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153 · Jun 2019
suckin' on the bone
Laokos Jun 2019
you know, the
weight of this ****
isn't very poetic.

the long days alone
do ******' hurt
sometimes -
guess i'm not as
tough as ol' Hank
or Ernie -
guess i'm still
just one lazy beauty
away from
having the guts
to end it.

jesus, some days
I just want to
crack my head open
to get rid of
these feelings and
voices and imaginings.

I think ,
      "just one girl who truly cares would make it all ok" , but
I know it won't.
in time, they'll leave
me too
and I'll be right back
here suckin' on the
bone.

****, I need something
to begin in me,
something with grit and
indifference and ingenuity
and terrifying passion.

I'm so tired of
these days of chewing
the gravel and flat
echoes ;
     of waiting to die ;
     of waiting to live.
151 · Oct 2020
the toll
Laokos Oct 2020
there is a price to
authenticity that
most people
are not prepared
to pay

the cost
(at least in part)
is:
indifference,
isolation,
rejection, failure,
anxiety, madness,
etc.

it's vicious
strangers and
deadly lovers--
all of them
with spinning
flowers for
eyes as they
dig in: the
elbow, the
heel, the
knife

becoming who
you are demands
that you sacrifice
every inch of
what you
thought you
were to the
eternal flames

it means you're
gonna be hard
on yourself--harder
than anybody else
has ever been
on you

it means you're
gonna think
about killing
yourself
sometimes--you
may even come
close--

and,
make no
mistake, it
will be the
death of you
someday,
but
it will be
the best death
you could've
offered yourself

you will look
back upon
your life with
a cutting
smile and
piercing eyes
knowing that
you stayed
fighting

through every
cheap shot,
backstab, and
bad call

every
knockdown,
defeat, and
sabotage

you kept
coming, no
matter what
life threw at
you:
poverty,
shame,
guilt,
loss,
exile

these things
mean nothing
in the face
of true
becoming

and what
is becoming
if not
annihilation
and that
which remains
after its
totality?
146 · Apr 2020
universal banker
Laokos Apr 2020
it's also
a trust
and without
any deposit
there is no
balance.
137 · Jun 2019
scheduling conflict
Laokos Jun 2019
here I go,
blundering through another day

trying to show up for my end of
the bargain.

I sit here,
with this pen and this notebook,
and the stuff is
supposed to barrel through me.


it's supposed to shake the debris free.

it's supposed to melt the lock.

it's supposed to blast my cemented mind apart.

it's supposed to summon shadows and make them dance.

it's supposed to swim on the surface of the sun.

it's supposed to show me all the rainbows in the darkness.

it's supposed to shine the silver on all my shredded scraps.

it's supposed to reach through all my ******* and show me:

     emeralds and pearls\teeth and knives\
     blood and glass.

it's supposed to twist the blade and spit in the ****.


but this morning,
it's the big bupkis
     -nada

just the weight
of its silence...



that *******
probably
has the
day off
too.
130 · Jun 2019
pass me the butter
Laokos Jun 2019
days on a
leash
of culture
and family.

history
hardwired
into your
own code.

heaven is
a mudslide
barreling down
on you.

hell is
the seed of
your health.

break bread
with your
demons
often.
129 · May 2020
anemic albino animus
Laokos May 2020
two (or is it three...?) weeks in to the
overnight shift and never have i wanted
   to wash myself in
the golden rays of that nearest                     star
our sun more than i do now as the ineradicable
   cloak of night stretches
itself over these my newly waking hours.  this night
i feel massive but
diffuse, like the ghost of a
   glacier lingering amongst the scablands;  nebulous
and immense,
   like a short-circuited god-machine
cannibalizing itself in a forgotten
corner of the universe.    the sleep is broken, the
mind needs rest.  the mind needs
   rest.
126 · Jun 2019
the greener grass
Laokos Jun 2019
I hear people say severely romantic
things to each other.
I see them believe it as
their eyes swell.
I notice their desperate
hooks finding a mark,
any mark.

they begin to construct
a mythos immediately upon
initial mutual affirmation.
they design
every reason why
this 'other' is the only
'other' that
makes sense, that
could ever make
sense.

they enchant themselves
and each other.
they build
an elaborate simulation
together and
promise/doom themselves
to never leave it.
they swear and curse
to feed the pantheon of
gods they created to
rule over them.

they commit themselves
to the
chains of
a shallow love.

but hey what do I know, right?

