little one inside
this would be the end.
Oct 2018 · 249
Espada de Matar Toros
Brandon Conway Oct 2018

A muleta drapes over my chest
the ripples pass through with the wind
while we dance around this dusty plaza de toros
eyes fixated
thinking you can gore mon coeur
I only give you the illusion of control
but in the end
it will be my estoc tongue that
pierces your flesh
between the shoulders
with crimson words
I am no novillero
cornada's in the past only strengthen the future
a porta gayola posed and ready
awaiting that ferocious charge
Oct 2018 · 446
"I was Born in a Tent"
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
Old man with his Atacama tongue
dusting off stories of his youth
forty-nine knock outs he spattered out
heavy weight champion travelin' the world
stories of tribes auctioning off slaves
that they couldn't sell
that became that nights meal
pieces in a stew
how it could make a man cry and cry
oiling up trees so the lions
slide right off
tent births and baseball cards
a preacher neighbor who beat a woman
then had his teeth knock out
by the holy word
then points out his bird houses
only to dive deep into something else

"Old man" says I,
"I have to return to work
but next time I will save
your stop for last. There's
an oasis in that head of yours
and I tend to bask in it."
Oct 2018 · 263
Hit and Run
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
Moon beaming through clouds
white light pierces fog, grows closer
tail light flees the scene
Oct 2018 · 403
Est-ce la fin ?
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
Our arms lock and embrace
I stare at your lovely face
the reflection in your eye
shows another guy
that's standing behind

Dagger stabbing, blade twisting
back bleeding, stomach turning
eyes blurry, ears ringing
mouth drying, brain denying.

Am I just your stability?
Oct 2018 · 1.3k
Death in the Afternoon
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
The devil sits at its zenith
Hell’s warmth embracing
a bead of sweat escapes
both the man and the beast
locked and circling
until one leaves alive
both man and beast
want to show their bravado
one charges
one waves and dodges
both smell death’s breath
a crimson river starts to flow
and the dance is repeated
until one sits on Charon's boat
or is pulled by death’s horses
but in this dance
both have tripped and fallen
death is overjoyed in the afternoon
Oct 2018 · 4.8k
Fallen Angel
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
Smoke signals from a silent cigarette
float to the heavens and linger
in the mucky conscience of regret
resting on the temple, my forefinger

Thumb lifted to expose
a metaphorical gun
countenance in prose
staring at a midnight sun

When will that monster again ****
another that I love,
Why did I so feel
like I could best the powers from above

I created a ghastly Adam
and I dare not create an innocent Eve
my future I cannot fathom
all time left to grieve

I will chase this gruesome snake
no matter where it slithers
across Hell's frozen lake
this calamity summons me hither

My final and only ambition
is to cast a life to silence
his and my cognition
will clash and bite in violence

I created a monster
and a monster created me
Madness! How it so saunters
and wails as if a banshee

Look over on the frozen horizon
a horrid shadow stalks
I, a fire stealing Titan
will march out to solve this paradox
Oct 2018 · 3.2k
Bachelor Party
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
My countenance
made love with the harsh earth
she left me
and bloodied
with a couple days
plucked out of my memory
thank whoever is above
for the few buddies
that pulled me to the
corner with a flashlight
bag of cold ice
shoulder rubs
and words of advice
I got back in the ring
ready for to resume the fight
I learned that night that
you can't beat Gaia
but that you could endure
a few rounds.

