The cannot hands

Of voluptuous calms

Who wish a difference

To inverted comas

Caress a careless charm

I've been practicing lucid dreaming for a while now, and I think I've almost got it down.

(If you didn't know, lucid dreaming is kind of like dreaming, but with the lights on. It's very cool.)

The way it works -- or at least, in the method I'm using -- is by first establishing a "totem." I use the jade elephant you gave me for my birthday three days before it happened.

What you do is you alter your totem in a unique way so that it really stands out to you, incase you ever come across it in your dreams; this way hopefully it will jump-shock your mind into consciousness, allowing you to take the wheel.

I wrote your initials on the back. DN.

And I know you'd probably be thinking "why would you ever waste time perfecting a skill that will never have any practical use?"

You always were the practical one. But hear me out.

When I dream, it is the only time I get to see you.

You know, you've been gone for almost a year this Tuesday, and this jade elephant is all I have left. This jade elephant, and your initials. This Jade elephant, and DN.

I miss you, man.

And I don't really know how comas work, but if you can hear me, just know that I've almost got it down.

Soon, it'll be just like the old days.
I promise.

Along a narrow, vacant street at 2 a.m.



Underneath the threatening lights of peril



An act of ******* was taking place between



A beautiful cigarette and the orifice of my lips





Halloween had not yet dawned upon us



Yet as I walk Jack-O-Lanterns smile at me



Displaying minor quakes of bloodthirsty evil



While a serum of scorn soaks my tongue





With a heartless trick of ice, cold malice



Summoning the entire town to its kneecaps



Devils regurgitate lullabies resembling the sound



Of nails ****** a chalkboard sparing no mercy





Arousing the hopeless romantics



To awaken a graveyard



And **** the corpses until they're



Resurrected from their comas





As the nymphomaniacs ice



Their frozen flesh with *****



Painting an ocean of abstract thoughts



Across the edges of their frames of mind





Do morticians make up the majority



Of necrophilia related crimes?



Maybe so but, I bet they had never felt



A ****** so dry and so cold





Yet still the thrill of chills tickle these criminal's spines



While they measure their screams careful not to awaken



The beautifully disgusting corpses that lie before them



They turn their heads only to find a pair of scarlet eyes





Gawking at them from within a cowardly shield of fear



Darkness was it's home, Mother to all its desires



In my opinion it was just a phase; A massacre encaged

I personally
Love food comas;
And cookie periods,
And gumbo
Exclamation marks!
The're the best!
And semicolon pies,
Oh man...
And peach cobbler
Parenthesis,
They're perfect
With scoops
Of delicious vanilla
Question marks
With a drizzle
Of caramel
Quotation marks,
Oh no!
I'm going
Into an
Anaphylactic shock
From the forward slash
And back slash
Layered lasagna,  
I'm going comatose!
Quick! make me some alphabet soup!
© okpoet

Remember when following twinkling lights down sparkling hallways that life is but a dream
and here is the essence and truth of the whole thing ripping at the seams,
spilling out through bell peels and peeking out from bows of holly.
Once a year reality shows a bit of leg.
So enjoy it thoroughly through rounds of eggnog and sugar comas,
through cellophane and paper napkins,
through pointless conversations omitting drug references and financial statuses.
Just put some snow down someones back,
and if it isn't available,
good ol' ice does fine.
Forget that in a few days and a few minutes the world will close up again and deny it's divine nature.
Add a bit more weight to show that it happened,
to prove that it happened for the next few months.

Pequeño por fuera, enorme por dentro
cazador de nacido, mañoso aprendido
de orejas grandes y cola parada.

El mejor amigo, mi mejor amigo
distraído, te llamaba el instinto
me querías y yo te quiero

Solo espero que estés en un cielo
donde vivan grillos y conejos
donde comas como tanto te gustaba
donde juegues hasta no poder, donde duermas
como nunca, donde puedas darte un baños de sol
donde el agua no te falte y tengas amigos con quien compartir.

Si no hay cielo para perros
ven a mi corazón
que aquí te quiero.

Ojala pudiera haber estado ahí
para cuidarte y acariciarte,
rascarte la panza y pasear contigo.

