#posthumous
the view
stands beneath
the carousel efforts
to blast through
impregnancy aBLOOM!!!!
(w)ith feral legacies
aligned intimately ornately
posthumous adulterer
awakens in need
of
****** corrective agency
towards Fenitbow
and Glightrovee ab-surd as
qua as qua
asqua aqua qua
a^s is trite melody infer[no]
t a x i yellowing each pavement
by truth in yo ' fa ' ' lo ((lo))
i by horns and turns
in plyable waves arrest
what justice juices
freel_y
obligatory
antecedent
quai noyh thlume
ye
HEaVY
Sep 26, 2020
Sep 26, 2020 at 6:17 AM UTC
Yes.
I am an anchor
the heavens tug at the end of my rope,
And one day they'll lift me
and rip me apart
and take of their cloak
and sing...
"We are smoke, and the clown,
and the talk of the town,
And if you so choose
We can take you back down
To revel and writhe
amidst the hopeful and meek
But we hoped to have you
hang here for a week,
To be in explosive awe
Of infinite abandon,
To be with the all
like a puddle to stand in
To feel all the mud 'tween your excellent toes
To know of the source from which everything grows,
To see all the light from which everything glows,
To be all of the ways that everything goes,
To know of the earth,
And of humanity,
Yet be in the throes..."
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 9:07 AM UTC
There once was a man who wrote poetry
Which alas was not read that widely.
Until, that is, he passed away
And became the talk of the day;
Lauded, albeit posthumously!
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 4:02 AM UTC
when I say the wind blows
you already know
but how do the leaves portend
emerald on the end
or grasping to the limb?
If the Love is Lost, when?
feelings were ample
yet, when unplugged they limp lame
sentiment in lieu of visceral slanguage;
Who needs a Heart when a record can be Broken?
i think therefor iThoughts
Depress into cracked lead
and bled red into inkwell;
gun shots have more potent stocks
tragically hip to be so square ingots
what gracious melodies and languid lives
battered idioms with only one just is to bear
how Sad their flirtatious Ness affair
with Pain must fin' ish and putrefy,
those believers in Death will die
hail a Hashtag worthy of
Octothorp
for phoenixes are found everyday
prostrate your Poetry for posthumous
consumption
apply the alembic of alteration
and
Heal our Hashtag heathen history
or
**** It
Hate the Hashtag
that's Life!
#love #life #sad #pain #depression #thoughts #death #sadness #heartbreak #lost
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 8:28 PM UTC