"faulting" poems
why is it that i forgive so easily?
why do i always weigh intentions instead of faulting stupidity
when stupidity, that fickle fool
caused us such grave heartache
and for what
why is it that i forgive so easily?
and risk my feather heart
exposed
a brothel for sentiment
care murdered and never returned
screaming out to be ****** over
by another
time
after
time
why is it that i forgive so easily?
and allow anger to fade
lay waiting for recognition
discard all ammunition
and tell myself once more
that it is all worth it
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 4:08 PM UTC
I walk, I am a lone,
Limp feet lift upon dead ground
Left,
Right,
Onwards
I jest this failing body
Onwards towards what is the end
"I carry my weight"
"I carry my bones"
I wish to walk upon those before
This road of the dead,
Life,
Passing,
Rest
Is the only sombre thought,
But I walk on, I walk over,
I walk past upon those who
"Came before"
Billboards overhead, rest here
,Silence,
Peace,
Death
Is what waits upon those who
Stop,
I carry on never faulting.
Then that moment before, as all have stood,
"The end of the road"
"There is just barren land"
"This road of fallen"
"It is a road upon the bodies of the fallen"*
White tiles,
White dreams,
White bones
That my knees rest upon.
Tears of anger penetrate, for nothing,
As I succumb to this Road of death,
For I am but another few cobbles
For the next one too fall upon. To further this road,
This road of white covered in dust.
This road of hope within its white gleam.
"The road of death"
Has paved another slab on its
Passage to nowhere, but death.
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 6:57 PM UTC
Thunder birds
Feathers made of light
No crashing in the night
Heedless heals shatter the ground
Muskets silencing every warning
Thunder birds
Voices carry out songs
No silence in the oblivion
Hollowed breathing gasping oxygen
Bullets' sonic reverberations
Overpowering every whimpering
Thunder Birds
Witnessing every crime
No veils cloud the terror
Burning images through tears
Weapons of desolation spark
Smoke and fire to blind just eyes
With every burning desire
We were meant to love
But instead fell low
Construing our delirium
As if by predestined design
Without faulting the system
Facilitating issuance of our sickness
Restless voices trivialized
To demobilize their power
Appropriating oppression as ours
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 11:31 PM UTC
Shadows astute pierced by emotion
drowning in sorrow, deep in the ocean
Dramatic ideas cast returned
Cinder and ashes, all have burned
Wishes, dreams built in despair
count the blessings no more fare
Faulting my demons, sights unknown
Feeling inside, I'm alone!!
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 11:32 PM UTC
I await at the bridge of your nose
for you to kiss me.
I await at the nape of your neck
to feel the chills down your spine.
I have become accustomed to lonely,
even by your side.
I await the days to burn away
so loosely and never-ending.
I await for the bruises upon my mind
from trying to run away from my mistakes
to become temporary.
I burn and burn and burn away like those days
and I begin to feel the heat from where I lay.
Loose against the grain-
I am like the gravel amongst your feet
clinging to the soles of your shoes wherever you go
etched into your scraped knee as a child
bleeding and broken skin-
I am like the gravel always fleeting-
always in need of reparation
being made of stone and not just one particular kind
I am forever changing in size and faulting
when the lines become etched with tire tracks
I am the space in-between your fingers
lingering for the air to stop flowing through them.
I am your morning coffee-
even though you know how bad you should let go of me
you remember how it feels without me when you wake up
so you have to get another cup.
I am the window pain of your childhood summer camp-
caked with dead flies and the smell of pine
and the memory of the kid you once were.
I am pieces and faults and scars and addiction-
you tell yourself to stay away
even though in the morning you know you won't listen.
The air fades from between those fingers-
and the nape of your neck meets to have dinner
with the chill running down your spine
like it's late for a final exam.
You are anxiety-ridden and all determined
and I am the stone pebbles at your feet
patiently awaiting the return of your shoes
so I can be carried home.
