We are absurd
You and I
Fragments
 
We have created a fermentative reality,
Where words are symbols of relation
That you and I falsify
 
And Bingo was his name-o!
 
Ah!
 
Oh holy onomatopoeic jargon
 
What do you mean?
And how shall we bargain?
 
And mora is but a half step to a whole
 
Eek gad!
 
January Febuary March and April
May I introduce you to June and July
August, Sept Oct Nov Dec
 
Randomly systemized organs organized
Abstract or… dissonant?
But who is in charge?
 
12345
12345678
12345
12345678
 
12344
12344556
12344
12­344556
 
“Why so serious?” said The Riddler
Mellow dramatic
Melodrama
Melancholy
 
 
Pantomimes!
Pantomimes EVERYWHERE!
They are able to speak
But alone I mime, “Do you have the time?”
 
Together we fall!
United I stand.
 
Backwards
Upside down
Inside out
And grammar
 
What’s in a name?
Please don’t be lame
Sarcastic and the glamour
 
Synonymous nonsense
Homophones and nyms
Where are the polysemes?
In the antonyms
In the antonyms!
 
Repitition
Exclamation
Annunciation
tions…
 
verbage verbage verbage
syllables and such
meaningless meaning
defining definitions with such
 
True or False?
Hide and Seek
 
Ring around the rosy
We all fall down…
We all fall down.
 
Black hat, white shoes, and I’m red all over.
 
Salt
Sour
And bitter
And dill
And
And
And
And
And
And
Ampersand
 
Institutionalized poetry
But I am for rhythmic prose!
No, not you
Listen to the hue
that the colors protrude
red green blue
red green blue
 
Black is not a color
Chrome is my favorite
I will not believe otherwise
 
You are an alien.
I have divided by zero
Musical dissonance
*(asterisk)
A beautiful disaster
A shadow without its owner
Wild natured wilderness
And naturally a wildcard.
 
**** **** **** **** ****
Etcetera.

Knowing that history repeats itself
and to define a fool is also repitition
Theres madness stacked in minds of many on a shelf
mankinds unordinary fatal condition

Our generation is falling
while temporal worldy attainment rises
Technology renewed us into babies, crawling
to the new updated components that buys us

So blend up the world and fit it in your cup
i hope you choke on the faithless future that fuels you
Dont get out of bed dont wake up
when you dont know how to

The spirit of this race was depleted
when the disease of identities was treated

Devo says,
"We must repeat"
and so it goes
day in and day out
same old, same old
but we know better
actually
because change occurs
moment by moment
and everything
changes,
although it seems
the same.

Things that **** me
Only thrill me.
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust,
Drinking in the hopes that my bones
May begin to rust.
It may be a little crazy,
But I like to see the cuts.
Shoot me shoot me
For the ****,
I know its deadly
To take these pills.
Mirror mirror
Can't you see?
All I am
Is killing me

My deepest regrets
And most woeful sorrows
Are drowned away
And swept beneath
The sands of time
The fleet of moving, non-stop moving

To live in the moment
Is to feel to weightlessness
The thoughts moving in and out of your head
Like traffic jams and the ocean waves

Nothing can stop you
No nothing can
If you just keep in mind
That everything goes
Just as it comes
Keeping form is not the way that anything works

Keep it positive
The mental negatives
My prerogitive
Is to stay positive
Oh I'm positive
I'll be positive
Until the negative
Tries to take it away
But it'll never win
No, it'll always lose

What is there to do?
Sleep, awakened by alarm.
Go to class.
Pay attention.
Notes.

Now it's time to work!
Clock into your demise.
Eight hours later,
going home.
Tired.

Now I have to study.
Finals are coming up
Worried about grades.
Homework *****.
Done.

Now it's late at night,
I need to sleep.
Distractions, texting, games.
Finally asleep.
Relaxed

Wake up and do it all again.

