Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Still and aware now as the energy begins to stir,
my racing thoughts now begin to slur.

Consistent practice has titled me connoisseur.

A silencer.

Free from my past saboteur.

We all "were",
and next step must occur.
 Apr 2017
J Robert Fallon III
Steady pounding upon the bronze sides of hordes of men's helms,
only to realize the impenetrable god's gold is the fate of another realm.

Reincarnation, heaven and hell, 70 virgins, and many more voodoos fritter among as distraction, constructed to insurpassably shadow this pain.

Will the truth be revealed as a nonsensical stalemate?

Can we finally graduate to a more evolved interstate, and gravitate to the knowledge we accumulate over life's days.
 Mar 2017
J Robert Fallon III
28 strings hanging from above, teetering and creaking with each of my steps.

The wood below feels as if sand seeps into my skin, making the next heavier, and heavier.

When did the world decide to become so clever?

The marionette is unnamed although the disease is written clearly across the fogged bathroom mirror.

I avert my eyes from the truth as though I could never decipher.

A slap to the face and a fluid ounce of love is all it took,
two floating hands to fix my gaze upon all I could, my own life book.

I suddenly could hear the willows whipping and dripping wet in the rain outside the brook, I was no longer deaf to the pain I caused and took.

The mental games we play are never far from the outsides the lines of our life's coloring book.

Climb to the tallest line of the page with your grappling hook.

It only takes one outside and unbiased look and the keys to the castle are unhooked.
 Feb 2017
Busbar Dancer
Neither table nor tide has turned.
The worm sits still.
Perhaps autumn will wane forever.
Fate has an ace up her sleeve, I'm sure,
since she's a cheating *****
who won't show her cards
even on the big blinds.
On these long, cold nights
the breath of the devil
Smells like coal-fired power and retail transactions.
Click here for free expedited shipping
if you're willing to breath the diesel fumes
pouring out of the Wilcox Tunnel
like cordite discharge from a gun barrel.
**** it.
I still love ice cold Coca Cola Classic
with its pretty can as red as
the blood of Christ.
 Feb 2017
Busbar Dancer
A block from the office
the city is tearing down an overpass.
Today they're beating the **** out of it
with a pneumatic hammer
the size of a freight train.
Its pounding
in time with my heartbeat
like the worlds largest metronome
suspended from the end of a crane.

Bang – Bang – Bang – Bang

I keep wondering
what’s going to happen
to all those buskers and hookers
who peddle their wares under that bridge.
I'm not seeing it though and
no observation means no poetry.
No poetry means no catharsis, and
my guts are full of hornets.

Bang – Bang – Bang – Bang

It’s the great whisky **** of the spirit,
the all-encompassing lack of passion;
the longing for old friends;
the desire to lean on old habits
the chinks in something resembling old armor.
the crease, the seam, the fold.

Bang – Bang – Bang – Bang

Misfire on eight.
Misfire on eight.
Misfire on eight.
There’s this pain in my head;
behind the left eye
where the secrets live.
driving and grief stricken.
(misfire on eight.)
The headache has no name, but
it sings a song.

Bang – Bang – Bang – Bang
 Feb 2017
Busbar Dancer
The ghosts of old raindrops
mock and scold.
Their scorn writ large
on these dusty roads and in these dusty throats.
To tote the barge but not lift the bail
ain't no kind of protest.
Spit in the well and
hope the master draws up that bucket-full.
Wishes.
Still, the giver of life
serpentines through this valley
like the Euphrates did
in that one book, but
it does not matter
since the scythe swings
in such wide circles
this time of year.
We can bring in sheaves until dusk
then fish for men in the morning but
our souls are still corrupted.
Our hearts are rotten like old pears.
I'm so thirsty.
 Jan 2017
Walter W Hoelbling
when in the world’s leading democracy
a new president starts his office with

     making life more expensive for average home owners
     signing orders threatening the health of millions
     restricting the publications of researchers
     denying global warming
     encouraging coal and oil companies
     forbidding federal employees to talk to the media
     going on fantasy trips about “alternative facts
          to justify his ridiculous lies
     ordering to build walls to keep out all those aliens,
          like the old Chinese did, to little avail
     issueing poorly formulated presidential orders
          causing confusion and harm and even deaths
     banning even green card holders from entering the country
     filling his cabinet with all the alligators from the swamps
          he promised to clean during his campaign
          people who know how to avoid paying taxes and beating the system
          but have no clue how to govern now that they ARE the system
          and think they can run the govnerment of the USA
          with its 350 million citizens
          as Trump&Cronies; USA, Inc.,
          like their private family husiness for profit

it is high time to seriously ask
what concept
    if any
of democracy he has in mind
 Jan 2017
J Robert Fallon III
Cramped, lost, and crying in my own exhausted body,
tired of spending all my money like I'm overly gaudy.

Short is this pain but long is the ornament,
until I see the path to winning this life-long tournament.

No longer numb am I, yet still caught in a gasp.
New knowledge instilled that ferociously connected the dots, and at long last filled in the gaps.
Next page