I'm just
another fool
waiting to get
what he
deserves.
126 · Apr 2020
modern pantheon
Laokos Apr 2020
"This is a collect call from: 'Darlene Ryder', at the Nielsen County Sheriff's Department, press '2' to accept charges and be connected."

beep

"hello? Bill?...you there?"
"**** Darlene, how many times we gotta ******' do this?!", he threw his voice at her through the phone like a fastball wrapped in firecrackers.
"I dint do nuthin' wrong! they jus got sumpn' against me s'all!"
"uh huh, the **** d'you do, huh?
"the ***** had it comin', I was jus tryin' to have a few 'n relax then she come 'n talk 'bout how I was lookn' atter funny but I watn't- I was jus mindin' my own talkin' to Charlie. So all's I need from you is to get yer lazy, belly-picken', beer-guzzlin' hole fer a face down here and unpinch this ******' mess!" and hung up the receiver on her end of prison.
      The guards shoot each other a look then raise their eyebrows.  They'll be recounting this over beers tonight beneath the monstrous glow of 47 90" TVs in between attempts at the waitress young enough to be their daughter.  They'll shovel in the wings of a total of 18 birds drowned in hot sauce and butter before the sports bar stops feeding them.  Then they'll all drive home drunk with hot breath and testosterone like molasses, ending their nightly routine with their ***** in their hands and their pants around their ankles drooling at tiny glowing screens.  
      Long live the American gods of New Olympus.
125 · Jun 2019
here is a man
Laokos Jun 2019
here is a man, alone but
okay.
here is a man, longing but
guarded.
here is a man, tired and
resigned.
here is a man trying to find a way
to try again; to forgive all the women
he's never known for the way he
was treated by those he has known.
to forgive himself for the tears he no doubt
caused to fall from the women he no doubt
hurt.
he is a broken man
but
glad for it; every crack, every piece, every splinter,
every jagged edge, for he could never know himself
without shedding those parts of him that could
not survive.
the ones that are left are the ones worth being,
no matter how small or irregular they are.
here is a man, in pieces.
here is a man.
Laokos Oct 2020
just thinking back
           on
my twenties and cracking
           a
smile for every tree I hollowed
           out
to make room for a new universe.


now,
in my thirties, I laugh at windows
           stacked
on top of Mercury's head as
           Venus covers her mouth and hides again.
122 · Mar 2020
a toast to the compost
Laokos Mar 2020
here's to every **** poem
i do, have
and
will write.

- thanks
for all the fertilizer.
Laokos Mar 2020
lapse into a swimming pool of calciferous crustaceans alert to the alarm ringing nearby.  what a silly sentence to think twice about writing.  what if they judge my whole existence through that one sentence?  the pottery of the world makes my hand cramp up apparently.  everyone pair up except you -you're too different, we couldn't find a suitable match for you.

                                               sorry,
                                                    management

Post Script: you're receptionist is a colossal *****, you should be very proud!
                                              
                                               Love,
                                                   Amy from Memphis :)

Post Post Script: my daughter baked you some cookies for those things you said about toilet paper and setting the world straight.  thanks sooooooooooo much!!!!!

Post Post Post Script: WE WILL SERVE YOU FOREVER

PPPPS: just a friendly reminder that Monday the 8th we will be having a pizza party to commemorate the launch of Kellen 14 and as such employees are encouraged to wear their genitals on the outside of their body to display their appreciation to the Over Beings.

                                              Many Dawns,
                                                      Kevin from HR
114 · Jun 2019
Chicken Ceasar
Laokos Jun 2019
knock, knock, knock*

I open my door
and am immediately
greeted by
three 19 year old elders.

