this world spins way too fast
my head turns a little too slow

Slats
planted in the sand

lashed together
with rusty wire

while scraggly reeds peak in out
And up around them

I am there and yet

I never was

Is poetry dead
took its last breath
eating up all it's words
I'm feeling so hurt
poetry is dead
we mourned for days
sounds of sobs heard around the world

we slept in silence
lights on

poetry is dead
hello poetry welcome back to the internet

In quiet nights my grandma cries
We talk of death and people’s eyes
We miss our words, she sees a vein
I ask her, but she’s not in pain

Past the stage of blissful anonymity
He will not acknowledge me
I suppose it means that I am free
These ties are all imaginary
And even though I know it
Chained to him is still where I be
Completely unromantically

Tokyo to Kyoto
Upon the shinkansen
Not really a question of if
More a question of when
Will I too disappear
Like I've never ever been?

The manic state is creative
Like lightning in my mind
O, Ms. Susan Meek!
I wanna travel blind

8 days a week
2 green lights
All that mystical madness
Shiva sets his sights

                  Flights!

Hamlet, sharpen your sword of trust, for Macbeth is surely waiting.

The specter of ‘Civil war’ stalks the land and the ghosts of senseless violence, so long docile, have come to hollow-eyed attention.

Our cauldron was filled with innocence, as the ever-thirsty succubi require, the glory of war is being shaken, not stirred and the betrayal will be served as quick and cold as steel.

#chefskiss