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 3:16 PM UTC
There must be a scapegoat, a faceless soul we can blame
when events unfolding never crease the right way
there needs to someone to take the fall
for our shortcomings, failures, mistakes and flaws
let's name it timing
the outlandish ideal with a sort of silver lining
benefiting our dreams or disappointing based on your outlook at the second
placing our losses on timing's plate, so to us it remains indebted
the divine invention we haphazardly sink our faith towards
faulting opportunity for not opening closed doors
falsely accusing an innocent occurrence with words of curse in nature
we'll just chalk it up to poor timing, and bury it for later
the concept of allowing an unmovable force dictate our actions
selfishly choosing when the timing suits our satisfaction
poor timing, missing the chance of a unmatchable proportions
minimal effort to a particular cause turned twisted words contortions
to cleverly claim the culprit, when your very actions displayed a lack of determination
it's not the moment's patience
that forces your will to put the act in motion
yet we chalk it up to timing, a peculiar notion
a cloak of deceit and disbelief we wrap ourselves in, blaming an unworthy malefactor innocent as the sun is bright
so let's just call it poor timing, leaving our passion-less actions out of sight...
Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 11:54 PM UTC
I feel
Yes, I feel
That sometimes it is necessary to be cynical
There just comes that breaking point
Where you have to get out of your maddening mind
Face your own reflecting image in a mirror
And say those few words
Those few words that hold the truth
To your million faulting thoughts
"You're not as bad as you think you are, Gladys"
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 5:29 AM UTC
Reached in and picked a winner
from your box of stock phrases.
Finding ways
to roll zero on 2d6.
You fuckin' missed
**** the bed!"
I guess you're no Kenny Rogers.
Longer losing streaks familiar
to the wisdom of a betting man.
"Carpe Diem" on your calf,
laugh your way to the bank.
But put a stutter on your chuckle
'til the day they seize your wages.
If it "happens for a reason,"
fold your cards and hold your tongue in.
Hold your tongue and
clamp your teeth.
"What it is is what it is."
That's a "tautology."
They taught me that one in college,
when I took critical theory!
If you seek an explanation,
you're just critically faulting
on your dice rolls
and your debts.
Reached in and hit the bottom
of your box of stock phrases.
Finding ways
to keep afloat on empty words.
You fuckin' missed.
"Feeling blessed?"
Turns out you're no Kenny Rogers.
Longer losing streaks familiar
to the wisdom of a betting man.
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 6:51 PM UTC
*Standing, surrendering.
The weather tethers at my veins.
Pushing. Pulling.
My emotions run high with the hopes of a new sunrise.
Guide me,
show me,
lead me to the holy water you sip like its never ending.
Show me the truth behind every iris that passes my curious glance.
Breathe in this cold sterile air while we dream of something tangible...
Strange winds come on strong in the heart of the mislead, the outskirts.
We thrive on the untouched surfaces of the mind..
We breathe in the discomfort...
Seeking direction in the wake of misdirected affection.
Faulting to the backbone of habits.
Falling faster, I pause in the balance catching my breathe.
I inhale everything surrounding my mind.
Exhaling all my simple poisons.
A detox of wandering souls and singular holes.
Eating. Feeding. Breeding.
Filling all this space for all those after me.
Fill me.
Fulfill me.
Accept the darkest crevasses of this mind.
I still turn a silent shy cheek...
Drifting aimlessly into the empty serenity you present so pleasantly.
Once again I slide further from comfort and balance...
Feeding off any sense of insecurity.
Craving that whole duality of my circumstance...
I keep treading the muddy waters I choose.
My body gets trapped in the
sticky egos and messing misunderstandings,
in which everyone laughs away.
I'll schlep the dirt from my soul and shine light once more.
Exhausted and tried.
Ill shine...
It's lost in my own lost hope of withering dreams and lost star seeds.
It falls away in every cold shake I make within whiskey's withdrawal.