They want to talk to me
about Jesus and
their version of
a sacred text and I want
to talk to them about: God,
Philosophy, Religion,
Art, Music, etc.

but I just put a greasy
pan on med-high
heat to cook some
bacon and it's
filling my apartment
with smoke.

Yet, my curiosity of
these creatures at
my door temporarily
supersedes kitchen
safety protocols,
so I start to oblige
them and even
entertain some light
discourse in the
hallway.

I begin to explain my
perspective when
my attention skips back
to the pan
and the hot metal
smell tickling my nose.

-protocols back in place-
I decline their invitation
to visit their temple, now
or any time in the
future, then shake
their hands.

I accept a pamphlet
from the last one,
"The Plan of Salvation",
after he scribbles a
phone number on
the back.

I wish them luck
and close my door
without locking it,
stride over to the skillet
and take it off
the burner.

Good thing I removed
the batteries from
all the smoke
detectors.
112 · Sep 2020
small wonder
Laokos Sep 2020
listening to
Father John Misty in
pink
over
pink time

schism-
shifting
into
poppy red

with a pleasing
depth
of shadow
just
within reach
between
them

(while)

our faint
blue
light

speeds

through
the universe
towards
the
ultima Thule
110 · Jun 2019
Becoming
Laokos Jun 2019
Who I am
now.
Who I am
now...
  Who I am
becoming.
Who is yet
to be.
Who may look upon me
and wonder how he
could ever look like that
or
live like that
and
he may laugh truthfully.
Even knowing
doesn't change who I think
I am now.
I am bound
by the boundless.
I am tethered, somehow, to
each version of myself.
Every iteration.
Every refraction.
     L i g h t
     L  i  g  h  t
     L      i      g      h      t
lightness
existing in the most graceful weave
between each of me.
Constant
but impermanent.
Influential and free.
108 · Aug 2020
breaking news
Laokos Aug 2020
newspapers. everywhere.
it was yesterday
when they turned up.
must've been stacks
of them before they
were like this - scattered
throughout the park.

i've thought about
taking a garbage bag down
there and picking them up
but...
there's something
pleasing about watching
them interact with
their new environment;
the way the wind carries
them, the way they spread
out        into       all
       that                     space
as if nothing neatly
arranged wants to
stay that way.

i watch as they attempt to share
their news with the world.
but the trees are silent and
the grass is oblivious.
the print on their pages
means nothing to
them.

i wonder what news the leaves
tell of in a language we don't understand.
of golden and green.
of things passed and
of things to come.

"change," they say.

that is the message they spread
on the wind...
change.
104 · Jun 2020
let it breathe
Laokos Jun 2020
as i live and breathe
and
as i die and shed:
moult,
transform,
undulate,
flourish.
a line or two
for vitality,
for becoming:
   a lake,
   a chasm,
   a riverbed.
a line or two
for mortality,
for becoming:
   a library,
   a prison,
   a crossing.
bodhisattva,
i drank the sun that morning,
golden brew,
a potion upon
my face.
bathing in warm light
eyes closed,
lungs sky,
my blood is a river,
mountains for bones.
my resonance is vitality.
i am becoming;
through death and life
and
through death
and
through life
i alight.
99 · Jun 2019
somnalchemy
Laokos Jun 2019
put to rest a thousand
ways
the Rest is a parent
the rest is apparent

sleep now and
forever and the
nebulous drippings gather
to coalesce

render the beams
from blood only

to suffer close up...

my perception explodes
above
below
beyond
within
around
and
not at all

..I am he without
97 · Jan 17
a bit o' cheese
Laokos Jan 17
i live in a brightness
of worlds
paper-thin

a screenshot of
malleability
introduces my reckoning

today, the serpent
lays hold of
the egg
and starvation
is kept at bay

belly full
cut the cord
the descendants
hang heavy

all my life i've wanted
a reason to
die well

tonight, I hear it
in the sirens...
I hear it
in the coyotes...
I hear it
in my soul...
tonight, I hear it
in plain sight--
as clear
as a daisy

i was allowed
to slow down

to see my life
in a different gear

to venture a guess
towards life in payment
of a different path

i was
hungry
and hung-up

i was held-up
with my pants
down

i was a man
living his life
in the modern
mouse-trap

and nobody
cares about the
man in the
modern
mouse-trap

forget about the
cheese...