The material objects
Shaped like global projects
Not for manufacturing
But for hassling and crackling
Like lightning and spiking
The mind with a nail
That flies through the air
As the red runs through hair
It leaks unto the face and reeks
As it's covered with white sheets
Pray deep, and live sweet
No way you'll get over this
The ship is sailing, and leaving a blip
Isn't what's written in the script
Criminals are staring licking lips
Even if the mind remains infinite
The body is super finite and timid
Primitive is a definitive
Description of the gifts
And the derivative flows
From the mouth of gold and souls
Which were sold and outgrown
But kept in a small room
Without a bit of sun to groom
The seed which needs to feed
On the principles of the weak
Desperation within these times
Lead me to be confined between
The power of the lack of minds

The flights are so carefully and unanimously chartered
In the end it's the poor and uninformed who are martyred
Nothing but cattle to be led towards the slaughter
The carvers are waving their hands as they swarm us

All I hear are screams
Passing through the dreams
Into the realms of the sickening
Men dribbling magazines
Into darkened hands and things
While straddling the fencing
Their hands start shaking
As the body follows quaking
Falling from the shrieking
Of the thunderous blows
Impacting the whole globe
Earthquakes, hurricanes, and snow
Blizzards leaving us as gizzards
Our sons are molesters and
Our daughters are strippers
Wondering where this'll get us?
Further from the better
Deeper into comas and
Commas can't break the fact
That we're under attack
From those whom hold a badge
And those whom hold a strap
Underarm wishing due harm
Pressing onto triggers
While avoiding the alarms
Silent killers voicing their opinions
As fortune tellers hold their charms
Wailing "you're too close to sun"
As the youth run to grab their guns

The flights are so carefully and unanimously chartered
In the end it's the poor and uninformed who are martyred
Nothing but cattle to be led towards the slaughter
The carvers are waving their hands as they swarm us

Insanity is what's referred to as
The common suffering man
Media wants you to cram
Misinformation into your head
With dread you step and
Inch into the abyss
Never to remiss on the strips
Of truth locked in consciousness
The involuntary thought processes
Destruct free will in segments
From 60 minutes to 30 seconds
Intentions are clandestine
Yet you feel you're destined
To earn respect when they'll spit
On your grave, after they dissect
And get off on the fact
That they ripped away your mask
And put you off track because
They feared the soul you had
You want to have it back
But they're not having that
The suits in the dark rooms
Would rather mentally doom
The fool, and save bullets for troops
To shoot, tracing blood under boots
The plan is so smooth
Because you play by their rules
From fast cars to ****** jewels
The thorny crown is on you

———"that familiar boiling yolk of a sunrise—comas richer than russian dark chocolate— & saturn smoking a cigar while playing chess with gravity... i have been here before."

ocean dove, pardon my excuses for not writing as of late; been busy fulfilling a prophecy that can't even look me in the eye and ask me to change.  in the june wreckage of two thousand and sixteen;  i retired my tongue with the dormant volcanoes  before the world could end in my mouth.  and yet my poetry informs me that there are some wounds too sophisticated to even flower into scars—kind of like how my words will never feel like honey again, (but vinegar nonetheless.)

how cruel of me it was; to condemn you to a death without one final cigarette slow dancing with your lungs.  i miss the shadows of you most: the belt of venus caged like a wild animal in your eyes, your rusty guitar silky voice dripping off the haunted house we called home, countless a.m. drives kicking up filthy moonlight in the rearview mirror, but most of all—the way you said 'i love you' like it was nothing dressed up in something fashionable.

it is now the june of two thousand and nineteen. this wreckage sat on a throne and filled into the moon's shoes. a crown crawled it's way home to my head and kissed me with knowledge drenched in your name.  this queen started from lesson no. 1: broken instruments, will preach broken sounds—  and how lovely it has been, planting a world war in my soul only to raise eden in it's stead.  i will miss your company, but your ghost is no longer a requirement for me to be complete.

i have learned to stop loving falsehoods.  i have learned to start loving the leftovers of who i am becoming.  we would have been star crossed lovers had you not tried to swallow that bottle of pills that famous night where we fought like madonnas— but it looks like you got to death's fortune cookie before i did.

"and one day, you will have lived long enough to taste your grief turn bittersweet too"———

I'm raw my flow  consumes dextrose
Tell peta  I do the most
Loud sounds I'm out in the public
Friends with  Lions we close like cousins
I'm cooking ..in a gourmet kitchen
Chicken is my opposition
Sweet and sour
Predator I'm not a scavenger no coward
Blood falls I need a shower
Drip drop dew mornings
Don't sleep on me like comas
Consuming beats down to the bone
I sip the marrow for a bonus

I am clean like an infants first wash no rap sheet
Walking thru the market
Like shouldn't food be free
Didn't God give us the same control he gave Adam and eve
I am sorry my mind at times goes on a spree
A spree of thoughts
My brain is heavy plus it kicks bass drum
My thoughts run miles
I need pennies for my thoughts
Must be properly endowed

Watch what you eat fool check your food
Fool check your spoon
Food poison
Nasty now you vomiting fluids flowing a fountain
To that server you should have watched how you spoke
Face timing yourself
Seeing your mouth move
Saliva crashing into the coast of your tooth
Yuck images social products
Dislike that dislike you
Keep it true
Tom sawyer and Huck
Instafriends
On instagram
Madoff money instascam


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