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1.4k · Aug 2018
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.
995 · Jan 2021
Call me sometime
Michael Angelo Jan 2021
I long for your voice.
Michael Angelo Feb 2022
Have I become a vestige of memory?
Are words the only thing keeping me....


I fear death; both literal and metaphorical.

These letters trickle from my veins-
Crimson rain
To let you know
I'm still up there
Pouring my all
Into whatever container
You need filled.

I am not dead.....

704 · Mar 2019
Michael Angelo Mar 2019
I suffer
The circular trepidation
Of waiting
For joy
696 · Feb 2018
Cotton candy funeral
Michael Angelo Feb 2018
I feel
In a world that
Only power.
Do I even exist?
My voicemail has too many
Unread messages.
I live in the vestiges
Of broken hearts.
I bear resemblances
To tragic arts.
I walk through
A world of slaughter-
Finding words to ease the pain
Is getting harder.
Words now,
Only spew.
Words with meaning,
Are few.
A New World,
But nothing is new
Say a word long enough
And it doesn't make sense.
Do a thing long enough and.......


My thoughts coalesce into something they shouldn't be.
Thinking of becoming someone that isn't me.
My family has such a beautiful tree.
Hang myself
As a beautiful leaf.
All we ever looked for was some sort of relief.
All we ever wanted was some sort of belief.
But how could we believe in you all,
When you
Lie instead of talking tall?
How do we believe in ourselves,
When all we know is how to fail?

Oh, cotton candy is falling from the sky.
Pink clouds on fire-
Pink matter.
This world is cold,
I can't stand her.
The heart is tattered.
We never really mattered.

You've been gone too long now.
The tree splits the skies
Rooms filled with dyes
Of pink.
What are we left to think
Or feel
Except..... powerless.
Took inspiration from Frank Ocean's "Pink Matter" and David Bowie's "Blackstar"
634 · Mar 2021
You can find me here....
Michael Angelo Mar 2021
Demons that should've
Let me rot years ago.
I take my breaths;
Inhale deep and slow.
I consume the world around me,
But never grow-
Stultified caterpillar
With nowhere to go.
I know
There is more to this.
Whatever this is.
But until
My eyes are allowed
See salvation;
You can find me here.
590 · Jan 2021
I miss....
Michael Angelo Jan 2021
The sublime times
We would climb
Just to sled down
On trashcan lids.

We were kids
And we were poor,
But we never wanted anything
Just more time to continue the fun.

I seep those memories in my sleep.
I miss when dreams
Were within arms reach.
All we yearned for was the presence of each other.
I was your friend.
You were my brother.
Michael Angelo Oct 2020
I still think of the time we spent together
It seemed so endless.
The finitude of the moment
Made our love taste sweet.
The misfortune was-
It only tasted so
once the moment
Was complete.
423 · Feb 2021
...Just keep breathing
Michael Angelo Feb 2021
Life doesn't seem
As difficult
As people make it out
To be.

All you have to do is:

Keep breathing...

Keep breathing...
413 · Jan 2019
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

Michael Angelo Mar 2022
A courtesy to myself
To not be crushed
By gravity.

In these times,
Caring is not impossible,
But heroic.

But *******,
I am only

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.
317 · Jun 2019
Michael Angelo Jun 2019
How does one muster the courage
To continue on
When dying
Is the natural thing to do?
306 · Feb 2019
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.
Michael Angelo Feb 2018
Where is
The escape
From the shackle
That is the body?
There's a whole universe
We'll never experience
Because we're trapped in time
And physics
And scientific laws.
I want to create
From thin air.
I want to feel
Star explosions.
I want to inhale quasars.
I am not god,
But I am not man either.
A Career, money, taxes, security;
These are the least of my worries.
Each year spent in incarceration,
The soul dies....
How am I supposed to see value in this world
If I have cosmic eyes?
279 · Oct 2018
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."
271 · Apr 2021
Michael Angelo Apr 2021
My past creations are revelations
Of the beauty I once possessed.
My mind deserves its rest.
My best
Is distant memory
That I can reflect on
269 · May 2018
Santa Fe
Michael Angelo May 2018
We were young when we were friends.
Always used to play pretend.
I was a cop. He was a crook.
Never did things by the book.

Bang bang, he shot me down.
Bang bang, I hit the ground.
Bang bang, that awful sound.
Bang bang, my buddy shot me down.

It was us against the crowd, But time passed, parted us like clouds.
I fit in. He wasn't allowed.
He looked for help, I didn't make a sound.

Bang bang, I shot him down.
Bang bang, He hit the ground.
Bang bang, That awful sound.
Bang bang , I shot my buddy down.

Festering wounds don't heal quick.
I heard something that made me sick.
Screams echoing through the corridor.
He loaded up, kicked down the door.
I don't thing we're friends anymore.