It's beautiful, the red,
dripping down my arm.
Joining and splitting,
like a river with many divides.
It's all I see.
No matter where I look,
it's there.
The beautiful red.
It seeps down through the water,
turning the light blue into a dark, dark pink.
My life's pain and worries slipping away.
Finally it stops.
And I clean it.
Then another dream of nightmares comes into reality.
And everything starts over.

The alarm clock rings
and once again
the rooster sings
the morning new.
Slumbering flowers
lift their petals to drink
the drops of dew.
  Reliable Sun
vanquishes the darkness
as he lightens the sky.
  I see an honored guest
is in the garden,
his tiny nametag reads... butterfly.

       But on the other side of town
       someone struggles with
       addiction.

 Habits grab hard,
break will powers  in two.
The will becomes won't
and the power is all through.
Satiated,
temporaneously satisfied.
only till the next time the habit has to be gratified.
The victim moves on trying to reassemble his day
Avoid
a crooked roaded relapse,
along the way.

Oh ghost of the host why must repitition repeat the most
and feel so good in its continuation?
Why must familiarity breed the need
for more familiar feelings?
To the point of killing control, sealing a fate,
dealing defeat,
stifle healing.

     If your out there guardian soul, spirit helper, what's your roll, your goal? 
 Guiding with helping hand or let stand the habitualized
habit man.

Isn't there  a self preservation station within?
A gland or impulse control button to switch from sin to win?

Even Edgar Allan Poe stubbed his toe on a ten step program trying to get in the door.
Ill-begotten and craven, drunken and unshaven cried the raven...never more.

Guiding spirit it ends here!         

No more slave to the crave
or impulse picking from the addiction tree.
The need to repeat and repeat
the pattern becomes a self fulfilling prophesy.

Back to normalacy, complacency,
it's a moderation that one seeks.
To enjoy the ****** of bells, hallalulah wails,
a babies dimpled cheeks.

Can you do that Spirit helper, please.
Let sing the bodies vibration.
 No more internal damnation.
No more self flagellation.
Allow to draw power from these words.
Think of this all as an intervention!

I didn't want to be
like my mother's, mother

The one who took the slaps in silence
wore the bruises like tattoos

Swallowed the bitter medicine
of her husbands unfaithful affairs

I didn't want to be
the obedient housewife

the one that carried fear and love in her apron
and often got the two confused  

I didn't want to end up that way
Cutting a smile onto my face

stitching each apology into my skin
to keep count

*I didn't want to end up this way

My skin and bones have seen better days,
but I am not asking for your sympathy.
I block out the noise, still aware of the whispers.
Eyebrows creased like my stretch marks,
I want to forget what it's like to have a body.
Instead, see me for my spine
because although it is bent,
it is not broken.
It's just another thing to mend.
Cracked, twisted, and stepped on.
Justifying my hate with forgiveness,
my mirror is used to the repitition.
Finding solace in substances,
I was beautiful before the world told me different.
If only I would've seen that
before the harm was dealt.
Oh, to be faceless
in a room of familiar faces.

the thing about a
bad record on repeat is
after a while you start
to like it.

finite rapture
well defined. organized
organelles squirming. spurning
unnecessary imposition. repitition
severing me further.
it's still a bright fixture on the horizon
viewed at the far end of winding tunnel of mirrors.

captured in a jar. admired ideas
appreciated from afar.
trembling extended hand retracted.
strong stiches binding. scabs still crusty.
musty attics, shuffling feet.
melting.
swelltering in the possibility
of a potential interpreted properly.

I work better as an idea
than a human.
compose the tune and I'll be the words.
transpose your soul, I'll be the vibrations.
speak between the lines.  I will be blinded.
Beyond thought.
we are aware that we're unaware.

Crystalize.  Mezmerize.
It could be so simple.
To notice the cheeks, but not the dimples.
Four perfect points of light  linger in the shadows
two by two
Ideals. a concrete truth.
Glaciers slowly crack foundations.
Pounding. Pouding.
Resounding. Cannot be ignored
before I am the boomerang
that cracks you on the head.
Blood pooling at the base of my skull
control watered down.
Concrete giving into stress
and a flower has room to bloom/