#thru
how do i witness these seasons again,
without you, the one who changes them.
Oct 19, 2020
Oct 19, 2020 at 3:31 AM UTC
Absent Motility Against Staid Inertia
impossible to describe listlessness
bedeviling this body electric aye attest
motivation to counter glumness
seizes motility temporarily
to stave off staid purposeless at best,
yet aware poetic obfuscation chest
barely delineates fierce hopelessness
assailing me,
when'r awake and/or at everest
feeding melancholy feedback loop
sparring against faintest
momentum - writhing psyche,
asper an unwelcome guest
emotional friction
bringing motionlessness,
where lunging futility
summoning ability
to muster joie de vivre
defeated willpower
no matter mental health
propped up
with pharmacological medications
prescribed by Doctor George Adams be hest,
yet tis NOT suicide, but general malaise
as if poison (or stung by a scorpion) jest
permeates thy being
sparking existential angst
hoop fully communicating figurative soffits
facilitating emotional bulwark lest
ye **** sitter
this lix spittled chap messed
up in the head, but also that empty nest
syndrome - aa bird den, and nefarious pest
disallowing merrily rowing my boat
subjected to turbulence that doth wrinkle
space/time continuum quest
punctuating any attempt
to take fig yurt heave Newtonian rest
without being assailed
of drab quotidian predictability
re: envious papa
towards daughters adventurous lives
he rejoices (albeit vicariously)
respective lives where offspring lasso lassitude,
viz both their electric kool aid acid test
how fate didst in vest
waning wily woebegone zest!
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 12:52 PM UTC
All my life I'd been starving.
This world offered me feasts after
Feasts but it seemed that even if
I swallowed the whole Earth
I'd still hunger.
One day a witch approached me
Promised me a magic sack,
That with the right nourishment,
Wouldn't ever empty
'Till I die.
All she asked for in return
Were descriptions of dishes.
Their taste, shape, smell, in detail.
For she can only eat
This way.
And so I complied with it, gratefully.
She casted charms, ordered me to eat:
"Just open your mouth, it's there."
Feeling groggy, I reached.
I felt it.
So marvellous, juicy, so fresh.
I praised that new found piece of flesh.
She smiled. "Dig deeper", she prompted.
So I'd broken my jaw,
Ecstatically.
Then licked the blood off my chin,
It was sweet and sour, just served.
How much further must I dig
For this feast's main course?
My beating
Heart.
Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 9:14 PM UTC