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Owen Alasdor Jul 2016
no.
are poets real?
no.

is poetry religious?
yes.
is poetry real?
no.
Owen Alasdor Jul 2016
Sitting in a lonely apartment
I found myself smitten with fear.
For I was just an empty dreamer.
With nothing but the vast world left unclear.

With my mind drifting, a vision was sent.
Promising me never to meander again.
So surreal I can only dream to understand
Just how I found her.

I’ll always be her dreamer, for that I’m hell bent.
Just give me the command
And I’ll never fear again.
For you’ll walk with me, just us hand in hand.
Owen Alasdor Jul 2016
An inebriated form of affection
, Adornment
, Obsession
No, not obsession

Euphoric admiration
, Belonging
, Destined
Yes, destined

This destined affection
Collides on precisely given moments
When not even planned

A call to arms from within
, Inside the belly of the beast
, The ultimate boon
No, not the ultimate boon

This charismatic inflection
between these Fated Fools
once sparked now fade

Yes
, a refusal to return.
Owen Alasdor Jul 2016
Caged like the animal I was
I grew into the monster I wasn’t.
Flashback after flashback
reappeared in my psyche.
Flashback after flashback
I knew I could not take back time.

Billowing blood ran down my face
As I screamed for my innocence
That was far gone and passed away.
I remember it now…
My finger pulled forward with a ferocious roar
And just like an eagle it flew and it soared.
My bullet, his bullet, went straight through the core.

I sit in my gloomy gray cell and think back on my life.
The bright colors of childhood that once painted my mind
Have left and gone leaving just one color,
The color of hell and the new color of my cell.
Owen Alasdor Jul 2016
It makes me think,
the Egyptians were batshit.
Not that they were idiots.
There's always bits of hay
amongst the piles of needles.
Only just
Thinking.
Why did these naked cats
arrive in Egypt?
They look near human
... in the face, that is.
Well,
the alley cats.
The battle worn
society of cats.
Spartans.
The oppression they hail
down upon their unreachable
indoor
targets.
It's all just out of this
                ...
                    realm.
Owen Alasdor Jul 2016
Top off my glass &
Spark my light so that maybe
I can sleep tonight.
Owen Alasdor Jul 2016
Thinking of fear and lust
Grinding away until I’m dust
I believe in a greater good
If only everyone else could.

Thinking of our fears
Mixed with our lust
I remember to rewind my gears
Before my life crumbles to ****.

Believing in a greater good
Call it a higher knowledge
The world breathes beneath our feet
While the clouds still evaporate.
Owen Alasdor Jul 2016
What’s a light beer to a heavy mind?
A reward for accomplishing nothing.

Nothing but the empty glare on the tv
Accomplishing nothing.
no Work, no Labor, no Action

A wasted day.
Sunny.
But wasted.

It all started with a light beer, yesterday.
A reward for an ambitious day.
mostly Work with some Action
and little Labor.

A relaxing day.
Sunny.
But I was wasted.

Now I’m drinking four cold ones.
It’s all I have left, anyway.
Owen Alasdor Jul 2016
The couch holds no cushioning
Any longer.
It’s been tailored for my ***
That sinks into it
Day in and day out

Night after night
I conjure up past works
I try to throw them together
But it doesn’t.

It’s got me going again
Writing and learning
These poetics.
I’m gaining a voice
…. Unflattering
And disorganized
Yet, it is mine.

I’m done with this schooling
It’s time to educate myself.

But it’s easier said than done
While on a couch cushion
Across from a failing flame
Next to a torched bowl.

It’s been my fourth of July
Weekend
A weekend of solitude
With a touch of
These poetics.

I think it’s Thursday now,
or Wednesday.
I’ll be going outside
Blinding my eyes
From light.

Goodbye couch
‘ol buddy
‘ol pal
I’m sure it won’t be long.
Owen Alasdor Nov 2016
“A man naked is a man clothed,” the soothsayer yielded, “but a woman naked is a woman naked.” It was light out; the sun just barely reaching the tops of the mountains. “And that is beauty,” he continued. It seemed noticeable to Idia but as she looked around at the rest of her peoples the obvious seemed to be in the words of the slayer. She smiled upon the sky, glaring at the blooded sun. However, the sun was not the beauty she found in the sky. “It depends on who’s looking,” responded Idia as she looked at the crescent moon resting above the rising sun.
Owen Alasdor Jul 2016
Do not fly into the sun
Or stop the winds from flyin’
Keep your wings afloat, youll see
Your mind will be your guidance.

It’s normal for a boy to grow
And keep within his bounds
Just as it’s normal for a man to
Stay and never listen to a sound.

Sounds of silence uncomfortable within
Nothing like a leap of faith for new ventures to begin.
Torn between what’s old and new,
The ultimate decision that stands all time is just to follow through.
Owen Alasdor Jul 2016
Of three, I’m the oldest sibling.
That makes you entirely more
Than a fun girl.
Much more interesting.

… thanks.
What are you taken aback by?
Because you’re a fun girl?
Or why it is that you are so interesting?

A fun girl.*
Answered.
You’re more interesting because
You are their idol.
Owen Alasdor Jul 2016
Linen white dress &
High heeled shoes
Holding back sweat
While covering tattoos

A serene southern accent
Who’s holding back flight
Only Bells ring in the morning
While Dimes are spent at night

Horse drawn carriages
And happy never endings
Appeal to the unfortunate
While the restless tire of pretending
Owen Alasdor Jul 2016
I’ll slurr my poetikss
I’ll ruin my rhymess
I’ll even diminish Shakesspeeare to be
Achieving what is all thoughtfully mine.
Owen Alasdor Jul 2016
Im lost in thought
Forgotten in time
Endlessly searching
For an idea to arise

Thought after thought
Remembered in my my mind
Forever scribbling
Ideas that are all one of a kind.

Thoughts put to the test
And never allowed in
Once making their statements
Before falling down… again and again

I'm thinking of an answer
For a better outcome
Always thinking
That all these new ideas are dumb.

I'll go with the flow
When I get in the works
Of making a better life
For myself through my work.

Until then ill remain
Looking out a glass window
A window ive painted over
To think of the idea from an hour ago

The only problem is
The glass is quite colorful filling me with dread.
Painted with colors so compelling
That they will never leave my head.

Im lost in thought
Forgotten as a stint
Endlessly searching
For an idea to commit

— The End —