the time we spend
on sorting trivialities
one should not always
see as wasted
it can be a reprieve
or an escape
from life‘s important questions
that tend to overwhelm us
now and then
solving our little problems
helps us establish
the much-needed illusion of order
in our life
to tackle bigger questions
i have been taking a
of how to fry my brain
and waste my eyes
like wasted wine
it takes some time, but i'm sure that-
oh, the timer rang
i didn't hear the last time
there it goes again
it seems louder now, now that i know i hear
but it's late, it's too late
and i'm alone
so of course it seems loud now
would it hurt to ignore
if i already did before...?
Everything still exists,
and will continue to exist.
Every ruin, illegible or destroyed or altered
Not alive, but present.
we have heritage sights and landfills.
History is a Waste of our time.
It sticks like tar
in the Earth’s lungs.
I stood before the Great Pyramids
and I wondered if my
great grandchildren’s great grandchildren
will do the same when
our past stacks as high
There are more stinky love poems than anything else.
Even I have written too many
Even I have written 1, sometimes, 2 full pages
But soaking the paper with tears.
Some go different, go joyful
Because love is easy to write about
It is the most powerful emotion only equal to hatred
Yet the most boring;
Unless it comes with anything attached
I yawn at those pesky stanzas of repeating gibberish.
Those who vainly describe love itself are cowards
Those who read them morbidly curious
And those who enjoy weak of mind,
For inftuated poems are the equivalent to a pop song
easy to construct
easy to deconstruct
easy to marvel
easy to cry at
easy easy easy
nothing new nothing learned
'O the perfect skin', 'O the glittering eyes', 'O the cheeky smile',
If you want to write about love put some mustard into it
And make it real
Don't waste my time, all lovers are marvelous I get it,
But what scars do they have?
And how many do they leave us with?
Seems like just yesterday,
You begged me for another chance yet you waste it away.
I shouldn’t put my trust in you,
Knowing that you'd never cherish everything that we’ve been through.
How could I be so blind?
Oh you played me;
Like a fool, I had been falling for your lies.
Not gonna be your toy no more
I’m done playing with your games, now I’m walking out that door.
Boy, I don’t need your love no more because it was never once true
And now, I’m already over you.
I’ve had enough this time, I’m walking away.
Ive been choking
On all the words I've had to eat.
Dining on each failed attempt at perfection
And still haven't gotten to the meat.
Will I just repeat, repeat?
Will I sit in the same seat and accept I'm
Meant to turn cheeks
Until the back hand that beats me decided to cease?
I haven't known true love
Unless love is walking out and burning bridges, the very bridges that can bring me back to town.
My growing understanding of life
leaves me with more questions than answers and my dearest wisdom, is to admit that I'm weak.
Idle peace talk cuts deep.
When I know it's not what you mean.
Bowing out gracefully.
But where was that grace for me?
Been Suffocating in my sleep
I'm drowning in my dreams
Let me think this was me
When I woke up your hands were choking me.
I can't make sense of the bitterness and spite of those who have taken my mistakes and used them as a way to use my back to rest their knives.
I lost my fire to a passing wind and left my ghost in the shell of my passion. If I should find it again, I must ask then:
What do I do with the remnants of broken glass when I've held on so long my hands have gone numb? I stared through at my clear path and couldn't see the blood dripping from my hands.
So while I sleep I'll let your love slip your vines around me. Take me to the garden,
Bound my hands and tie me to this great tree, this great tree that was once just a weed.
I fell so fast but you weren't the branch that saved me, but instead you broke my fall and set me free.
Suffocating in my sleep
I'm drowning my dreams.
Lost the strength to breathe.
Fingers crossed this is the death of me.
So where are we when all you speak is a prerecorded message stuck on repeat?
Once you wake from your dreams will you see that you've burned the very bridge beneath your feet? My heart longs for love but the love you hold is like that of a vase.
Once a flower begins to wither, you cut it out and have it replaced.
Here's a toast to the lives you'll save.
A toast to all the things you chase.
Here's a toast to image you embrace
And to the God you've grown to dismiss and show distaste.
Here's to the end of me.
Here's to your dreams.