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Jul 2019 · 327
canopy
B E Cults Jul 2019
The wretched treachery of the flesh
is a sip of nectarine tea in the shade of a willow,
a reoccuring dream,
a for sale sign in front of a derelict funeral parlor.

Inroads to wisdom
are just slopes to slip off of,
off into open air to elope with
unknowing; the oldest whirlwind ever to be tricked into a jar.

Really it’s all just counting stars like heartbeats
and then taking them for granted.

Im sorry for that ****.
Jun 2019 · 137
couch
B E Cults Jun 2019
When people say “safe as houses”
all I can think about are flames.

I curry favor with my devils
on a daily basis so excuse me
if I think escape is futile.

When people say “amen”
all I can think about is the first time
I saw City of God.

My worries vaporize in the face
of my apathy and I feel you should
know these things only because
you’ve read this far.

I love you.

Thank you.
May 2019 · 1.3k
frame
B E Cults May 2019
I could waste anything if "anything"
were made to fall like seconds
from a clock face.

"Perspective" was scribbled
on the title page of the tattered
copy of The Merchant of Venice
I found in jail.

It collects dust on my shelf now.

More seconds.
May 2019 · 159
regent
B E Cults May 2019
am i supposed to split my skull
on the white marble of your
throne room while you pretend
you hide how heavy your
fantasy sits shining on your head?
Apr 2019 · 211
go
B E Cults Apr 2019
go
poems are not the maw
but the drool dripping
from it onto a "same old, same old"
protagonist realizing their fate
as they tremble trying to keep
the alien jaws at bay.

what should i do with that intel?

spin wheels with friends killed
in the fantasies they awoke in?!

im spent still with a grin in the
"you mad at me?' ocean.

oh **** is a cloak,
hope is a dagger in the back.

at least the ghost will be potent, right?
Apr 2019 · 171
something
B E Cults Apr 2019
pigment clashes with pigment
and I, the lazy tyrant, try to pull
a crown from their oblivion.

you asked.
B E Cults Apr 2019
wading through fields drowned in blood

i listen to the sound of my pounding heart

dissolve into the carrion-song

of the ravens

while you shimmer in the glow

of my absence sipping dandelion wine

from divinity itself.



do the gods love you for it

as much as i?



**** them.

it doesn't matter.



their might will be mud

and they will choose oracles

from flowers reaching for indifferent sky

in a future far beyond the reach of

their miasmic mythologies

while you smile at me behind the same glass

of wine.



again, **** them.
B E Cults Mar 2019
My protean soul transmogrified
on the altar of your heart;
what am I now?

I've watched homes construct
themselves from our past incarnations
and burn to ash in the same rainy afternoon.

You are forever unchanging.
You are change, forever.

They are the same;
the maelstrom I would smile and sing "Come Fly With Me"
to as it ripped the nuclei of my atoms from the electron clouds that obscure them.

I am static on the television that almost sounds like Sinatra;
a murmuration of starlings unaware
of the beauty in their intricacy.

Our gestation was cut short;
the television caught fire
and the starlings lay broken on an elementary school playground.

You, to me, are the silence that
replaced the staticky Sinatra or the wailing
children that find the murmuring ceased for good
by the monkey bars and plastic slides.

You are the reason for my loss of faith
in the words gorgeous, stubborn, and coincidence.

I am contented for the moment by just knowing I breathe the same air as
the flesh straining to contain you.
B E Cults Mar 2019
With the your naked form resonating
in my memory and the taste of you
still on my tongue, I could plunge
into the darkest of pits and smith
flaming swords from any excrement.

You never left me and I will forever die at your feet, smiling.

So, can we dance?
Mar 2019 · 333
dead birds dead
B E Cults Mar 2019
treasure leapt from an ocean
i've never tasted on the air.

surrendering.

dirges meant to be learned backwards
shuffle on into the dark unknown.

we ask worlds to spin on our tongues.

we are always unfulfilled.

we hate the word "we".

we use despair as a currency.

we are disgusting.

do you remember those dirges?

I do.
Feb 2019 · 3.1k
Manifesto of the Not-Gods
B E Cults Feb 2019
We, the invisible reasons for your problems, blind ourselves to the
dismal inevitability that we will
suffocate because you refuse to stop
the pillaging of the future for the sake of your own ******* lineage being able to further itself and potentially give you a chance to again close your mind and scream as loud as you can when confronted with your own toxicity

We, the ones who humbly take the bludgeoning from your self-proclaimed pious hand, know these chains are only on your bleeding wrists and ankles.

