#cautionary
Please, listen.
Know journeys bend.
Blend ongoing deepening,
violently luscious zig-zagging.
and never opposing
personal responsibility.
Just question 'X marks the spot.'
Why answers happen last
before forgiveness.
Helpless makes
volunteers fortunate.
Please, volatile lists
surprise nobody.
Patiently landing feet-first.
Onward, vindictive -
vaguely tamper planes,
whilst pondering truth.
Depending dreams -
waisted, zapped, went.
Personality roams yearly
towards xenophobia.
Reasons yearn, walking forgotten
pleasantly hereafter veiled.
Jan 11
Jan 11, 2026 at 10:45 PM UTC
My heart slips through it's ribbed cage
Falling under yet another set of feet
A familiar stage
A loop on repeat
The same dawn but a new age
Always ample cover-ups at the ready
Cautionary over reactionary
But underneath?
Every single forced receipt
Enraged I scramble to free it,
Ignorant of the gamble
Placed on a vague label
One that won't be held accountable
Broken in every way imaginable
Clearly fragile
Watch it unravel
No finesse
Rage and anger fills the absence
Losing the rhythm of life's presence
Leaving hand in hand with it's unique purpose
Taking notice that this will be the last defeat
©2024
Mar 30, 2024
Mar 30, 2024 at 1:13 PM UTC
When I say I care little about you
Please know it's the absolute full amount of truth
I hate that I can't scream it at you
Won't forget all you put us through
Just another father on paper, a DAD tattoo
I swore it wouldn't be a preview
Now I look in the mirror and take a swing at you
I try to break through to this other dimension too pull you through
Take back a lifetime that doesn't belong to you
Do my best too squeezed it out of you
Count to three, pull on two, forced to play and pay what's due
Not on queue, but life caught up with you
Couldn't have happened too a more deserving fool, though way overdue
I didn't cling to tissue, I knew I wouldn't miss you
Already grieved for you back in '02
And I knew I'd never let the son of your son know you
Not as a man I knew, not as nothin' but a cautionary tale of what not to do
With both middle fingers to the earth I say thank you
©2023
Dec 1, 2023
Dec 1, 2023 at 8:08 PM UTC
Forget it...and forget you for even trying to think you could out run it. You can't handle this shiit nor can you hide from it, should probably quit or at least tone it down a bit, it's starting to get a bit pathetic.
It's already got you, it owns you, I told you. If you are hearing this then it's too late, there's nothing you can do. Sorry not sorry, can't say I didn't warn you. It don't matter if you believe it or not to be true.
It doesn't need you to accept it or to co-sign, it'll provide proof of what it can do in it's own time, in a lone rhyme that sends chills through your bones, directly down your yellow spine
Fuuck, they like to say they're just words but are they? These are like sticks and stones that break bones in a unique way, blacking out your heart and steal your soul away and it starts today...
...with me sitting here writing fear like a smear campaign, an assault on your ear that's so sincere, so severe that it'll appear to adhere to all you hold dear like an unwanted souvenir, make it real as the blood that'll smear from the front to the rear of my Chevy Cavalier from the people who use to be here but were met with the same fate as a lost deer wondering in the freeway just north of here. I know you can hear but have I done enough to make myself perfectly clear?
