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Jan 12 · 14
A mayonnaise man
Tells me
I need to spice up my life.

He can see the boredom in my eyes.
He thinks
Something new
Will awake me from my slumber.
But he does not know
I wish to kiss thunder.
I want to feel my atoms burning.
I want to be crushed by the gravity
Of some distant planet.

"I think I'm going to take up writing." I tell him.

He smiles and says, "Yeah you should write a book or something."
He walks off.

And I am his hope-
This mayonnaise man
With all his plans
And systems
And routines.

He sees the chaos in my eyes
And knows,
Even that isn't good enough for me.

I won't let you down.
Dec 2019 · 18
Michael Angelo Dec 2019
Am just
A whisper in the wind-
A gentle reminder of
A dying love.
Above our skyscraper egos
Are worlds still unknown.
Ask for entrance
And you will be shut out forever.
All you have to do is listen;
Audible ghosts scream to us from
Beyond the cosmos.
Bifurcated banshees (our ancestors)
Beg to become whole within us.
Between you and I,
Civilization has reached its peak.
Countless eons of evolution have
Cultivated us writing, madly scrawling
Ciphers to make sense of nonsensical

Am just a whisper in the wind.
Slowly losing my ability to continue on.
It's all up to you now.
Oct 2019 · 34
Michael Angelo Oct 2019
Scrolling through newsfeed
I read
Emmitt Till's historical marker
Had to be made bulletproof
and weigh 500 lbs so as to not be removed.
In some states,
Courts fight for Confederate statues
To stand tall.
There's a tragedy somewhere in it all
I'm sure,
But I don't know what to do about it.
Oct 2019 · 164
Michael Angelo Oct 2019
I have California dreams,
But also
Texas sensibilities.
Sep 2019 · 24
Slight Mist
Michael Angelo Sep 2019
Hopelesseley lost,
In a weak daze
From inconsequential week days
That have no bearing on a future I am not promised.
I pretend to be-
I pretend I am
But if I could behave eternally,
Nobody would ever know of me.
Aug 2019 · 39
Michael Angelo Aug 2019
It is difficult to feel yourself burning when your hands have always been too close to the flames
Aug 2019 · 38
Chasing the wind
Michael Angelo Aug 2019
Ecclesiastes speaks my soul.
All that I know
Had already been known.
What purpose is my toil
If I am destined to return to soil
And give rise to another who is the same as me?
Wisdom brings no peace-
Ignorance, no clarity;
Where then does felicity reside?
Oh! The irony of curiosity
Knowing **** well
It brings only more strife...
Why God
is life?
Jul 2019 · 59
And ever
Michael Angelo Jul 2019
I am the blood of a million failures
Whose only success
Was making the next.
A jellyfish floating by
Hoping to catch what nourishment I can with my tendril soul.
I am not whole,
I was broken from the start.
And I do not know
Where the swallows go when they are not resting upon my window.
Perhaps some place higher than I ever had the ability to imagine.

I speak as though you are familiar, but we lost each other long before our formation. At this point, words are too much information when all anyone wants is to feel.
I feel for you,
But introductions and conclusions always were my weakness,
So I'll float on



Jul 2019 · 177
I sit
Michael Angelo Jul 2019
Bottle of sake in hand,
Looking for a way to make the momentary pause before oblivion last.
At the end of it all
No one will remember
The war
The love
The joy
The pain.
I sit
Longing to understand the song the cosmos sings,
But barley understanding my own heartbeat.
The trouble is
Trouble is the only peace we know-
We are,
We were,
Just moments
In infinity
Jul 2019 · 48
Personal space
Michael Angelo Jul 2019
If my face
My inner scars

Would give me

                                              A wider
Jun 2019 · 89
Michael Angelo Jun 2019
How does one muster the courage
To continue on
When dying
Is the natural thing to do?
Jun 2019 · 61
Michael Angelo Jun 2019
Why step lightly?
Why proclaim politely
The thunder cracking in your bones?
Fear- you'd do good to leave it well enough alone.
Misery is the river of the world
Row row row
Up a stream you already know,
Or jump overboard
And make a big enough splash
To drown out the low drum;
The consecrated, numb voice
Singing in your ears,
Inspired by Tom Wait's "Misery is the river of the world"
Jun 2019 · 49
Too Short
Michael Angelo Jun 2019
My attention span
Is such.....
May 2019 · 89
IT comes
Michael Angelo May 2019
Tumbling Out of no where
From some indescribable source

With the force of a million babies
Squeezing your finger

Where do we find the strength
To continue
When there is war
Broken hearts
A 9 to 5

Life is enough
To make one want death
Yet still
We draw breath

And we find comfort in the smallest of things

Had we known
The veil was so thin
Would we still have worn it
Like a cape

I think we would've
Because IT comes

From somewhere

Whatever IT is
May 2019 · 38
Michael Angelo May 2019
The longer I live
The less I feel I should.
This is not my space.
I drink
To run.
Wish I could run
I run in place.
My thoughts like spider eggs
Thrive in the darkness-
My heart like sunflowers
Craves the light.
How does one stop this
Without a violent fight?

