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donald-durhamPoems
you are all infinite you, my children of the night pagan wanderers on destinies lips patrons of the streets, lonely, empty, wanting I seen a generation fall I seen a generation crumble and be reborn. You my midnight sorcerers on deaths hitlist listless and searching I seen the dance of a power divide Ego denied, angry id, broken steps steps steps steps we walk steps in the open, we talked talks of confession to the night it held us, comforted us We the unwanted zombies of unheard promises and dysfunctional rational you are all beautiful undaunted by the lines the crooked lines, cut mishapen, disater mishappen Cheers to my world, my surrounding reality scared and scarred by tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow My vagabond lies, my homeless truths You, my enormous, analytical algorythms of disobedience of disorder, of chaos Musicians playing perpetual reqiuems Jazz of the dead, jazz of the wanderer, jazz of the beautiful Show your hand, yell your claim stake your play. concrete mazes, blinding buildings, urban solitute I have found you, I have seen you, you poets of denial, poets of disaster Prose of temptation Words of lament Speak to me my children of the perpetual night My children of music, of poetry, of paintings telling me the broken down minds, the sacrificed economy of love I am lost in these streets I am at home in the unknown I am nothing but a dream, denied We are together all together, here, here and now Lost together Crowded solitude Lets be solidified as one You, my children are emptied of being full full of unknown, full of yourselves and filled with ***** Drunken stories of lullabies lost Pour me another, make it a double. doubled down truth hit me Cigarette stained finger tips Plucked tense strings, Strings so tense you could feel their vibration We sit, listening, ears pointed at God, Waiting to be lulled into compliance I have seen your cigarette stained Finger tips Pluck strings of lament and prophecy Sing me into your future Oh beautiful melody Oh wandering progressions Telling tales of my transgressions Oh trusty chords Lovers speak only lies, With cigarette gently sleeping between exhausted lips Let us lie here Here in this desolate desert moonscape Forlorn homeless shelter New antiqued flashood of home I have seen us staring Staring into the void, Into the fullness of emptiness These are not just dreams Fevered and sweating out the ingested fungus They are the dystopian dreams of Every young adult novel Of every science fiction, battered, back pocket edition Dog eared, notes in the margins, yellowed with love, book. They are the lost bibles of us, Of our current histories and our future stories. My friends Gathered, exuberant, broken and shattered Passing time on the the stools of inebriation Come forth and be counted The artist hang burnt offering from crimson skies Sacrifices of the soul Sacrifices of humanity Exercises of humility Stand here before me and and be chastised A public flogging, a private shaming A social satired informal gathering Gaining peer reviewed synthetically blended praise The dab hazed hipsters Losing time, faking time, Cutting lines, sparking fires inside Burn Burn Burn Lose me in the iridescent, fill me in with acrylic Wash me out with acid and cry- Cry over me, cry with me I am nothing, and we are everything.
0
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 11:25 AM UTC
The Dance of the Infinite
you are all infinite you, my children of the night pagan wanderers on destinies lips patrons of the streets, lonely, empty, wanting I seen a generation fall I seen a generation crumble and be reborn. You my midnight sorcerers on deaths hitlist listless and searching I seen the dance of a power divide Ego denied, angry id, broken steps steps steps steps we walk steps in the open, we talked talks of confession to the night it held us, comforted us We the unwanted zombies of unheard promises and dysfunctional rational you are all beautiful undaunted by the lines the crooked lines, cut mishapen, disater mishappen Cheers to my world, my surrounding reality scared and scarred by tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow My vagabond lies, my homeless truths You, my enormous, analytical algorythms of disobedience of disorder, of chaos Musicians playing perpetual reqiuems Jazz of the dead, jazz of the wanderer, jazz of the beautiful Show your hand, yell your claim stake your play. concrete mazes, blinding buildings, urban solitute I have found you, I have seen you, you poets of denial, poets of disaster Prose of temptation Words of lament Speak to me my children of the perpetual night My children of music, of poetry, of paintings telling me the broken down minds, the sacrificed economy of love I am lost in these streets I am at home in the unknown I am nothing but a dream, denied We are together all together, here, here and now Lost together Crowded solitude Lets be solidified as one You, my children are emptied of being full full of unknown, full of yourselves and filled with ***** Drunken stories of lullabies lost Pour me another, make it a double. doubled down truth hit me Cigarette stained finger tips Plucked tense strings, Strings so tense you could feel their vibration We sit, listening, ears pointed at God, Waiting to be lulled into compliance I have seen your cigarette stained Finger tips Pluck strings of lament and prophecy Sing me into your future Oh beautiful melody Oh wandering progressions Telling tales of my transgressions Oh trusty chords Lovers speak only lies, With cigarette gently sleeping between exhausted lips Let us lie here Here in this desolate desert moonscape Forlorn homeless shelter New antiqued flashood of home I have seen us staring Staring into the void, Into the fullness of emptiness These are not just dreams Fevered and sweating out the ingested fungus They are the dystopian dreams of Every young adult novel Of every science fiction, battered, back pocket edition Dog eared, notes in the margins, yellowed with love, book. They are the lost bibles of us, Of our current histories and our future stories. My friends Gathered, exuberant, broken and shattered Passing time on the the stools of inebriation Come forth and be counted The artist hang burnt offering from crimson skies Sacrifices of the soul Sacrifices of humanity Exercises of humility Stand here before me and and be chastised A public flogging, a private shaming A social satired informal gathering Gaining peer reviewed synthetically blended praise The dab hazed hipsters Losing time, faking time, Cutting lines, sparking fires inside Burn Burn Burn Lose me in the iridescent, fill me in with acrylic Wash me out with acid and cry- Cry over me, cry with me I am nothing, and we are everything.
This is still a work in progress, I am very proud of it and it does need some editing, so if any one would like to lend me their red pen skills, I'd be much appreciated. Also, like I said it's not done. I desire for this poem to run about 15 minutes.
#poem#life#home#hometown#drinking#cigarettes#jazz#scene#setting
donald-durham
Written by
donald-durham
American
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 11:25 AM UTC
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