find your way
own way
out
95 · Jun 2019
my love is poison
Laokos Jun 2019
your name
spoken
in ceremony,
no aid will
come.

this fragmented
colossus screams
through my
skull.

my love is poison.
my love is poison.
    
there is no antidote.

my love is poison.

see it now in
full light.

my love is poison.

tell me the
truth, that
my love will corrupt me,
that
my love will devour me.

tell me the
truth, that
this horror sings so sweetly
it draws every moth
to its flame.

tell me the
truth, that
my love is poison,
that
someday,

my love will
**** me.
74 · Jun 2019
Weight Training
Laokos Jun 2019
It doesn't matter anymore
It doesn't pull at him
It doesn't flatten him
It doesn't even warm his skin just below the surface

He remembers betting the farm
again and
losing
again

He remembers conjuring her image
with another inside her

intense passion
blind lust
temporary bliss
braided into
one
          juxtaposed
by his familiar
personal hell furnished
with a front row
seat to her
exploration of hedonism

ironically, he is busy
exploring asceticism - although
it is with vague
volition, as in
he does not set
an intention thus,
but finds that
his being naturally
collects there
sometimes

Love as an
intoxicant
Love as
ignorance
Love as
withdrawal

In the wake
of attachment
his ribcage breaks
open like grand
french doors into
which the entire
sea pours

The weight of all
that water
on his heart
showing him
the way
71 · Jan 31
rote lines
Laokos Jan 31
i wrote that drunk
i was trying to bypass
an impasse
lucked out and
circumnavigated the
rabbit
ran into the fox
he stole my color
only to find it again
at first light
and now i nod
to the speed of life
the unceasing turning
of greater and greater
wheels
the lightness of death
as it passes

there's no
circumnavigating
that
65 · Sep 2019
i'm the one
Laokos Sep 2019
the one to let go of
the one that doesn't                                                 fit
the one that is too nice
the one that is aimless
the one that
is more emotional
than you may have
thought
the one that
does not believe
in himself
the one that holds
the knife
the pills
and
n  o   t   h    i     n      g
the one that dropped out
the one that isn't
good enough
the one that is unconscientious
the one without purpose
the one to cheat on
the one to use
the one to leave
the one to forget
the one you don't remember
the one that is a coward
the one that is a fool
the one that is broken
the one who will disappoint you
the one who is oblivious
the one that smothers
the one that is scared
the one that is too skinny
the one that can't defend
himself
the one that will drag
you down
the one with the bleeding heart. . .



Run.
Laokos 6d
patterned love responses
spiraling outward from
the chest in search
of hearth and
hemlock to
soothe the brittle
bones of a
generation lost
to time.

I remember a feeling
once felt in
the spacious quality
of my life
in its infancy.

a 'coo' to my
mother--her face
beaming through
the unknown
harshness of life
yet to touch me.

father was out
working, adding
more and more
points of stress to
his life to provide
for the seeds
he sewed in the
soil of his youthful
ignorance.

adulthood snuck
up on me too and
now its too late to
go back.

these days
the only coup
that will save me
is the one
I perpetrate
against myself.
the one that
corrodes my beliefs
and illuminates
the extent of their
misconceptions about
the world and
what it means
to be me.

loyal are the lashes
that lick my flesh
serving the blood
that drips and
flows to the
soil of my own
wasted youth.

all I can do now
is look forward
to the unknown
that looms ahead;
terrifying and promising
failure and change
alike.

pray to your altars
and cry to the
invisible mute gods;

they will answer
in kind in the
laughter of children
playing upon
your spent life.

and so it goes--
life eats life
and mother's die
too.

use your voice
while you have
it--speak of clouds
and storms that
broke you, of winter
and the living
silence you've endured.

praise be to the
broken and the
weary of heart, for
in the breaking is
the great gift
of life

and what you
become after each
shattering is nothing
short of your
endless potential.
61 · Jun 2019
Nothingwoman
Laokos Jun 2019
She steps outside of what
I could fathom.  A soft
recollection of nothingwoman, a
spectre splitting me like firewood.