Bang bang, he shot me down.
Bang bang, I hit the ground.
Bang bang, that awful sound.
Bang bang, my buddy shot me down.
My cover of Nancy Sinatra's 'Bang Bang (My baby shot me down)' In regards to recent events in Texas.
263 · Feb 2020
This game we play
Michael Angelo Feb 2020
Has been around for millennia.
We are fruit
Falling from the branches
Of a tree.
A tree we could never truly understand.
We fall
To give others
Another chance.
Some are carried away
By the wind
Or finches,
Or insects.
But most of us fall.
And most won't grow
Into a life giving tree.
Maybe you;
Definitely not me.
But that is the game.
As I see the ground approaching
At terminal velocity-
I'm just happy that I got to play.
254 · Jul 2019
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
237 · Oct 2019
Michael Angelo Oct 2019
I have California dreams,
But also
Texas sensibilities.
219 · Feb 2018
Michael Angelo Feb 2018
I can hear
Them screaming-
Deathly, blood-gargling
As a boy,
I wanted to jump in
And save them.
I saw others try,
But like drowning victims,
Their instinct to escape
Puts both parties
in danger.
Now, in my age,
After watching too many
Failed attempts,
I get the feeling
They don't want to be saved;
They simply
don't want
To drown
203 · Feb 2019
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
200 · Feb 2018
Michael Angelo Feb 2018
This thing, like a paintbrush on my fingertips, seeks solace in my bed. It purrs at the slightest touch-
I never could quite wrap my head around how we find comfort from inhuman sources. But here we are at 4 AM, as my best thoughts slip away into the forgotten night. It yawns and stretches next to me; I may as well fall asleep while I still can.
192 · Dec 2018
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.
191 · Nov 2018
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
185 · Jul 2018
I can't think positive
Michael Angelo Jul 2018
Life is a million little deaths,
I'm not sure how many I have left.
Lonely nights I've wept and dreamt for reprieve. God has one too many tricks up his sleeve. Talking doesn't ease the pain, it only distributes it across multiple planes of emotion. How do I feel? The better question is, "How does one survive being stranded in the ocean? You hope and pray; That is the way. Place your faith in the thought, "Some other day it will be ok." Don't mind me I'm dying- a bird flying against the wind, never moving, unable to win. Writing is a practice in futility now. I ramble on about the same problems. A fly crashing into Windows, unable to solve them. A million deaths before we get to live. We take a million breaths before we learn to give. I could create universes with this nib, but instead I ***** and complain about my circumstances.
How does one stop?
Michael Angelo May 2018
My thoughts
Devolve into
Simple acts of
To an
Indigo dream.
Something happens
And there I go
Silently into my
But it's just a reflex.
Emotions don't correlate
Because I feel nothing
As of late.
I engage in blasé
About how this
Demeanor toward
A life I don't care  for
Can't be healthy,
But I never learnt French
So I'm not too concerned.
Memories of happiness
Are etched; burned
To the back of my skull,
But when I close my eyes
All I see
Is darkness.
My thoughts
Meaninglessly devolve
Into poems that
Bear no weight
On the severity of my problem.
I simply react
By writing them down
178 · Aug 2018
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......
175 · Aug 2018
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.
170 · Feb 2018
Roses envy the birds
Michael Angelo Feb 2018
The birds
With their iridescent plumage
Have lost their color due to age,
Or cynical ways-
But they fly
Fly into endless skies
And I'm here
With my pretty thorns
In a world adust with scorn,
Wondering what it's like
To be free
Michael Angelo Mar 2018
The sweetest victory
Is the one you don't see coming
The saddest loss
Is the one you don't see coming

