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a troubled little wisp of waxy death   punches from my lips
(is it the exhaust   from many thriving microorganisms ?)
there it is   a clearly visible tiny cloud formation
(is this an indication?... the breaking down my over ripened form ?)
married also is its appearance  in the bathroom mirror
(confirmation that   it is no illusion)

i was quite casual about the event (thank you)
but not enough
              to stop me noting it here ;
call it   'the death weather report'
it shall be journaled further
i already feel observed
   as though by some bored student mortician
Jeremy Betts Jan 30
My thoughts
They can get scary
It's threats, more often than not, not empty
It's hard to convey what they say
They whisper a fray of cliche self hate with 41 years to work it's way to this level of decay
It's all consuming, engulfing then removing positivity 'til it's so scarce I'm left to pretend mostly
A sparse landscape of depravity naturally
Clear cut to make way for the fear factory
The soul fractures, now solely fear so to ward off lonely I let it stay
Not knowing how to play
Leaves me in the dark on what's at play

My thoughts
They aren't worth a penny
My two cents is free
I'd pay you to take them all completely
Is there a chance it gets messy?
Abso-freakin-lutely
But oh what a hero you could be
Imagine it up on a marquee, shining brightly
"Some dumb fuuck, a heros story"
(A family movie)
I'll be the monkey in the middle, come meet me
Come greet me and see purgatory, my state of temporary suffering and predetermined misery
What I'm forced to portray is only done cause I must obey or pay some ******* up penalty
Knowing I am the game and the prey, feeding a self-righteous gluttony
How much more do you want from me?
How much more must I contort for thee?

©2024
Ren Sturgis Dec 2023
I feel like I'm withering away in decay as the world slowly crumbles around me
I'm not the only one
Others are fading too
Some faster some slower
It's not a race against each other but against time itself
How much time do I have left to be complete
I've never been the whole puzzle just random bits and pieces
What kind of vision could I create in this chaos
A collage of eternal suffering
Or an epiphany of everlasting utopia
Zywa Oct 2023
Nothing goes to hell

with a big bang, it always --


happens with moaning.
Poem "owner's response" - 1651 statement from the Khoi-leader Autshumao, to Jan van Riebeeck (2011, Ronelda Kamfer)

Collection "Human excess"
irinia Oct 2023
we fall, we run, we chase, we hide
make plans and make believes
we force our roots to ignore the cycles of decay
we fill our bodies with rush and dismay
we love and we are ready to die all
the symbolic deaths that ignore the traffic lights
just to just to just to just to
avoid the unbearable pain of being alive
Andreas Peter Sep 2023
Breath comes
Slow
and
Harsh
Through a filter of
Tar and
age
Comes faster, unbidden unbound un
invited
I stood, days of old and told myself
I
was. done.
Breathing, tar.
I guess
Tar, still holds an ember
In, my, chest.
Cigarettes to provide company at unrest
Zywa Aug 2023
The underworld is

close at hand: ****, poo and junk --


slimy and rotting.
Poem "Besök i närmaste undre värld" ("Visit to the nearest underworld", 1982, Lars Gustafsson)

Collection "Specialities"
Carlo C Gomez Aug 2023
sonic
bridge,
seismic
convulsions

a desert for us and them,
you can do many things with a blank canvas
--maelstroms, blaze dispersions

a line allows progress, a circle does not,
infiltrates the surface,
flashes into steam

our red cathedral,
our furnace lake,
the promised land in spiritual drought

this catatonic
heaven, a thirst for something more
Zywa Jun 2023
It is super thin,

the gold leaf that will survive --


the iconoclasm.
Collection "Blown sand"
Zywa Jun 2023
Decaying leaves, wet,

cold, and *****, but a bed --


for shiny chestnuts.
Collection "Different times"
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