jdotingham Oct 30

(post)death is dogma, either/or.

jdotingham Oct 28

King(dom)cum & hound dog run, a sweet reveal of sexual tension
/..masqueraded by an intermission of pompadour hair & intense dares & gravely vocal chords, shredding his care with rampant tunes of self-proclaimed trouble, from a shy bear. comes out of war better for wear. wear. wear the same outfits which make even vegas' sinful nights stare, and red dwarfs stuffed into streetlights. right? you make the stars jealous of your black and white jailhouse craze. /....King(dom)came. King remains, locked by chains of wavelength and mp3 gains. post-mortem days
illusion of fame and entourage bromance;
king(dom)came. gag my brain. to much-overstimulated rhyme will make me miss the...

(as it flies).

jdotingham Oct 28

My road stumbles on & stumbles on & stumbles on, waiting for a destination absent to come. /... Thefeetstretchas far as the eye can see, as de-ja-vu lines, of bulging blood, echo across roads of beat. .And so it goes. noknow to where. no past will come, no future will have been, so it goes - messed up senses line the street (of my mind, split down the middle by more lines, indulgent lines, morse code upon the floor. a tarmacocean).
smoky rooms/
and so it goes.
coffee glooms/
   a   c  

i am aware of the mixed up pronouns and senses and tenses.
jdotingham Oct 18

a snake went
                  for a
                    walk to
                      ­          sna
  ­                    at b
                      est.                                     ­            ss
                      i cou                                             ss
                        ld ex                                          ss
                  ­         plain                                     ss
                              it better,                           ss
                                but this                       ess
                                  apple has           ame
                                     made my head

jdotingham Oct 18

the hour(s)mash makes time pass,
in a matter quite absurd!
for time cannot
seen at all,
nor can
it flylike
a soaring bird&
some may say it pours
(you know?), but i say that misses the mark! time
descends like sand (it does?), in the hour(s)mashed before dark

jdotingham Oct 3

which hits the ground first:
the lead or the head?

Save me? &
there's a T a P - T a P - T a P-ping at the door;
i wish it was a raven whom quoth nevermore (for nevermore seems to be a lot more adored than what i endured, with more than five whole minutes with sweat dripping from poures)...
instead, it's a |piece| of |metal|
which causes the lead and the head to fall upon the floor^ T a P T a P T a P

bang¿ bang¡ save me? bang¿ bang¡
take!-mybody, but not my soul
take!-mylife: stop me from g r o W I n g old.
save me?
save me?
not at all/
\the innate fear of[never"nevermore"]; as the lead and heads
                     H I T
                     C O L D
                    F L O O R

the body lay upon; wait, it:
                      H I T
                     C O L D
                    F L O O R - 32/origin/2017


{taken souls from paper plates,
taken lives from wisdom days
taken away those velvet dates
self-defence from what they say
taken away from binoculared dreams
taken away from mysterious means
taken away into make belief
seduced by a violent tendency.

it's no one's fault, it's written with words... or so i've heard. it's our right for this bird!
just because.
don't trust anyone, even sugar looks like salt.
but you trust a personified raven with lead coughs of molt-
(countdown from)ten.


when metal spreads like jam
                                                  and when flesh is cut like ham
what a sham. want some more?
bam! bam! bam!
the % screams louder than Beatlemania's crowd, man
context of fear and loading screens of physical machines.
sticks and stones break bones, but faith will only hurt me,
god of death, raven, heck, meth & an uprising of beth! all against the proclaimed defensive offence.

                                                    s­tars&stripes&&splinters&knives&masks of spite&cocked bites&directed strife and crowds disbanded by a sound of...
            nevermore! - the metal raven brings a room alive, before....
age only comes to those who die old, warmth only comes to those cremated toes, rest only comes with the eternal bed -
laws need to entangle the lead fired with thread,

which came first, the raven or the lead?
life or death?

jdotingham Sep 27

where's the romance? where's the mystery> where's the slow dance? and where's the symphony?
it comes... eventually.
i wait for the bus, endlessly. waiting. waiting? waiting! slating the lateness of the bus. so I wait longer. and lloonnggeerr. and lllooonnngggeeerrr.
i didn't realise this is the wrong bus stop. shut on sundays.
so i walk to the other bus, passing the resistance of waiting.
there's the romance! there's the mystery! there's the slow dance! and there's the symphony!
it came. just on time.

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