The longer I look
The harder it gets to see
Any meaning.
The longer I write
The less it works
To dull my bleeding.

Does anyone have a fix?
Michael Angelo May 2019
I no longer look for greatness
Among men or the stars.
I clang my head, endlessly, across these bars.
I like the ringing sound they make,
Like church bells-
A wedding cake.
My family gathered round,
No longer hurting.
The tiny dreams that keep me awake,
For in sleep,
I am undeserving.
But sleep I must-
There is greatness in ash and dust.
No soliloquies,
No platitudes,
No profound prose.
Simply death
And cosmic truth.
May 2019 · 59
Michael Angelo May 2019
Water drop
Longing return to the ocean
You can move mountains- erosion

It simply takes time
May 2019 · 105
Michael Angelo May 2019
I am a blood diamond
Beautiful to see,
But rife with pain and agony

Looked upon by dead elk eyes
Sold by treachery and pretty lies

"I came from the dirt
Made the cut and blew"

To shine
A light
I never knew
Line in quotes from Faboulous' "Diamonds"
Apr 2019 · 50
Michael Angelo Apr 2019
Poetry is a dull flame to a dark ignorance.
I sing and you dance.
Don't ask what the words mean-
They are a screeching silence
Echoing the musings of a breathless life.
Something you don't understand, but resonates within you regardless.
You sing, by chance I may sway with the beat. I won't dance for my poetry is incomplete. And I can analyze the purity of your eyes, but there is no fun in dispelling lies.
My heart is wonderous art that bears no meaning except to whomever created it.
Yet relatable-
A sharp darkness
To a blinding flash
Apr 2019 · 60
....An insect
Michael Angelo Apr 2019
Like a moth, I seek flames to ignite matchstick eyes.
I fear kodokushi.
I fear failure.
But most of all, I fear the way traffic moves so slowly towards nowhere.
The trivial things I wish I could escape but can not.
And I know the answers to questions no one has asked...
It is not enough.
I just want to crumple into my self
Like a spider dying.
Becasue I fear everything life has to offer,
And death holds all the promise.
I stifle a few tears
Just to write
Afraid to be exposed by the light
For I am just....
Apr 2019 · 63
Michael Angelo Apr 2019
Learn to sing songs your
Undying heart
Wants heard.
Mar 2019 · 54
Row Row Row Your Boat
Michael Angelo Mar 2019
This poetry thing
Isn't for amateurs.
Some nights your heart wants to sing,
But you'll forget the words-
Words that so carefully guide us,
Yet so painfully bind us to a dream.
The dream of escaping, peacefully, the horrendous atrocities of reality.
You see dead bodies bleeding into the street,
But describe it as a stream, crimson from the setting sun's glow.
Watch it flow lazily into oblivion.
The indifference you learn from watching ghastly scenes unfold again and again.
And people sing so merrily, the survival tactic of distraction,
But you've forgotten the words.
What were the words?
Mar 2019 · 630
Michael Angelo Mar 2019
I suffer
The circular trepidation
Of waiting
For joy
Mar 2019 · 66
Michael Angelo Mar 2019
Spend too much time in my mind
Still not getting ahead
Lately I've been feeling the urge to cry
Not really knowing why
Maybe it's a well of emotions
I thought had run dry
Don't understand it but I try try try
I'll make you love me
My words don't taste like they used to
The day my dreams and memories meet
Maybe I'll find
Meaning in the secrets I so carefully keep
Mar 2019 · 51
Michael Angelo Mar 2019
Some things
Even the greatest
Can not
Feb 2019 · 56
....What can any body do?
Michael Angelo Feb 2019
You say you're ready to end it all, things are too much to handle
Meanwhile I sit in a bathtub full of water blade to my skin.
I know you want something, some show of emotion-
Anything for God's sake!
How hard could it be?
But I am not strong, though I feign it.
I don't know a thing, though I claim it.
You search for an impetus to stay.
All I can clearly say is, "There is none."
Its devastating, that much I know.
But what am I to do when all I've been through has extinguished the light I once possessed? Somehow light shines through my words, sometimes
But it's just muscle memory at this point.
What can anyone do for you?