Just kidding,
I was knocked out
during the first round.
Oct 2018 · 347
Your Last Poem
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
This is a haiku
about my last thought of you
it is just as short
Oct 2018 · 314
Flower Girl
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
A flower girl tried to sell me a flower
picked from my own garden
a thin starving guttersnipe dressed so dour
my seldom emphatic heart granted my pardon

I gave her a tenner for the red rose
and told her to "keep the change"
she, now the subject of my next poetic prose
about the girl who makes my heart feel strange
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
Soaring over the idyllic fields of poet's day dreams
an opening exposes some endless blue
the sun cast's his golden rod
and waits while humming his bright tune

Suddenly submerged
for his bait we had chewed
turbulence drops yellow bags
and white fog blinds our view

The sun is toying with us
letting the line out farther and farther
the old sun and the sky
a departure within a departure

Finally the sun pulls the line
screaming, we steady then ascend
are we going higher now?
better make amends
                                 via amens

Look all the fog is gone
this isn't the suns pole
the light is fleeing and
this cabinet grows so cold

The air thins into non existence
yet somehow we can breath
in these celestial waters
watch as the earth takes her leave

Reeling faster now
how these stars pass by
what's beyond the celestial sphere
this fisherman sure is spry

Finally a golden gleam approaches
splash through the pearly gates
into the net of heaven
pietistic fingers embrace

An omniscient voice speaks
and he tossed this metal heap away
who do I eat and who do I romance

It's going to be a long journey home.
Oct 2018 · 583
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
Feast your eyes upon all the

trapped in the grills of fat and
                                                           ­         trucks

so far away from the idyllic blades of
                                                                ­ green
                                                                ­        and
                                                                ­           sun

crossing ***-hole asphalted rivers where
                                                                ­        speed
                                                                ­            amuck

We all get hurt crossing seemingly
                                                        ­           streets

and end up in some wolf-dressed-as-sheep
                                                                ­    machine's
                                                                ­               sharp
                                                                ­                     teeth

are we different from the insects

If only you could wiggle your body more to the side
but the alligator never slows and the wind is a bonafide
At least I can see whats ahead, might as well enjoy the ride.
Oct 2018 · 376
Time is but a Smudge
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
Am I too early
or so so very late?
Time is but a smudge
of mixed acrylic paint.

My history, the canvas
and my pen a brush.
Time is but a smudge
dripping through my clutch.

Dreams blur into nightmares;
nightmares into day-time thoughts.
Time is but a smudge
of profits and loss.

When the end comes
my journal will be passed.
Time is but a smudge
that my children will grasp.

They will both read
of my love for them.
Time is but a smudge
in this infinite realm.

They will both know
how much I love them so.
Time is but a smudge
and if it weren't for them I would of let go.

Time is but a smudge
in an never ending orbit
time is but a smudge
and they have made it euphoric.
Oct 2018 · 1.2k
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
The quill's sodden ink evaporates
while this bell jar encapsulates
leaving these dreary words to permeate
only to rain back down and stagnate

this terrarium, my lonely estate
pickling eyes that spate
people peer through the glass only to deprecate
while I slowly start to acclimate

two horizons squint until light dissipates
allowing the darkness to overtake
monsters crawl out to dilapidate
snarls and growls devastate

this is fate this is fate this is fate this is fate
is it too late is it too late is it too late is it too late
echos verberate echos verberate echos verberate echos verberate
this is fate and it is too late these echos verberate and I ruminate
I ruminate and ruminate and ruminate and ruminate

with a languid gait
a countenance set straight
while I desperately try to create
a happy blissful sunny green free state

it's not too late it's not too late it's not too late
meditate meditate meditate meditate
don't let the glass alienate
pick up the hammer and swing
                                                       till the glass B    E      K
                                                ­                                R    A      S.
Brandon Conway Sep 2018

Floating brazier spews electric amber waves
as a setting sun radiates on the ceiling
a shadow of a ship coquettishly sways
while in the center charybdis begins swilling

another message, another missed call
another debt collector and his esurient talk
watch the ship begin to swirl, this scene so banal
amber feathered tawny eyed peacock

continues furtively to scroll her story and shoe shop
crowded room with a panel onstage
reality and fantasy evaporate and fall as a single raindrop
drown in the muck, don't know how to disengage

and to stay in the sway of fantasy.
Spent all day in a conference about chemicals. 10 hours. It was quite boring, but the setting was nice.
Sep 2018 · 1.9k
The Bell Jar Shattered
Brandon Conway Sep 2018
Behind these eyes, insanity
a slow permeation of a voice
screaming truths and half truths