In time all my memories
will burn me out leaving
behind what I always was without the fuel
-some sort of holding pattern
for whatever courses through
the circuit; molting matter
in continuous expression of itself.

I am immanence incarnate.
#life #death #philosophy #energy #identity
Laokos Mar 2020
"A revolution is afoot!" shouted a young man as he ran past our window.
      When I got to the window to see who he was, or where he was going, I couldn't find him - in fact there was no one in sight.  I poked my head out to see a bit more and was startled by something flying past my face, a small bird. I watched as he darted gracefully from thin branch to thin branch foraging in the light of the new day. Then the little fella launched himself high, high into the sky and I saw it coming down on us - FAST. It was a colossal foot and it crushed our little home.
53 · Jun 2019
Rememberer
Laokos Jun 2019
I remember you.

Head down, trudging onward.
What nobility is there
if you never stop the momentum?
Blindly following dogma.
Hold it up to the light.
Weigh it against your heart.
Can it carry you to paradise?
Does it need your protection?
Has it atrophied your voice?
Tonight,
scale the walls of your city.
Look to the forest.
Follow the red wolf into the night.
Many eyes will you see in that darkness,
many voices will you hear - it
matters not, you must do this.
Reach the broken bell,
shatter your reflections.
Smelt the ore you find there;
refine it.

In the stillness of the forge
every spark is a star.
I wish for you to find this place.
You will need it for every new
form you take.

I remember you.
#remember #form
52 · Aug 2020
no good, no end in sight
Laokos Aug 2020
i'm no good, but
here I am anyway,
again
typing words
into poems.

i'm afraid that
all this is
a waste of time.
that I read some
poetry somewhere
long ago and
mistakenly believed
that I too could
do that.

but I can't
help it,
these words still
show up
somehow.

even
when they
don't end
well.
37 · Feb 19
frozen blood glacier
Laokos Feb 19
bathed in a beam of distant light, i'm
dangling from the mouth of
the sun today. it won't come like
Fante. it won't come like Bukowski.
it won't come at all. it's rusted
chunked blood calving off from
graveled glaciers onto dead sea beds.
it's a joke, it's far away, it's not
meant for me. and so it seems...yet
there still exists a tiny heart somewhere
under all that pumping away almost
imperceptibly.  funneling what blood
is there to send life to these
fingertips. i don't know if it will
ever reach the page though. odds
are good that death will take me
before those veins reach any words
with weight.
but in the writing they have a
chance to stretch and feel and
find their way through the
labyrinth of time and being
human. they have a chance to
beat the odds. a trickle becomes
a stream. a stream becomes a
river. and a river becomes an
ocean. these dead seas will fill
once more whether i am: the glacier,
the trickle, the stream or the
river. my blood runs to that future
ocean...one way or another.
frozen blood glacier dead sea veins labyrinth human odds ocean
26 · 1d
Nietzsche niche
Laokos 1d
i'll raise an electric fence around
the gods up there
in mountains and ivory towers
and they'll all wear shock collars
too

i'll spread peanut butter on bread
and send it to them through
the mail

i'll write them letters from the
lower world saying that 'time
really isn't a bother anymore
because apples rot in home
baked pies down here'

i'll reach through my own
tainted build up of corrosive
discharge and pull a petal
from the flower of life
to eat in front of
them with a coffee toothed smile

i'll throw weeds over
palisades into
groomed gardens

i'll **** on the flaming sword
spinning like i do
outside
heavenly gates

i'll put AA batteries on
my ******* and force
feed the north star
until it bursts

i'll stain the glass in windows
extolling failures and shining
blunders under vaulted
ceilings

i'll be nothing less than
the imperfect son of
an imperfect man and
an imperfect
woman--

human
all too human
after all

— The End —