It fades away in the simple staggers I make and unfulfilled chances I take.
But, not all is lost.
I still keep this little light of mine.
I still let this light shine.
I'm just a little more aware of the spaces it awakens and the souls it helps take in.
It's ever shifting in this cosmic wake, it hides, it shies, it cries.
Like me, it knows when to pipe the **** down and listen to the world.
Listen to everything it allows.
It hears souls like you.
It feeds me.*
Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 2:10 AM UTC
Words bolt out but no ears hear,
Bending vowels of drained attention.
She smiles in racing blossom intervals,
the atmospheres of bending bludgeons.
But still I am in love with her, fool me.
He who talks without lips moving.
See the juvenile mouth extrapolating
to judgements faulting into aching.
I wonder, well sometimes I do think,
what fashionable jungle I'm to be?
After all, she finds life too busy
to wonder long about such as me.
Immobile with soundless ambition,
the rocks grow but not in splendour.
So this is how it must convert to action,
that she succeeds where I blunder.
Oh well, so that is how it will coexist,
with words drained and solitary existing.
"Be robust" I murmur to myself, with
heart closed and cognizance brooding.
"Goodbye, my former fellow traveller!".
I am off to request novel occupations.
You your way, and I, unhappily waving.
Exhalations the only sound which cheapens.
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 11:28 AM UTC
all people have ever done is hurt me-
I'm starting to think it's all my fault
and the only thing I'm good at
is letting people down.
I would love to drown my sorrows
in a whiskey bottle
and never wake up again-
but that part of me is dead.
The one who looks for escapes is gone now
and all I have left is raw emotion and coping
I'm not sure how to deal with either
when I've never really had to.
All my life has been spent repressing
everything in my wake
and now I feel as if it's all coming out-
everything that's ever made me sad
came flooding back when you left.
You're looking out at the window
to your life smiling and happy
when all I am left with is misery
and I thought I made you happy-
at least I tried my hardest to.
But it seems to me all I'll ever do
is let people down.
I push people away until I am left alone
and now I've never felt so lonely.
I've been trying to bandage this broken home
but putting into it my broken soul
and now there's no pieces to fill the cracks anymore
I am bleeding and faulting and withering away again-
there is no safe shaven for me
no peak I get to reach anymore
just me, broken and bleeding at the seems.
Nothing is ever as good as it seems
and I put on a hell of a facade.
But I'm even tired of that now..
Loving someone broken is hard
and all I've ever been is broken
and difficult and withering.
When will I flourish?
Maybe when someone remembers to water me.
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
I EAT A SUBOXONE FOR LUNCH
I THINK THAT IM GONNA THROW UP
THATS A LOVELY BUZZ AND SIDE AFFECT OF BEING FORCED TO GROW UP
I MISS BEING YOUNG IN SUMMER
ONLY TWENTY ONE & BUMMED OUT
ALWAYS SOMETHING WRONG & ITS MY FAULT I JUST KEEP FAULTING OUT
& ALL THE LOVELY LADIES THAT IVE LOVED JUST THINK IM CRAZY CUZ MY LOVE AROUND THE CLOCK THE LOVE THEY GIVE TO ME IS LAZY
& IT BREAKS ME, ALWAYS BREAKS ME, EVERY TIME IT FEELS THE SAME N IM ALIVE BUT DEAD INSIDE I GO OUTSIDE TO FEEL THE RAYS & I DISSOLVE
DONT WANNA BE INVOLVED
DESIRE TO EVOLVE I FEEL THE RAIN & CRACK A SMILE SYMBOLS INESCAPABLE
ALWAYS FALL, FOREVER FALLEN NEVER FALLEN FOR
I PLACE FLOWERS IN THE HINGES LATCHES OF YOUR LOCKING DOOR
& I KNOW THAT THEYLL PROLLY DIE YEAH YOU WONT EVER WATER THEM
BUT I JUST FIGURED MAYBE YOU MIGHT SMILE AT THE THOUGHT OF THEM
& IF I COULD CONTROL ALL THESE EMOTIONS I COULD CALL YOU FRIEND
IM SWEPT IN THE INTENSITY DEFENSLESS & A FALLEN MAN
Oct 9, 2016
Oct 9, 2016 at 5:23 AM UTC
5 seconds... 13 seconds... 25 seconds...