I just don’t want to listen
so I flood the head
just to drown the haunting

but it is ******* immortal
every night I send an eagle
to gnaw on the larynx

every morning it’s there to greet
disguised as a fictional friend
                  fiend. I meant fiend.

it’s kudzu it’s ******* kudzu
every day is a mid spring day
even in winters delicate palms

I spend the nights soaking in a bath
last night I let the water ******* tongue
soon it will feast on my lungs

I can go out like Plath
except my poems are bad
and my novel is only a paragraph

I will not
     let the inner
          demons win.
Brandon Conway Sep 2018
"I am dying."

"Its hardly a cold."

"Will you fetch me a thermometer?"

"I will send for one, you Shakespearean."

"I am glad you can make jokes to a dying friend."

"Learn to hold your wine."

"You mean drink? Or what I am doing now?"


"Will you still be my friend in the morning?"

"If you are alive."

"Good. I am dying you know?"

"You died a week ago and the week before that."

"It's real this time. You will not be happy in the morning."

"Why is that?"

"You will wake to a foul smell and realize that your mourning will be spent digging a hole."

"Oh, so like most mornings with you."

"You are a real pal. Pass the wine?"
Sep 2018 · 4.7k
Brandon Conway Sep 2018

I visited the heavens today
all gods were absent
looked out the window
we were in the clouds

landed in Detroit
on a dreary day
why would it be any different?
this skeletal remain of a city

at least the bartender was great
but now I’m drunk wandering around
hope I wake up in my hotel
Sep 2018 · 1.2k
Incantations from a Siren
Brandon Conway Sep 2018

The ocean's wave rolls
and beats repeatedly
carving a way into the soul
of this precipice
foaming at the mouth

no, wait....

that's just your tongue
coated in a miasma of
a siren song
you ******* liar  

sunbathing on my pyre
the whole town now congregates around
with devil-red
containers of gasoline
while your devil-red
lips act the fire

Only the clever witches
survived the trials

the whole town now dances around
feasting on the lotus petals
that root in the palm of your hand

look at them move
locked in each others hands
"This will bring peace"
while they nod and agree

"Pour more gasoline"
escapes between those sharp teeth

happiness is a moveable feast
at least your eating
like a queen

go ahead and **** the marrow
out of these innocent bones
tomorrow I will be gone

once I thought of you as Ithaca
now realize that these
are Troy's stones

it's time to sail back home.
Sep 2018 · 3.2k
The Nature Fix
Brandon Conway Sep 2018
Squalid off-white cube
fluorescent buzzing hue
water stained tiles
tribulation from digital files

dilapidated symbiote
invisible hungry parasite
optimism capsized in the abyss
tedium tongue french kiss

five hours a month
forest bathing in the sun
a cure they say
nature is a gateway

shambling down trails
languid gait sails
fractal patterns surround
tweets in background

head starts to clear
wondrous frontier
five hours a month
soaking in the sun

not enough time
to melt away grime
five hours a week
leaves a happier physique

summer sea breeze
rolling over unease
basking in the heat
leaving is so so bittersweet

return to human farm
pray for fire alarm
nature is a gateway
natures my getaway
Sep 2018 · 2.0k
Yorick’s Skull
Brandon Conway Sep 2018
Foot meets the metal of a cold shovel
with a sun beaming down
booted foot pushes the *****
into the soft and rooty ground

one mound of dirt
sweat forms above the brow
two mounds of dirt
salty bead slithers down
three mounds of dirt
tuned into the sounds
four mounds of dirt
birds chirp all around

stopped by a thick root
extra force must be used
give that shovel a pogo of boots
and we are at the fifth mound

six and seven are easy
as the hole starts to round
eight nine ten eleven twelve
a tomb has been found

carried your sheet covered corpse
laid you in the hole
cover you with what was uncovered
creating a man made knoll

Six years of memories
laid underneath this red dirt
many years missing
that time gone subvert
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