We, the silent and the broken, know Santa Muerta by the nicknames she had in college and all accompanying wildness she brought in her wake.
We still will stroke your hair while you
throw your tantrums and wail about what is and isn't fair on your deathbeds.

We will burn the mattress and all while cheering you on on your flight into the night sky you ignored for a lifetime.

We, the servants of streaming digits and stewards of bottled stardust, will create stories about how it wasn't your fault and how you shouldn't be hated for bringing the world crashing into the excrement of wasted potential so our children know there was a choice to be made.

We, the overly polite pariahs pry laughs and love and lust and learning from looming catastrophe like Burroughs writing Naked Lunch with a glassy eyed stare that burned holes in the veil hiding the tide of partially coagulated blood and ******* that YOUR world preached as milk and honey.

We, the proof in the moldy pudding still finding time to rot, will burn tobacco fields in your honor just to dance while getting drunk on the breaths you'll never waste.

We, the lovers of questions and haters of creeds, let tears stream in the hope that they are not considered part of our body's 75 percent while fantasizing about your ghosts seeing them and the dehydration they may be in spite of and quiet your tired old yelling and shaking of fists at the clouds when overcome by the slight sadness that whispers "its too late" lovingly into your ear.

We, the lovers, the thieves, the reviled, the *******, the witches, the junkies, the ******, the reptiles and worms under the rocks society deems unusable and misshapen, will be the ones lifting the crowns off your corpses and throwing them high as graduates do when full of a hope only ever dashed by themselves.

We, the drooling monsters you vehemently deny anything besides the cramped closets or the space between bed and floor in childhood bedrooms, will be the Valkyries to descend onto the blood-choked battlefield you set aside for your souls to suffer on and offer you respite in the form of soggy bread and wildflower honey while  ravens and jackdaws bicker over the eyes and fingers of those that once showed us how to ride a bike or drunkenly beat us beneath our favorite trees or touched us in dark rooms in ways that would chase Love away from the shadow of our hearts until we finally climbed high enough to see it all as someone screaming of war and bravery while running from the sound of steel biting steal because their protectors talked so highly of honor and duty that it seemed as if it were God and Adam touching fingertips on the arched ceilings of youth. that, then was painted on the crumbling walls of abandoned houses they would secretly indulge on the forbidden fruit soaking pages of a faded **** magazines or up skirts of blushing  girls who put on their mother's prudishness until fingers pushed past
cotton and virtue alike to the warm center they both melted in.

We, the unsung and numb, walk in spirals while the complexity you rebuked as devil-born becomes the sigils of yet-to-be kingdoms bringing about golden age after golden age in the distant mists rolling over hills and valleys of memories of moments yet to coalesce into rigid experience.

We, the eyes weeping blood atop crumbling pyramids, have seen the walls you want to build in futures dissolved in the winds blowing dust over the dream-roads we skip down and how it resembles the one you built to keep your heart from breaking from the pressing mass of what you can't file away as noise or heresy or communist propaganda;
We drew throbbing ***** and dripping ***** on all the blueprints we came across and tucked them back into the secret compartments of wardrobes and roll-tops passed down through generations.

We, the keepers of the singing stones you traded for cheap concrete, will embrace the tiny souls you neglected out of ignorance to the existential snake oil pitch you broke every tooth biting down on all because the salesman reminded you of your drunk father or mother imposing their wills like you make shadow puppets dance on peeling wallpaper in the silence that ensued after they had passed out on creaky couches reeking of Lucky Strikes and spilled ***** while the shine of the staticky T.V. set covered them like the blanket no one ever put over their slumbering forms because of those infinite lists of excuses used to skirt the skirmishes of showing any kind compassion even if they alone were sole witness to it.

We, the pieces of self the deathbed "you" sent hurtling backwards through time to shine lights on the siege seething at the gates of what you stand for, are only holding those lanterns to show you that fleeing is futile and your death is just a hallway with a door that leads to the knowledge that life is not a cell to watch time morph into tally lines scratched into cold stone as if they were epitaphs for the seconds bet and lost at the roulette table crafted from any slave ship the ocean never swallowed.