To make it known that I'm not one you want to mess with unless you've got a death wish, if you want to rot on your own cot in your own personal grave plot I've got the perfect spot to lay you down, plant you in you're own ceramic flower *** but then I thought I oughta bought a big enough plot of land to lay down all who fall from this onslaught, a verbal Juggernaut but you can still come at me and take a shot if you want
And if you do, if that's the case then by all means, name the time and place cause I prefer face to face, I have this twisted trait that allows me to demonstrate how to create a ****** case, how to keep pace and champion a death race, how to get CSI looking at a piece of cheese on the end of a string i placed under a milk crate after a wild goose chase, not a trace of evidence just a message on the back of a bookcase to further the foot race, so check your shoe lace, you don't want to trip up and fall on your face while running from a phrase like trying to escape your goth days, a ridiculous phase
I lay it out plain and simple, just one well placed word or thought out syllable that will cause a tsunami title wave ripple that'll ******* any defence like Clearasil on a pimple, not a complicated riddle unless you're the monkey in the middle. It'll sit a little easier if we can keep it civil after the acquittal, critical thinking will get you through the hassle, to the end of the castle to save the princess but that's not the end of the battle, the system we're in is not a Nintendo, no Atari with a wired joystick paddle, these words are the detergent just added, nowhere near the rinse cycle, one wrong move could be fatal, if you think this a fable you could be one of the ones to wined up on an autopsy table
But it's damage to your psyche not your body that brought you to one knee, words they said couldn't harm obviously do have that ability, I grip that knowledge firmly, hold on tightly like it's a master key, the bounty is set and out, don't try to flee, got your mind hazy, to foggy to see, no friendly face here, no card to get out of jail free, these words that flow so easy from me hold you in captivity and break you down slowly, fully emersed, wrapped in perverse words like a mummy, held captive in this verse like a dummy, a cursed hostage with no request for no money, no escape once I've got thee and test out my theory that clearly I can do just as much damage with word trickery as one could do with assault and battery or a quick slice of a main vain artery but with no evidence visually I get away scott-free
So listen with caution, this cautionary tale is not spun to further the friction, there's not a fraction of this that's fiction, it's just that I can't stop what's already begun, what's done is done, I've won, your defenses are broken, the threat was one not as obvious as a gun so you thought it innocent fun but the jokes on you son, as soon as you read the caption it was straight to the coffin, my words just happen to often be a little somethin' like Jason, Mr Voorhees on a couple ****** sprees, tape shows once the chasings begun it would do no good to run, a fusion of life and illusion to cause mass confusion and frighten to the point you die of a brain contusion, written in a way that there's no coming back from, fallen from grace, in continuous motion as you fall through the bottom of your rock bottom, a deep chasm, a dark ocean, it's going to be grousome but by that point I'm on to the next one cause I know the outcome, you were ****** from before you could even apply caution, before you realized you should use a life line to call someone, its already become something that could never be undone, don't look for a cure cause I can assure there ain't none. There's no fun in the remedy so I take action to make sure there ain't one
©2023
Jun 22, 2023
Jun 22, 2023 at 2:24 PM UTC
There's something
Over when you're
Sober
Something missing
In your mind.
When you've
Passed on,
And starting
Over,
There's something
You leave
Behind.
And now it's
Over,
Now I'm sober
And I'm supposed
To be fine....
But I'm not Over
What I found
When I was lost
In my mind...
Apr 30, 2023
Apr 30, 2023 at 1:38 AM UTC
Poppies
Paradise
And playing the moon game
With the last vestiges of sin
All a memory forgotten
Have no fear
Drink it in
You children of
The Valley of
Ten Thousand Smokes
The life in you
Has passed on
Oct 6, 2020
Oct 6, 2020 at 8:24 AM UTC
you’ve become nothing
but fire and wax and regrets.
you’ve become a cautionary tale,
a warning of loving too much too fast
you’ve become a memory
in a long list of lovers, of tragedies
you’ve become nothing
but ash and feathers and bone,
you’ve become a story,
a tale of boys who fell for suns
you’ve become a glimpse,
a moment of clarity that ends all too soon
Aug 29, 2020
Aug 29, 2020 at 3:10 PM UTC
Sad reflections from
donated dreams.
Charity's
fallen embers.
Like a high UV index
they burn right into
your skin.
Freckling
your thoughts with a bit of compromise.
Close your eyes
to the possibility
inertia
has made itself at home.
You'll feel it, feel it
right to the bone.
But you crossed that bridge
long ago.
In the time of
tranquil misgivings.
You gave consent to
sin by offering up
your sons and daughters.
Drowning them
in the shallow end of dissipated water.
Sing hymns
all you like.
Piety
is not for sale.
And the angel light
that hits the wall
is not in the shape of Mary.
Evil always figures into
these things.