People spend their time
Trying to predict
The future
Then wonder why
The outcome seems bitter
168 · Jul 2018
....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....
Michael Angelo Jan 2018
I want to find a way
To be pretty
For the USA.
I am more than my eye color.
More than my skin tone.
Underneath the mask I wear
Is a being that looked upon the world
And thought,
"This is not enough."
The soul knows better, but the flesh is used to the rough conditions we are kept in. Trapped in our skin. Trapped in our looks. Trapped in our insecurities. The judging eyes of others are hooks reeling me in towards their predispositions and maligned visions.
No one seems to see,
I am not the me they think I am.
I'm more than anyone could've ever imagined.
166 · Oct 2018
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.
166 · Feb 2018
Backwards metamorphosis
Michael Angelo Feb 2018
Tears roll down and sear my face. You would think I'd finally get used to this place- this world of perfect imperfection. How many lessons is one to learn? How many times must one burn under a sun indifferent to our existence? I want to scream in people's faces, "SNAP OUT OF IT!" But they wouldn't listen. What use is this toungue if I cannot speak? What use are these lungs if I cannot breathe easy? I have an anxious disposition and the universe laughing in derision at me doesn't help any.
164 · Aug 2018
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
163 · Jul 2018
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.
161 · May 2019
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"
160 · Aug 2018
.....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
Michael Angelo Feb 2018
I'm watch the news talk about school shootings on the rise. Middle class families crying that their children shouldn't have to worry about gun violence- a novel idea. I'm not trying to say the events aren't tragic, because they are, but I think back on a time time- I was eight or nine- and I was at the corner store buying chips and a soda after scrounging all day for money. I had the bag in my hand and I was opening the fridge when shots rang out- they always sound like firecrackers- and I ducked and waited. When all was said and done I payed and left. As I walked out, I saw the bullet holes perforating the store wall. "Our kids are supposed to be safe." They say. How is it I learned that is not the case long before most? sigh I don't mean to come off as insensitive, but I guess I can't help it?
158 · Nov 2020
Michael Angelo Nov 2020
I've been lauded as
"Pretty decent"
I've been celebrated
As "A Cool Guy"
I can chop mountains
In half with my fist.
A voodoo child,
I have never missed
My mark.
My story arc
Has only begun.
The highest peaks
Are only distractions
I want more than
This earth can give.
Michael Angelo Feb 2018
You are a source of smiles in my life of bleakness.
My one desire, my only weakness.
To call it love would be cliché,
But you are the one; my saving grace.
That's how I feel, though I don't always show it.
That's how I feel about you, and you should always know it.
156 · May 2018
...But aren't we all?
Michael Angelo May 2018
Forgotten how to cry
Tragedy tragedy tragedy
Has numbed the pain
Only the dull remains.
What it's like to die
Day by day.
Some demon eye watches
From a dark grey sky
My tamagahane soul.
Belong above the moon
Light years above this place
As Bowie plays
Exclusively for lost ears.
A voice tells me,
"In life, you're either in pain or in delusion."
I've been losing
My grip
On this string of reality.
Forgotten how to cry.
What's even the point of these eyes?
To watch the crumbling stars;
Struggling to figure out what we are?
To look through darkness
For some kind of hope?
This is my drink.
This is my dope.
No need to think.
No need to cope.
I'm drowning in the quicksand.
End this poem
End it all.
Blood, like rainfall
Keeps me talking tall
But falling short of paradise.
I'm in danger.....
Michael Angelo Feb 2018
There is no escapin'
The vulture or the raven.
There is no dulcet tone
To dull the ringing in your craven ears, too afraid to hear, "I'm done."
The poor soul knows the misfortune of gold; the gold soul sees poverty as a misfortune.... somebody has to lose. And this desert, bigger than the Gobi, is the one and only locale one can walk infinitely to their doom-
Room enough only for the sun, the moon, and the vultures circling on high.
There is no chance....
Why even try?
153 · Apr 2018
Life on Mars? (Cover)
Michael Angelo Apr 2018
Placate their shattered hearts.
Let them play their tragic parts.
Their eyes are sunken dreams.
Life, death, and
Everything in between.
Jesus is no where to be found.
I sigh as I look around

At the preachers
Giving into devils,
Look how the pious pray.
What more can I say
As i look
at the woman
Dealing with the wrong guy.
Oh no
I wonder if she'll ever know,
She's on the best selling show.
Is there life on mars?

Oh the piano is out of tune
To those who grew
On the moon.
So detached from this place.
Hear it in their voice
You can read it on their face.
This life is a depressing chore,
'Cause they lived it ten times or more.
They're about to be sad again
As we force them to look

At the preachers
Giving into devils,
Look how the pious pray.
What more can I say
As i look
at the woman
Dealing with the wrong guy.
Oh no
I wonder if she'll ever know,
She's on the best selling show.
Is there life on mars?
My version of my favorite Bowie song "life on mars?"
153 · Sep 2018
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
Michael Angelo Jan 2018
Claire ,the soiled, is a clairvoyant. Clears the air of torment, all she sees is past this moment.
She can feel the apathy and ensuing sorrow, consequence of living in tomorrow.
I hope that she can find peace of mind, so I let her borrow a piece of mine.
The offering is slim,
I could never be them, or him.
It seems, for all the dreams we have, the future is never had.
Claire the clairvoyant questions the clarion call of clarity.
I'm losing touch with her, as she's losing touch with me.
I can't see past the present.
Past and present: that's when I learn my lessons.
Past and present: these are my future confessions.
I outlast my presence, but somehow lessen my essence.
I don't know what the end is.
Where is the ending?
I'm lost in a never ending state of ignorant conjecture.
I need Claire, but she's past this, somewhere in the future, and time travel has always been confusing to me.
150 · May 2019
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
146 · Apr 2018
Michael Angelo Apr 2018
I drive, during daylight, through the city.
It's a different side I never get to see.
I'm looking to satiate my hunger;
A hunger older than time.
A hunger that leads men to create gods, governments, science and traffic law.
The endeavor is foolish,
Restaurants and bars brimming with people looking for substance,
They're looking too.
And the flea-ridden dog with the lame leg, he's looking too.
The woman at the bus stop with all her belongings in a trash bag, applying makeup,
She's a looking too.
The man wearing a baseball cap and glasses in his convertible Porsche,
He's looking too.
The earth hasn't gotten any bigger, yet there's enough to keep teams of scientists- different fields too- occupied for years.
And I'm driving though the city
Looking for something to do.
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