My God Ive never seen a clock move so slowly.
Wasting my time, wasting my short lifeline - ever so slowly wasting away my precious time.
****** let me out! I'm so constricted by these minutes.
Impaled by red second hands, tied up by the hours, hanging from a moment... Or maybe it's just the number 12.
Its so hard to tell from upside down.
Ticking clocks in my mind; never stopping, never changing, never faulting.
The blood starts to rush to my head, vision blurring to black and white, and then, I swear I felt it stop!
...
...39 Seconds... 46 seconds...53 seconds.
Oct 30, 2012
Oct 30, 2012 at 12:05 AM UTC
the best time in my life is when i sit alone in my room
playing guitar to the wall and singing in my untrained drone
in my flat american accent - the ringing of suburban middle-class
or reading obscure contemporary fiction novels and smoking ***
the best is when no one else is in the house
and it's just me enjoying this distant skin suit
existing in this world as an individual
just a brief vacation before returning to the eternal oneness
i exhale the sacred breath of life and begin to play guitar again
slowly learning how to play new songs and exploring rhythm
i'm the only person in my family who is interested in playing music
i taught myself guitar and am still struggling to understand scales
the best time in my life is when i sit in my room alone
thinking about beautiful women i wish i could know better
dreaming about how my life would be if i was cool
if i was interesting and able to break out of my shell
i imagine what it would be like if i had a social life
if i was interesting enough to develop a fascinating circle of friends
i've always wondered how people manage to break into social circles
navigating social climes is an art and one that i lack sensitivity in
the best time in my life is when i sit alone in my room
thinking deep about the universe and the reason for existence
letting out another breath then drawing in another
strumming repeatedly to bring ordered sound to the world
the best is when i have a great person on my mind
someone who inspires me to break out of myself
an ontological proxy by which i can compare myself
to see all how i am lacking and faulting
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 10:42 PM UTC
As the Sun rose up above my head,
I leave this land with much unsaid.
To pass the time was now my goal,
To live alone a broken soul.
Out of reach like the Sun and stars,
Round my head I'm chasing cars.
A burning flame’s secluded light,
Like the thought of you still burning bright.
In a heart black made of pain,
I still use your name to keep me sane.
Our time had passed and you moved on,
I still struggle to fathom that you are gone.
I walk the road in hope to find,
A reason in time to rest my mind.
But a dimming glow and faulting belief,
Leads my heart to find no relief.
I will push on with a budding need,
To learn and grow and nurture the seed.
I will succeed of that I've no doubt,
I will live and sing and dance and shout.
I have realised now I don't need you here,
But the thought of you still holds me dear.
I will move on with time I'm sure,
But a feeling like this has no cure.
Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 11:38 AM UTC
Standing, surrendering. The weather tethers at my veins.
Pushing. Pulling. My emotions run high with the hopes of a new sunrise.
Guide me, show me, lead me to the holy water you sip like its never ending.
Show me the truth behind every iris that passes my curious glance.
Breathe in the discomfort.
Seeking direction in the wake of misdirected affection.
Faulting to the backbone of habits.
Falling faster, I pause in the balance catching my breathe.
I inhale everything surrounding my mind.
Exhaling all my simple poisons.
A detox of wandering souls and self control
Fill me. Fulfill me.
Accept the darkest crevasses of my being
Drifting aimlessly into the empty serenity you present so pleasantly.
Once again I slide further from comfort and balance...
Feeding off any sense of insecurity.
Craving that whole duality of my progress
I keep treading the muddy waters I choose.