What can anybody do for any of us.....
Feb 2019 · 152
Michael Angelo Feb 2019
Suffer with me
Just a bit longer.
Starless nights
In the city-
Watching, waiting
For a glimmer of peace.
Shooting stars
Zoom too fast for us
to make a wish, but truthfully,
I don't think either of us would know what to wish for.
Stare at me just a bit longer.
Dimmed eyes
Spiral out of control.
"I ain't a kid no more,
We'll never be those kids again."
Said we'd never hurt each other and meant it. Guess we didn't know how hard a promise is to keep. And we sing our emotions cuz we're tired of screaming and not being heard.
Overdose on lullabies
The starless nights
Seem to go on
But the songs,
The songs are lovely.
Line in quotes from Frank Ocean's Ivy
Feb 2019 · 246
Michael Angelo Feb 2019
It's ok to hurt sometimes.
Happy people run from their pain, then break like waves on a Cliffside-
I don't break.
I hurt, sometimes.
That is all.
The sun can't always shine, nor darkness last. It is the ever changing tide of life, it is rising to my feet, and it doesn't hurt, it doesn't always hurt most times.
Jan 2019 · 87
Michael Angelo Jan 2019
Don't force your thoughts onto my words.
Don't know if you're not sure.
What I mean and what I say
Are not the same-

A tragedy
I know...
Jan 2019 · 338
Michael Angelo Jan 2019
I could like you forever
Or love you
Every now and then.
I haven't much use for them.
The ghost memories of a once heart
Guide my hand
Across this surface-
And I feel,
I feel

Dec 2018 · 53
Michael Angelo Dec 2018
Sorrow touches my lips
As I exhale
An agonizing sigh.
Slumped over in a chair
Eager to go nowhere.
And I feel alone
Because I am.... I think.
And Descartes has been dead for some time now, but his thoughts live on amongst scholars claiming to know something of the world.
Meanwhile, I know nothing. Why does the sun keep coming up? Where do the dead go? Does time speed forward, or march on slow?
My back tires. I change posture, lean back.
I am alone, but these faces are not to blame. How do we communicate when I know not their name?
Dec 2018 · 86
Michael Angelo Dec 2018
Life is sweet,
But replete
With stretches
Of bitter agony.
Dec 2018 · 65
Michael Angelo Dec 2018
Where does a poet go
When his troubled soul
Is now fixed?
What happens when you move on, but can't let go of this
Writing thing?
Were these words my weakness or my strength?
They were all I had when there was nobody to confide in,
No one to listen.

Is there a support group for tears that once ran sad but now flow with joy?
For I am a man now, but deep inside is that lost little boy gasping for breath. Is letting him rest rebirth of death?
These words who were once a big part of me- I can't tell if they were my armor or vulnerability.

Where does a poet go when he's lost his words,
But gained a soul?
Dec 2018 · 138
Rikki Tikki Tavi
Michael Angelo Dec 2018
I imbibe on this treacherous night
Amongst fanged smiles
And murderous eyes.
They all know *******-
But themselves- are afraid to die.
Take another one down-
Their laughter like a car crash rapes my ears. They sin but know no tears. I fail but know no fears. I can't relate to my peers. What am I doing here?

Got flanked by one asking, "So, in your eyes, what's the biggest difference between the rich and the poor?"

"One has nothing but act like it's everything. The other has everything and acts like it is nothing. Both think the other a fool."

Another one interjects, "But surely poverty can't be that noble."
As if Jesus was handing out cheese trays and champagne to dinner guests wearing Italian suits with silk vests.
"Poverty is self inflicted. Anyone who works hard enough can achieve whatever they want."

I smirk and say, "That's why your grandfather's business pays for all of your families' needs, so you can reap the benefits and call it work?"

The subject is changed.
Some nonsense about politics now.