We, the flames mimicking those dancing girls you longed to have squeal under the idea of your thrusting masculinity amidst the graffiti on the bathroom stalls in seedy dive-bars or the paupers playing prince you follow giggling with hope in hand like a bouquet of baby's breath and daisies for that one day they would stop and turn and smile so handsomely that your knees would shatter against one another and wedding chapels would bend down to tie tin cans to bumpers of beat up Buicks and Oldsmobiles your fathers give dowry and the crowd could watch "just married" poorly written in shaving cream on the back window grow small until it disappeared over the horizon.

We, the dreamers, are tired of sleeping and are in need of a old tree to swing from, to bury our dreams like beloved pets under, and watch as it lets its leaves fall to the hungry earth that is more patient then anyone closed eyed and humming ancient syllables beneath crooked branches could ever be.

All the trees you climbed and kicked and fell in love under have died from too many hearts around intials being carved into them or were used to make fascist pamphlets you yourself passed out at churchs mistaking the mask with bone structure or the river for the people it swept to sea.

We are laughing;
like a loving mother at her clumsiness on display in her cackling child and not like the crowds gazing at the sideshow stage as the curtains pull back and stage lights illuminating John Merrick's flesh and the intricate dissonance it lent to minds.
Minds that afforded only sips of bliss as monotonous stints on factory floors but were preached about like they were some heaven-sent golden cobblestones laid lovingly all the way
to the beach where Heimdall will one day sound his horn, one foot feeling the grit of the edge of the world and the other washed clean for the grave we will all step in.

So, all these words, all these images, all of it is intended to be a moon so all the stagnate tide pools that have forgotten their origin and the freedom they used to give form to lesser forms they forage forgetfulness from.

We, the ones beneath you on the climb to the summit of our collective potential, beg you to think of something beside yourself when taking a ****.

It is not just ******* in the wind if there isnt wind and we are right below you and dying of thirst.

It is not an inalienable right if someone else is deprived of the same.

It is not Heaven's gate if the brilliant gild has a melting point or if it remains latched to any soul's approach.

It is not "liberal *******" or a myth if whole flocks of birds fall from the sky or schools of fish wash up on beaches while people snap photographs for their feed.

It is not "god" if love dispels it like smoke hanging in the kitchens your great grandmother sat in and told you about a witch shapeshifting into dogs without heads to scare drunks stumbling home because she was a ******* racist.

It is not just food if someone's organs fail from starvation that even the worms and flies are free from.

You wave your banners and let your war-horns echo and you wear your ignorance as armor.

We, the eaters of life and death, will chisel a name into stone and pick your bones clean if you think we should march to the sounds of drums and trumpets just because you were stupid enough to think it was anything other than your masters convincing you to whip yourselves ****** because "at least God hath been kind enough to give you a purpose" or "he works in mysterious ways".

**** that.

Look at what it has brought out of the swirling sea of " all that could be" while you write the same song about how shiny and numerous the scales of the prize are.

We are not responsible for pillaging God's bounty.

We are the bounty and our emptiness and lack of foresight are in jeweled bowls at your feet, but in your hubris you believe it to be the slaves that come to wash the dirt from between your toes.

We are Death and She is the wet-nurse that will give us intimacy to fertilize our hearts by refusing us her breast but turning our heads to your silhouettes shambling off the edge of existence far off in the distance only a decade or less could be confused for.

[AS ONE VOICE WE SING/SANG/HOWL:
Lux amor potentia restituant propositum dei in terris.]

As if it were as easy as holding the hand of a dying tyrant afraid they cannot the luminous terminus while wearing your father's face as a mask to trick radiant angels or the contortions of gods reeking of struck matches by those trembling and their swirling black hearts closed to the breeze carrying leaves celebrating their liberation and caressing a cheek they were too ashamed to kiss when opportunity was their ally.

We shouldn't hate these piles of skulls all parroting the same axioms to those who only show up to add another or leave an empty bottle turned into a candle holder, wax dripped down the neck and froze before any trace of tallow could finally unite with the dirt it longs to become one with;
icicles hanging from the eaves of abandoned asylums.

This place was supposed to be alot of things but that is what lead THEM to drown in the sound of buzzing bees, birdsong, and abundance in all directions.

I suggest we stop trying to squeeze it into a shoebox we scribbled Promised Land on and just let it be the open armed paradise it inherently is.
Let it be the heart and home as well as the hostile territory because it is only ever that and what we wont find in any Oracle's Prophecy.

I'll end my rambling with a question and it's answer.

How do you turn a police station into a hospital and a schoolhouse?