My body gets trapped in the sticky egos and messy misunderstandings.
I'll schlep the dirt from my soul and shine light once more.
Exhausted and tried, Ill shine...
Im lost in my own lost hope of withering dreams and lost star seeds.
I fall away in every cold shake I make within whiskey's withdrawal.
Fading in the simple staggers I make and unfulfilled chances I take.
But, not all is lost.
I still keep this little light of mine.
I still let this light shine.
I'm just a little more aware of the spaces it awakens and the souls it helps take in.
It's ever shifting in this cosmic wake, it hides, it shies, it cries.
Like me, it knows when to pipe the **** down and listen to the world.
Listen to everything it allows.
It hears souls like you.
It feeds me
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 6:11 AM UTC
some Catholic catharsis
and massively multiplying
paradigm shift;
do you fight the thought-flow?
through the catacombs
where you're nothing?
precipitate of participation
and attempted, forced, alliteration;
inconsistency, and in kind,
(and onward Christian solider,
play your cards right)
chomp the ******* maybe
out of context. always
throwing context; pseudo-
attempting contrast. scribblings
about the ancient gods.
random, fleeting, fancied-thought.
in an abstract field at night;
at nigh. to be repetitive, and
in dredging the past of words
long-since winded. when
is the cohesive era played-
through of these little uttered lives?
these faulting breathless lines?
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 4:26 AM UTC
What now with you is wrong
In vein you hide your shame
The shadows are long
Your chance near gone
To dive in and make your change
Our Dead Beat God
Has left this place
Tapered steel
still medicates
Pay for Death
is that a joke?
No I'm serious
I always speak of what my mind's eye sees
Religious nuts curse my reasonings
For Blasphemy they're Damning me
Forgetting & Unforgivingly
Faulting the rational sanity
The very god they praise
Hath Given Me
Faith separates the weak
From the beholders of the sun
Only those who've sought
Far from pages man has spun
May again become One
May 1, 2011
May 1, 2011 at 2:05 PM UTC
I woke alone in heartache
A place I never want to be
My feelings turn against me
My soul begins to bleed
My teardrops feel like winter rain
Yet burn my eyes like fire
The pain feeds, Tearing endlessly
Killing every wish, desire
A hopeless state of consequence
I never ever want to feel
My inner light is faulting
Please God make this unreal
Waves and waves of cold despair
Are thrashing through my soul
My mind aloft with final thoughts
My heart collects its toll
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 6:23 PM UTC
He sits on his chair of unearned power
Time caused his temper to spoil and grow sour;
Faulting those lower in the hierarchy,
He rests, contented in his monarchy;
He wreaks havoc on anyone with dreams;
Though his entity divides at the seams
King of his castle, he sits unconcerned
Playing with fire, about to be burned
He has not learned: what goes up must come down
Breathing in water, and soon he will drown
He pushes others down to lift him up
He is bitter and decaying closeup
Written and read in a voice of deadpan:
The crimes of a diabolical man
May 14, 2019
May 14, 2019 at 9:35 PM UTC
~
Silent sentence
The silence is deafening
pounding this cartoon anvil
lodged somewhere in my head
echoing through empty chambers
A loud dose of nothing
calls to me in voiced undertones
resonating with the volume
of butterfly wings pinned to a board
My clouded eyes look,
hoping my ears are mistaken
wishing for only a sound
vibrating in this vast glass hallway
Wave lengths in shorter shadows
collect on mesh grilles
protecting weathered speakers
cracked and taped…yellowed
Tiny dots felt of faulting fingers
braile’d emotions screaming
along a page of discomfort…blistering,
dog eared for no reason at all
Stillness…that is all…stillness
no wind, no color, no movement,
as I wait for this that shall not come
alone…perhaps unheard by others
This it seems shall be my existence,
written in quiet ink…invisible to most
no lemon juice tricks this time
as I serve my sentence…in silence
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 2:25 PM UTC