Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 May 31
Rob Rutledge
The wasteland looks like eden
After a long and tortured road.
We were promised no such land
Nor any home that we are owed.
Still we took that beaten path
Knowing well where it may go.

By the gods what fools we be!
Seeing neither haunted forests
Or the weeping, dying trees.
We saw instead clear flowing streams
Ignored the way they slithered,
Withered valley and the rose.
Or how the heart can carve a lily
Into a candle in the snow.
 May 29
Jimmy silker
Keep swiggin that *****
Keep smokin them tabs
**** down deep on them viruses
What get released from them labs
Waft them air fresheners
Modify your food
Keep taking them
Sweet sweet pills
What enhance your mood
E numbers Are the tops
Fresh fruit gets a sprey
Some say they've done something
That has turned the frogs gay
Make sure you sit still
Make sure you char your toast
Let's do the cancer enhancer baby
Yeah we dig it the most.
 May 22
Unpolished Ink
Blood within my skin
liver pluck and lights
appendix to beating heart,
every part, wants you
needs you to know
I am ready for us to begin,
it is only my tongue
a restless useless thing
which cannot tell you so
 May 22
Jimmy silker
I'm eschewing *****
And ***** too
Perhaps a month
Maybe two
It's been a fortnight
Still slightly fuzzy
Jerky sleep patterns
I had it coming
Don't start me on
The whacky dreams
A disaster movie
Each night it seems
Aliens
Zombies
Catastrophes
Volcanos
Earthquakes
Foul disease
And it's all my fault
I caused it all
Uncharacteristic
Prideful
Before the fall

And then the wake.
 May 22
pilgrims
Now! is the time
for those loved least
A howl!
assembles the spooks, kooks, and beasts

An autumnal lense looks
at cracks between light
Be brave! Embrace inspired fright
Reach into the shadow
and we just might make friends
with the spectre called Life

We are alive! Let's celebrate this
divergent experience we co-create
Pretend this came out around October.
Laughter on fire starts.
I promise broken hearts.
Dance naked in the dark
******* in our Eden Park.
Acid tripped to Erie Lake
Wedding a pathetic fake.
 May 11
Qualyxian Quest
I'm a troubled soul
Disability
Worried in the night
O Life! Protect my 3

No one important
I sense the cosmic sea
Un pequito Chicago snow
In Dublin meant to be

                    Quietly
 May 10
rick
“I look at you,” he told me, “and I think to myself; now here’s a guy whose got it all: he’s over fed, has a nice watch on his wrist and his shoes, although not my style, are brand new. The only thing he doesn’t have are troubles and worries.”

“bartender,” I shouted, “I’ll take one more and the tab.”

“hey man what about me,” he asked, “mind topping me off?”

“and another one for the poor sap next to me.”

“you see what I mean,” he continued. “you can afford to buy drinks for yourself and for others. as for myself, they forced me into a war I didn’t support and I also got my *** shot off for a cause unknown. I was stripped of my emotions, gutted from my life, they sodomized my psyche, carved the dream out of my head and I was never given a chance at having children or a future. and all this happened before I ever held a beer or tasted a cigarette or had a woman in my bed.”

I didn’t bother responding
in hopes that he’d get the hint
but as expected, he was as
clueless as my ex-wife
and as he carried on
with relentless persistency
each word dug in like a cat scratch
and all I could do was clench my glass tighter and tighter to contain myself.

“I’ve been spit on, kicked out, beat up and let down,” he further continued. “the streets are hard and unkind and everywhere you go you’re unwanted and everything is locked. why do you think I pour into these bars late at night? to drink? naw man, I just need a place to go, a roof over my head you know?”

that was it.
I had enough.

I finished my drink,
got off the stool
and headed toward the exit.

“hey buddy,” he shouted, “can I get another one for the road?”

“no.”

“just one more?”

“NO!” I screamed.

“c’mon man, you’ve got everything and I’ve got nothing. what makes you better than anyone else?”

“now look here you bumbling idiot…”

“but…but…but…” he interrupted.

“I’ve heard your tales of woe and now you’re going to listen to me,” I said sternly. “I look overfed because of poor diet and lack of exercise caused by working 60-80 hours a week with no time to take care of myself. I have a nice watch and new shoes but it came with a price. I’ve traded in my freedom for comfort, my time for materials and any chance of love for success. you say I have everything and you have nothing? I say you’re wrong. you’ve got something I no longer possess and that my friend is soul. don’t lose that. don’t buy into the mold. don’t conform. don’t become like everyone else. most of the people you see in here have imprisoned themselves into their own personal hell. that’s the way society wants it. but you’re free. truly free. and another thing… don’t worry about sorrow. everyone’s got problems and nobody wants to hear about it. why do you think people are in here? for the enjoyment? no, there here to forget. just. like. you.”

“******* *******! I don’t need a lecture from you or your cheap advice. all I need is a ******* drink!”

…and with that,
I walked out into the
dark and empty streets
where they greeted me
with their silence.
Happened a long time ago, in a bar, somewhere down in New Orleans.
 May 8
Evan Stephens
I arrived at six for an early start,
only to find that a cloud had coughed,

spat, or birthed a fog onto the lawn,
midwifed by polearms of corn

under silver doctor's eyes
of cooling car. Beer tabs snicked

away as a giant cheerful beast
slouched and stalked us

with candy heart and whetted tooth,
snapping at pipe smoke enemies,

patrolling our hands with hope.
Lives roll along, we all find:

men and women having a hard go
of it in hornet houses, or exes

who tent us with doubt even now.
The fog has burned away and the lawless

calligraphy of insects weaves and wreathes
the rising air into which exits are engraved.

Time enough to slide the highways
back into the busy hours

of porcelain hearts - easily chipped
but good enough still for daily use.
 May 8
nivek
photographs of the dead
hammered into memory

flashes of imortalised moments
of all those who died young

as you get older and haunted
remembering to stay childlike.
Next page