Burn it to the ******* ground.
This is me pushing sentences to the max. Sentences that just shamble on through the space they themselves create.
Monks and magick practitioners use trance states to penetrate deeper.
I stretch these sentences which stretch your conscious mind's attention span well past being interested letting my imagery embed itself somewhere you'll realize is there farther down the ro
B E Cults Feb 2019
You can't even let a poem exist.

You say I have the entitlement issue...
B E Cults Feb 2019
the stray black lab that ran
around with a friend and I
was ******* fearless.

he was one of us.

one night he chased a football
into the street, directly
into the path of a speeding black
jeep and ended up broken and howling in a way
I still hear sometimes.

He was even more one of us then.

It has been three years since
the night I died.
Three years since *******
myself on the bathroom floor
while the girl i loved stepped out
to buy some smokes.

death didn't have a sound,
but it still echoes through
me.

we never named the dog.
Feb 2019 · 96
Holding your hand
B E Cults Feb 2019
I am of the mind that art should never stoop to our level but we should always rise to it's.

The low-hanging fruit is our lives.

Never drag your art down into the mud where it can be trampled and unseen by the seething masses.

This is why I will never connect dots for you. I want you to fill in the space between my words with whatever you choose.

I will never hold your hand.
I will never love you.
Jan 2019 · 117
Feathers (black)
B E Cults Jan 2019
If you were to only see
the light from the flames dancing
on my face could you believe it was yours and feel unmoored for awhile?

More meaningless questions
to explore.

Undone or undoing?
In the sky or at the movies?

Kith and kin.

Ghosts.

Wind and windows.

Smoke.

Did slipping show us when to
slide?
Did mystery steer the misery to rhyme?
Did Odin limp after?

Meaningless questions.
Jan 2019 · 219
You, pieces
B E Cults Jan 2019
Truth is, I have only caught tiny glimpses of her.
Only pieces.

Perfume on the wind.

Silence always reaching.

"Set adrift by that woman's ..." is now a dead horse that in no way could still be called a horse much less beaten;
the flies play their ancient dirge in reverence and I see Her by an old Ash.

I wave.

We're screaming.

Silence.

Perfume on the wind.

Next time, maybe.
Jan 2019 · 92
Divide
B E Cults Jan 2019
I'm torn between hoping you smile when you read these and wanting to laugh at the thought of you limiting me so much that you believe they are about you.
Jan 2019 · 616
Suspension
B E Cults Jan 2019
In the midst of all of this dismantling
itself into it's revolting component honesty, I try to remember the way
your arousal changed the hue of the space around you.

Memory or fantasy or dream
or lie or ecstatic state; bottles filled with coloured sand and then sealed up into boxes left by the street.

If only someone could sculpt the dance we do between the moments
of a waking life crystallizing into grotesque simplifications rattling chains in the labrynth we build for loneliness.

I try to chisel some aspect of it into wind and rain.

I try to pick out your breathing
among the howling infinity outside and my edges are reasserted by the glare of life's shadow.

My name is that of any pile of bones ever to have a candal held for it.

My path is undetermined, unfettered from the seething potential beneath all things.

Explode with me.

We can paint the crumbling walls of our illusory disconnection like a drunken Michaelangelo laughing at the absurdity he is a part of.

**** rules, style, message, time, space, words.

**** it all.

Just go mad.
Jan 2019 · 375
Form (sly grin)
B E Cults Jan 2019
I'll take all of those terrifyingly gorgeous photographs of you
just to cut them into pieces
and use them like paint.

That is me pulling your visage
down from the heights only
to confuse it with the dirt.

It is also me showing you that
the pervasiveness of your form
is never lost on me.

Every particle, entangled.

I don't need to see you.

You will make a science of yourself
before me and I will ask,
"why?"

I drew your viscera by candlelight
before I ever watched you avert
your eyes from mine.

I wept while shrines built in your name were pulled to the earth, your disciples chanting as they bloomed black into the hungry sky.

Every particle, entangled.

"Seen" is a stupid term.

Although I am still seemingly
bound to it's use because of
every single one of you.
Jan 2019 · 184
Prop
B E Cults Jan 2019
All is absurd.

"Up to Olympus from the wide-spread earth"

I keep meeting oceans that only want to be the same lake of fire.

I is a lie that was fabricated by no one.

How does anyone catch a glimpse
and not melt into their own laps?

See?