And all they do is talk.
No mind changed or knowledge gained.
The atmosphere is dry; tame has become their death glance.
Maybe I should change the music and show them how to dance.
Nov 2018 · 141
Michael Angelo Nov 2018
Begrudgingly, I place shoes upon my feet to go places I've been before
A million paces back and forth
Trail marks left on the floor
Trapped, not by chains or circumstance,
but by a mind unable to feel
Walking through minefields of neglect and lost intellect
How many lies did I forget?
How many lies do I still hold true?
Communication flows from you to me, but not me to you
I'm in dire straits
This turtle race
Makes me anxious
I scratch and scrawl
Diseased words
On my heart
Words like:
"Unyielding pain,
Demons, haunting, hopeless, can't, unable"
And we are conduits of our thoughts
I've been pacing back and forth in these shoes
And just now realized I've never put on socks
Nov 2018 · 63
To someone without faith
Michael Angelo Nov 2018
For you are a rose
Behaving as a dandelion-
As the wind blows
You are scattered
Leaving nothing for yourself.
Let yourself be tended to
And bloom how you were intended to .
And perhaps, you'll lose your toughness, but then
You Could enjoy the cool breeze
And we can gleefully discuss it
Nov 2018 · 35
Michael Angelo Nov 2018
Not sure
                   When it happened.
When I lost passion.
                 Like all things,
It fades with time.

The process of moving a pen
Across a page doesn't feel the same.
Words don't carry weight,
But still they pull me down
As I drown in a pool of non-existence.
And I say "non-existence" because if you exist in a state other than your full potential, does it even really count?

All the failures of past generations and their endless frustrations; can you not feel them mount?

All the questions I can't ask out loud
So I write them down,
But what do I do when anxieties abound
And the smell of fresh ink doesn't sedate me like it used to?

When life gets too much
And you need to escape the clutch
Of reality, where does one recuse to?

Gentle words
                          Move me
              Fellow Gentiles
Who weren't promised
                A thing.

What's psalms do I sing

Nov 2018 · 53
Michael Angelo Nov 2018
What temperance
Hath peace
In me
The nights
Dreams alight
Upon my mind
No longer.
Endless faith
In hopeless deeds-
Growing pains
From defective seeds.
What I am and what I came to be
Never coincided peacefully
I was supposed to set the world on fire,
Instead I water the seeds of my own discord
That something good may come of it
Oct 2018 · 90
Michael Angelo Oct 2018
Everything has its place,
Has it's meaning
'Til you realize
The abject truth:
A spider eats a moth
The same way it does a butterfly.
Oct 2018 · 112
A review of my surroundings
Michael Angelo Oct 2018
On this day, one of the few I look to see what's going on around me,
I finally notice I'm out of place;
Amongst teens that speak of a love they don't truly know, that's why they speak of it so romantically.
And the older souls so full of hope. The brightest future shows itslef when you go through a dark past, but, in that case, an incandescent bulb would do- that is the tragedy. Not everyone gets a sun. I sit here dumb trying to be a part of something I am not.  A poet... no.
A writer... no.
Just a man
With too much time
Not enough heart.
Oct 2018 · 211
Michael Angelo Oct 2018
This thing I do with my hands
Is not art,
Though some may see it's tragic beauty.
Like whispers on a mountain range
I write
Estranged from perception.
It is not for you.
Somewhere deep inside
Remnants of my soul cling to life.
Unrepentant breaths,
Suffering humble deaths.
Cuts across my skin
Just to release endorphins.
Pain no longer suffices.
Numbness has taken a hold of me
The mellow glow of a yellow niceness.
Freedom only in death.
Used up four lives
How many have I left?
My soul cries,
"Not quite yet.
Just write it out.
Ride it out."
Sep 2018 · 74
No end in sight
Michael Angelo Sep 2018
My tale is one of impermanence.
Waste this life,
Lament the next.
I Breathe,
As a reflex.
Children enjoy the show,
I know all the magic tricks
So I sit in the back looking for other distractions.
A million times or more
I've seen bulls slaughtered on the stadium floor;
Dying to the thunderous roar
Of people's silent indifference.
It doesn't make any sense.
And the tears don't fall like they used to.
After a while you gain a disdain for the world and how it used you.
Every now and then it gets too much to bear.
I sought escape but couldn't find it anywhere.
Maybe my chances will be better in the next,
Or ,maybe,
I'll be lost in the process
Sep 2018 · 65
Michael Angelo Sep 2018
It's disheartening to see sparks that once caught your eye slowly flicker away and die. I think on how long I carried the flame. Has it been long?
How many people have looked into my eyes and saw the fire waning? Now the smoking ashes of a once memory flutter in the wind like butterflies in migration. Where do they go? I don't know nor do I care anymore...
Aug 2018 · 127
Because the wind changes
Michael Angelo Aug 2018
And so
The wind changes
The birds sing along.
I'm going to Dakota
Where the cold silence is understood.
As the rose blooms,
My grip loosens;
The thorns didn't hurt very long.
"Why haven't I done it sooner?"
I guess I just wanted someone to feel the pain I feel.

