I am in a terrifying tug-of-war
With time
There's an excessive amount of gore
And grime
While time continues to make ground
Pulling gradually until I'm down
I can only lengthen this glorious game
Yet the outcome is always the same

No matter how much I resist
I exist
Allow me to flash my existential credentials
I'm here
I'm alive
I fear
I will die

When existence is the only requirement
Everything else is a possibility
Dependent on our capabilities
And trying to wisely pick our life's priorities
That naturally give way to our inferiority

I didn't insist
To exist
With clenched fists
In this murderous mist
That slowly slits my wrists
So what do I do
In this zigzag zoo?
Hopefully spend time with you

there were
shadows
that fought
for the right to
exist
descended off
the stairwell
fell into
the frostlake

and it continues.

before
they struggled
in the dark
then,

everything's gone.

He lumbers, he doesn't sashay.
Aware enough to catch a 'think-fast' pass.
He's an analog man, and not a soothe-sayer.
He was a zen buddhist, and a nudist whose wardrobe was air.
He always wanted kids but could never think of names.
His truth is so spreadable it's incredible
His credit's so meddled with it's debtable.
He moves peanuts under walnut shells,
less talented than critical.
With passion like the hypnotized
limits were his starting lines
He was never very impressed with things,
would say 'ignorance doesn't exonerate’—He broke alot of hearts and earned alot of parking fines—‘Income doesn't make the man' unless its not coming in.
His only wish was for a time machine;
He could be ambassador to the past.
he could relive his endings
without missing anything

An undergraduate no more
I was once a student among many
and now I am a student amongst none.

Because there is an education bubble
and it exist at universities
where thought is something
to behold as it is so beautiful.

Instead of compassion
for the trivial pursuits of enlightenment--
there is cascades of sludge
and ooze of the repetitious awnings.
They line each other's minds
as they wander the parking lot of life.

Education becomes the Sun
and just like the Sun
when it becomes
so brilliantly bright one must look away,
because in contrast to the dimming bulbs bobbing around--
the radiance of knowledge
loses all it's light
when it's time
to join the 'real world'.

Sandra works the slots all day
Smoking cigarettes; taking free drinks
Feeding the bandits instead of her soul…
Knowing it's daylight, somewhere!
Ken throws craps; blackens the Jack
Winks sickly at the cocktail waitress
Imagines doing things way past his prime…
Knowing it's nighttime, somewhere!
Passing hours like their years
Bathed in sticky syrup distraction
Dismount stool, lurch; pin-***** pupils
They meet at the buffet; tepid, bland
As their vacation; their marriage
Mid-life shape shifting sand!

© pofacedpoetry – Billy Reynard-Bowness (2018) – All rights reserved

whisper your name
until it is meaningless.
shatter yourself on the stones,
sweep it up,
and mold yourself whole again.

this is existing.
this is engraving your soul
on the walls of time.
this is learning to

fall

but

not

to

crash.

I didn't believe you existed in the first place
But when you did
I had the crippling fear that you would not want me
To me, beauty and happiness were always incomplete
I didn't believe that salt water could damage paper
But when it did
It was though my eyes were true to life
Speaking words of sorrow yearning for you

Life is a dream.


In dreams’ we exist...


For in dreams...


We sense
      We see
We hear
      We feel
We taste
      We smell
We fear
      We love
We lust
      We loathe
We triumph
      We fail
We fall
      We climb
We fight
      We laugh
We cry
      We try
We run
      We stop
We hit
      We hug
We bite
      We kiss
We sleep
      We rest
We sing
      We scream
We are hopeful
      We lose hope
We gasp
      We breathe
We hold it
      We cherish it
We hold tight
      We let go
We remember
      We forget
We live
      We die


And it is life...


It really is…


It is reality...


We exist...


In dreams...


Awake!


©pofacedpoetry (2018) – Billy Reynard-Bowness – All rights reserved