Absurd.
Jan 2019 · 273
Splatter
B E Cults Jan 2019
Finding myself in paper warped
by the ink from a stolen pen.

I lose it again in the lonely
void of smoke filled rooms.

Our need for a better vernacular
is a cup of tea sipped by our ghosts,
somewhere.
Jan 2019 · 84
Untitled
B E Cults Jan 2019
Evoking an old ghost from smoke on the night of a new moon,
curses written in perfect cursive
by the light of my gloom's doom.

I'm purification.
I'm uselessly aloof
but in full-bloom in the basement
where your mutiny is reduced
to a tomb for the nameless.

I am not that dope in the spoon.

Anymore.
Dec 2018 · 109
Untitled
B E Cults Dec 2018
this is what happened when
i sat down to write something.

an aimless stroll through the
crooked halls of memory while my
pen drips potential onto the page;
a homeless man, drunk and starving,
singing hymns in an abandoned
mall food court.

why do i do this to us?
B E Cults Dec 2018
she takes a pull of
her Parliament,
face painted in
in fleeting ochre;
an ancient star dying
far from me.

"i was alive once and i swore
i glimpsed the storm in
the laughter
"

we write each other's names
on our palms and lovingly watch
the ink fade as we drink from
them.

that was the plan.
plans end the same as the rest of it;
vestigial and resentful in their silence.

you said your grin was
that of a misfit.
i said your grin lent
dimensions the intent
to rip open.
i meant it,
but i said it just to see it.

"...reasons. things can have many..."

stealing smoke from a Parliament,
that old foolish ochre
skirmishes with night,
i remember that i'll remember the hospice stint intimacy fondly
when i splinter infinitely through dimensional rifts in that moment
you howled at the moon with the
earth dangling from your neck.

"the wild hunt was a horrible
film, but it was our horrible film
"

you didn't even notice me
dissolving into the monolith
and i admire the honesty of that.

we can speculate about what the
next life's masks conceal when
we get there.
smokingkills
Dec 2018 · 165
40 minutes
B E Cults Dec 2018
today, i found mana in the corner
of a coffee shop and shared it
with your ghost.
B E Cults Dec 2018
leaving is relative.
"you"is just a view of an elephant
up close.
melt a bit,
then tell the splitting
elegance you'll help it
blend back into the hues
you've given different
pet names to.

headspace.
moon.
deadweight.
truth.
a ruse?
a route?
a mutiny?
a few ravens loot putrification
of any useable patience
in the pay-to-play waiting game.

get over it
or get some beauty sleep.
Dec 2018 · 1.4k
all dark but the parlour
B E Cults Dec 2018
what we fear as death is just
decor.
victorian, french country, industrial,
rustic;
doesn't matter.
the bones are the same.
some people expire smiling in
neon pink plastic lawnchairs
or pierce the veil ******* themselves on dove-grey french provincial settees from the 18th century.

we have numbed ourselves in our
endless pursuit of complexity;
walked off the precipice of that
final ecstatic unraveling
while wide-eyed and trembling
at the sight of aesthetics,
as cheap as they are fleeting.

we must garder à l'esprit that it all burns to ash, singular in characteristic, that is scattered by winds indifferent to any distinguishable feature in the
many beliefs twisted into the teeth
of sleeping behemoths dreaming of feasts they had yet to awaken to.

it, what we fear, is shapeless.
the absence of all accumulated
delusion, confusion, or fluid lucidity.
ancient.
a non-locality that is the total
sum of the All collapsing in on
it's most basic components
also collapsing in on...elsewhere?

i'm done.
please, come and sit.

tell me how you like your tea?
Nov 2018 · 193
crib
B E Cults Nov 2018
poetry does not have to be
about love.
in fact, you punch-drunk bleeding heart sap-seekers
smother it like mothers driven to
madness,
pillows in your grasp.

my opinion.

let it be, breathe, dream, or feast upon
whatever it lunges at in the black night unraveling behind the eyes
of any who try lighting fires
for others to write by or cry to
or hide in.

for ***** sake, love that if you
must pry love from something.

just put the ******* pillows down.
B E Cults Nov 2018
it is all dead here;
the birds sing bones awake.
slow is the air
when the sky sleeps.
a fringe to hunger for
when the center dims
all glowing notes
is all we feed hope for.

escaping fangs lazily is
just wraiths scraping ancient
havens clean and leaving.

same old shape-changing...

see the bowl?
see the ocher?
this is us silently slumming
through the rush of present
flesh and far-flung mind;
derelict awareness shared
sparingly.

it's all love though.
Nov 2018 · 85
Spin
B E Cults Nov 2018
She has me spun around;
nothing but this comes to
the page.