I'm sorry
I tricked you
Into loving me......
Aug 2018 · 1.3k
Have me cremated
Michael Angelo Aug 2018
The day will come
When taking a ****
Will Seem a task greater
Than storming the beaches of Normandy.

On that day,
My bones,
Like wind chimes
Singing in the wind,
Will burn
A dull but ever-lasting flame.
A dying star
Taking its last breaths
And all will stand in wonderment
Asking themselves
"What now"
But only I will know.

From ash
A Phoenix rises
Only to fall again-
But I'm just  
A raven
My way to escape.
Aug 2018 · 122
We got it backwards
Michael Angelo Aug 2018
Our  skin is
        fluttering in the night.

The melancholy
          on our bones
Is an old man
At a ******'s
In exchange for
Some pretty girl's

Our heroes
              are Silver plated
               Cast in clay.

What is there

          To say?
Life has conned us all

            As dried leaves

                    Under sun rays

Without dancing in the wind.

We were meant to
               Glide up
In the sky,

While stars look upon us
                           And cry.
Aug 2018 · 108
Michael Angelo Aug 2018
I've nary a use for dreams.
Stifled memories and obscenities
Created by a tortured mind.
The real world
With it's dangerous and deceitful
Seems more kind.
Nothing left to find.
They continue to sell us the dream of the universe.
"New adventures"
It's like new love same lame heart.
Somewhere along the way
We've lost our art.
What use is a dream
When reality has become absurd
Aug 2018 · 107
.....No one has answers
Michael Angelo Aug 2018
No one has answers.
You can ask priests or rabbis,
But they take everything on faith.
And the redeemed vehemently believe, the innocent wonder why bad things continue to happen.
No one has answers.
My words, in some semblance of hope, carry me day to day.
I randomly want to break out in tears-years of repressed emotion no doubt-
But I stifle them back for another time.
I don't know why.
No one has answers.
Every good thing in life can be quantified and sold, by those who scheme or dream. No one knows the fiber of our being or our meaning. We drift endlessly at sea. "Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink." Innumerable bodies floating around, too many thoughts to think.  
Our eyes, in pain mirred,
Leave much to be desired;
Knowing, after all these years,
We have come to no greater conlcusion:
We all sail in confusion.
We assail the demons inside,
But they never truly die-
We just learn to live with them.
We never win,
And I don't know why.....
Line in quotes from Rime of the Ancient Mariner
Jul 2018 · 116
....But I always have been.
Michael Angelo Jul 2018
I had a vegetarian steak.
It wasn't horrible,
But it wasn't great.
I'm in a vegetative state.
Not really living,
Not really dead.
Cocooned in silk.
Waiting to molt into
Some thing of a greater ilk
-don't think I ever will-
Diamond encrusted shackles
Glimmer pretty in sunlight,
But I can't wipe tears away from my eyes. I have no joys,
No fears, no meassage,
No thoughts worth thinking anymore.
Vessel broken, I'm sinking into depression more and more. I have suffered, as we all have. I have struggled, as we all still do. We are the same, but I cannot connect to any one of you. What do I have left? Music, women, drugs, poetry, TV, liquor; all the distractions are pointless now. As i stare off into space reminiscing simpler times, I realize, I never really named the voice in my head. I can't mourn it now that it's dead.
Life is a paper plane in space flying toward the sun.

I'm in trouble....
Jul 2018 · 97
Michael Angelo Jul 2018
The glimmer has dulled.
In the winter
We curled together
Hopeful that summer would melt our frozen hearts.
Cryogenics never quite took off; forever is nothing to scoff at. How are we to spend eternity when this quarter century has already lasted too long? We listen to the same songs on repeat- we know the words but forgotten how to tap our feet. Asymptotic lives forced to come close but never meet. Summer is here. Our hearts were never really frozen, that's just what they told us. And to come together is to burn alive- Salem witch trials- mediocre minds know extraordinary vileness. Nights I wake up drenched in sweat wondering what could have been. I play our songs half hoping to be frozen in memory. I reach and reach, but touch only air. Heavy, humid air. Always choking on ghostly emotions. Rain clouds come round but nothing falls. Existential drought. Bodies fall,
Under the sun.
The unaffected
Play on the beach
And have fun.
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