We live in a Universe populated by billions of dazzling stars. Enveloped by the unfathomable depths of the night I wonder, How can life be just this when there's all that. So much monotony in a universe of possibility.
Life tastes of old bread and long-opened chips. A haggard breath hanging in the heat. A swollen tongue lolling and sticking to the roof of your mouth getting in the way of lazy words that seek to dash the doldrums. Sometimes the gaze of life is piercing and sometimes (now) it is donut holes iced over and left out overnight and then left out overnight again. The muted voice of an underwater murmurer muttering into cotton-filled ears something half-hearted and uninteresting. Life is umami for dessert after a gluttonous feast and never have I so craved the bright citrus peal of an orange.
I got tired of filling my gas tank Seeing fences around fields Driving a decaying highway I woke up to the sound of a lawnmower I thought about the grass How it never gets to grow I got tired of filling my gas tank Just to go no where with you Listening to apathy echo From minds I never could change I thought about the yesterdays How I never got to grow.
What is there to write, when inspiration has seized? When the words that I utter sound like dull clichés, As I paint with monotonous black and white shades? I seek meaning from the ashes of a dead flame.
When it seems that melancholy favors me, and Spirits of joy neglect my soul, left to live in grave Solitude, whilst I see others possessed of joy, Inebriated through the potent power of love.
That the tree I tend now a fruitless wicked snag And with the path I take now comes its deathly end Be the reason of such remorse and dejection, This I abhor, with powerful opposition.
An even older poem... sheesh i was 13 :| Mar 14 2018