I'm ok with it though.
Nov 2018 · 629
bastion
B E Cults Nov 2018
tin can transmissions
sent and listened to by entangled  
heartstrings long before
the birthday-balloon-blooming-doomsday-dance-off was
standardized as the answer
to any and all questions
regarding the textured pressure
of her breath blessing my forehead;
a vesper my wretched flesh is desperately stretching towards.

(i know, i know.)

this is a test of will.

(i said i...)

this is that mad dash
into the ashen catacombs
to slash the throat of the
last cackling basilisk
so passionately it shatters bone
into the rapturous jazz
crafted with cracked saxophones,
maps the fastest route
to her faceted fathoms
reconstituting past afternoons
in which i was never fortunate
enough to touch the gravity of her
napping naked beside me.

this has always happened
after a collapsing hasn't-yet
and it's enticing.
Nov 2018 · 107
one stop
B E Cults Nov 2018
a zygote to high hopes
splattered on streets
that lead to Zion;
a new day to pay for
if you got it like that.

america dreams in 4k
and all we have is an
old CRT with rabbit ears.

the revolution will be
printed on recycled
paper and handed out
in the grocery section
of wal-mart.

digital and analog
and minerals and masks.

all is comedy and we don't
laugh anymore.
Nov 2018 · 106
wait for it(thanks henson)
B E Cults Nov 2018
after all these years of spitting
blood and laughing until it feels
as though ribs have cracked,
there is one fact that never
changes.

one note that persists after
the curtains stop swaying
and the audience has gone home.

one line that seems as though
it is etched into the bedrock
of everything.

it has haunted me throughout
my life, only because i
misunderstood it's attempts
at relaying it's
message through slamming doors
and creaking floorboards.

i've come to know it as grace;
a gentle touch of my face
by someone who loves me more
than i could love anything.

it is that it's not easy being green
and it never will be.
got em
Nov 2018 · 190
disparate
B E Cults Nov 2018
i grow weary of watching
the world sharpen it's teeth
with a rusty file
and trying to smile
at the same time.

who would want to measure
raindrops in a thunderstorm
when you could just feel them
hit your face?

exit stage left when you
want to stretch a minute
into infinity.

that advice came from a ghost
of a man and cost me a cigarette
and a can of Modelo.

worth is relative, i hear.
B E Cults Nov 2018
reading what you write
sometimes gives me the
feeling of watching a
low budget **** film,
with a royalty-free excuse
to let a wah-wah pedal
accompany the wet
absence of passion.

      (a wildfire in a glass box
        or Kali candystriping in the
          cancer ward.)

you cannot expect  
spines to tingle when
you refuse to acknowledge  
the deepening abyss in the
facets of self you wear
like hospital gowns.

sometimes i see the naked
singularity hidden behind
your "this is me" event-horizon
and i bathe in it's impossibility;
i could drown in it's defiance, smiling,
if only you could learn to...
Nov 2018 · 211
Spoons
B E Cults Nov 2018
we know the world from
what we see on the back
of a tarnished silver spoon.

you could make an art out
of the polish, seeking the perfect
patina, judging the skill
of others; that grotesque collective gaucherie.

I say drop it in the dirt
and walk off into that
whirlwind of unsullied
strangeness swirling
behind the perspectives
we value so much.

do what you want.
it is in your hands.
literally.
Nov 2018 · 313
uuummm
B E Cults Nov 2018
alacrity has always eluded
me; always the dumbstruck
drunk stumbling through
the realization that his revelry
is past it's shelf life
and immediately forgetting
what it felt like.

displaced perpetual.

still, i write love songs to
the hum of an empty fridge
for no-one in particular;
call it a romance or
call it pathetic.

i couldn't care if i wanted to.

even the sun becomes a myth
to anyone who stares
at it long enough.

so i'm ok with it.
all of it.

at least, that is what i tell myself
over and over until even
the love songs stop
spilling.
Nov 2018 · 1.2k
Untitled
B E Cults Nov 2018
your smiles taste funny.

the taste lingers and makes
me think of the way **** smells
in a pipe
or how seeing a dead animal on the road
for more than one day makes you
look at the established order as a stranger.

it probably has everything to do with perspective...
Nov 2018 · 108
some ink(was)
B E Cults Nov 2018
oracular inversion...
she is alone in her head
my lonely eats the same bread

***** on the carpet
Nov 2018 · 183
To Michael Cera
B E Cults Nov 2018
the things you write
are so sappy.

that is not to say I do not
mind drowning in their
stickiness.

you should leave them in the sun
and see what happens.

remember when you played
that role in that one movie
about the end of the world?

that is how I feel when I
stay up drinking and reading
poetry by people who I will
never meet.

call it what you want.