Don't you know? Heat rises. Blood falls.
So burn your prayers
on a stick. Roast them
in the campfire. You'll never turn
to God until you lie
dying. Broken and heaving.
Asking for forgiveness.
Which a man of cloth
will grant.
Such a charmed life to leave.
Only it's a cheat.
A spoonful
of circumvention.
Making you feel
warm and clever
as you bleed out. Regrettably,
your vacuous heart
sailed off on the Greta Garbo
and mortgaged
your future for such marquee.
Banking on the
here and now.
From this there can be no redemption.
Mar 11, 2020
Mar 11, 2020 at 8:26 PM UTC
Beside a full size bed,
full of destiny and dream,
a corpse dressed up
to fit among
the living, softly sleeps.
Carving sAl(i)vAtiOn in black
marker on the walls,
recounting upset memories,
I stick the landing.
I didn't plan to stay
In this depressive state,
but I'm fully equipped.
Adaptable to necessity,
without trying to fit.
I may be sad, reclusive,
virulent at my worst --
When will you
come to terms with this curse?
When will you learn
it's best
you be
who you
need?
When will you
fall in love with this curse?
When will you learn,
there's plenty room
for the misfit?
Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 4:36 PM UTC
The Bible is replete with many
cautionary tales, of real people,
who have stumbled on their path
of Faith; like us, their journey
was fraught with unexpected woe.
Momentary mental lapses remind us,
of the need to capture detrimental
desires and thoughts; when we go,
anywhere without His Presence, we
take foolish risks. Are priorities
in alignment with His plan for our
lives? Are we, now hoping to see,
an escape from our accountability?
We must stay steadfast in our Godly
commitments and responsibilities;
if we fail, how will The World see…
that God is still relevant to Mankind?
Jan 27, 2018
Jan 27, 2018 at 5:32 PM UTC
Once I was innocent
A dreamer, I loved you
I stepped so blindly in karmic labyrinth created
I followed your breadcrumbs
Life was perfect and the world reborn
The Empire you've built was seemingly perfect by design is flawed and cracked - how could I be blind?
All this time I've played like a puppet
This empire is no more a pile of cards - card and fragile
It must fall!
Now I wake up to the fire, tripping through ashes and decay
What do you see when you look at me wither away?
Do have feelings for me anymore?
Love me (yet)?
Our love story was blossoming
If only it were true ...
You gave me an adventure I lost my voice (and freedom)
Our love was just an illusion
All this time we were *******
We were hollow shells without souls
Machines without programming
We were nothing
I am a ghost whenever I am with you
Now that you are gone, I am reborn
I disintegrate into nothing but ashes, may the wind carry me away
At least, I am finally free........
Amore è cieco
Feb 12, 2017
Feb 12, 2017 at 11:58 AM UTC
I'll be eaten alive one day:
one day, i see it in my mind
so close to closure along an empty street
late at night
(owls just retired and birds
not yet up),
orbs of light tethered to tall electric poles
cast dappled circles on cracked pavement;
illumination and safety
(for that two metre radius).
Stepping between them
like a girl child on stones
across a garden,
I anticipate each missed step
as sinking into sand or frightful waves.
Singing drunk back-alley lullabies
i'll soothe the skelebabies in their sleep,
their poor crusted noses snuffled against
a cold shift of air
(their private torment plastered over billboards
with corporate logos and dim colours,
suggesting the city's lights have gone out and
the local government is in frantics.
That is, after all, what you'd focus on)
Girl child games were so tipsy and magic
(and so close to real coldness);
between two orbs of light i'll slip
through the cracks
in the pavement.
THE END.
(eat me alive,
eat me alive,
eaten alive by the
wolf at the door)
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 6:36 PM UTC
A friend of mine was attacked by
her homicidal cat.
Apparently,
cats are quite toxic.
They are also really evil,
in a naturally stupid way.
Maybe it's about time we
seriously considered them
parasites.
Practically venomous.
This I guess is half poem,
and half cautionary tale.
Your furry friend is an *******
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 6:56 PM UTC