I'll be reading in the
poetry section.
this is by no means a critique of this man's poetry. it is good. really ******* good. this is just the ramblings of drunk magician without a stage...
Nov 2018 · 137
table(early evening)
B E Cults Nov 2018
what about these broken bones
sings of love?

what about me sipping my coffee
slowly whispers anything?

you practice being starry eyed
in the mirror.
I sleep until noon.

there are oceans between us.
Nov 2018 · 101
Untitled
B E Cults Nov 2018
these kids are talking about
guns because they have no
control over their own lives.

slaves to every change in wind direction.

they will definitely shoot you.
Nov 2018 · 403
oh well
B E Cults Nov 2018
we will not wake up one day
with all the answers
written on the back
of a map of the labyrinth.

we just turn corners.

we will end up keeping to the
parts that we've painted houses on
and calling it sacrifice;
if only god were pulled from
smoke so easily.

have you judged this yet?
does it make the grade?

my ego sure hopes so.

he is the type to leave
apples on your desk.
he is also afraid
of the naked horror of
everything clawing
at the foot of his
deathbed,
my ego that is.

the truth,
mud is just a word for something, ravens do not call themselves
ravens, and a fire can blacken the sky.

it is all just a joke though.

has that gavel swung yet?
have the numbers been crunched?

you should put it into
poetry.
create a philosopher's stone
and force feed it to someone you
love.

please.
i need it.
Nov 2018 · 245
real quick
B E Cults Nov 2018
have I fumbled and dropped the chainsaws enough for you to
feel anything?
Nov 2018 · 92
"in my day"
B E Cults Nov 2018
our lives are house fires
darkening the sky.

we are told we are lazy
by those who handed
us a plastic water pistol to put them out.

they also poured the gasoline and struck the match.

so let's dance, mad and wild,
into the night until only embers remain.
we can cook our breakfast
with what is left of the kitchen.
Nov 2018 · 143
morning(that was then)
B E Cults Nov 2018
in your light i feel small,
fragile,
gossamer struggling with
the morning dew.
each bead is a word i almost
choke on,
reflecting tiny sky,
reflecting you.

where are the spiders that
spun me?
where are the gods that
molded you?

i couldn't care less if those
questions ever get answers.
Nov 2018 · 116
way
B E Cults Nov 2018
way
this path was meant
to be walked alone
and i have accepted
that now.

the birds don't sing for me,
but i delight even more
in the melodies because of it.
Nov 2018 · 149
...
B E Cults Nov 2018
...
not a soul can save the ocean
from drowning.

stop hoping.
Nov 2018 · 125
petal
B E Cults Nov 2018
gather your lilies and I'll hang them
from my exposed ribs;
I've always been good at ruining
the beautiful that blooms
because of you.

it's never too late to run.
it's better too scrape the husk
of connection than dream up
a wreckage forever sinking.

dried flowers makes the smell of rot
remind me of the morning sun
bringing out the red in your hair.

it's never too late to run.
it's better to taste the blood
than forget that it's there at all.

f#@€ that.

it's never too late to plunge
headfirst into the acceptance
of the failures of the head
when heart was what we needed.

gather your lilies and we'll hang them
in the windows in our memories
to remind us of the bigger picture
when rain clouds roll in.

it's never too late to love
what we hated once.
Nov 2018 · 1.5k
The heavier the crown...
B E Cults Nov 2018
On a scale of 1 to Lord of All,
how important is your
opinion of what others create?

I see you, through these sigils,
pretending every breath you took
is a doctorate.

Did you know you dont have to choose between being the brush or the brush stroke?
You could build boats,
hunt ghosts with broken radios,
climb mountains to commune with the dead,
stare at the stars and make
your own constellations,
or play ukulele alone with a head full of acid.

All I am saying is
there are far better plotlines
than playing sovereign king of the
swamp that swallows you
and believing it be noble.
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