"fishtank" poems
I am the kind of guy who goes to bars alone with my headphones in, munching on a cigar with half my brain on iambic pentameter and the other half on the feeling of a girls thigh under my lips.
I love the moon and I love the sun but both can be too bright and too dim at the same time. Red lights don't exist and my soul wants to be wild.
The colors of the world scream at me in silence and I smile with closed eyes, just living in the few seconds given to me by whoever is holding the knife next to the string.
This world, these people, living their lives like caricatures of trendy Hollywood films and fashion magazines leave me weary and disoriented. The laughing man next to me in ragged clothes and missing teeth calls to my curiosity more than the man in a pressed tux trying to sell me expensive cologne on expensive advertisements.
I don't understand, but I want to.
There is a pain I feel every morning and every evening.
It flows through my bones and courses through my veins like a patient army, building their palisades around my heart.
It makes my mind swirl in anger and beauty. The pain on being here. The pain of floating through the universe on a spinning fishtank.
The pain in every breath. The hell in the foundations of eden. The pain of my existence.
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 1:46 PM UTC
I'm chewing on my thumb
and listening to ice
crackle and hiss
as it deflates.
"Melts."
Once,
you were an
artist swearing your
mistakes were your genius.
Now you are locked in
place and waiting for
some monster in
a fishtank to
manifest,
but you mailed
your change to some
shady place in Wisconsin
you saw in an advertisement
in a comic book from the
seventies, or eighties.
You've gone mad.
Everything else
suffers for it
and you
can't
see.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 12:04 AM UTC
The unsettling fishtank
dream remains/ luminous!
& yet confined to it's own/serene state
of sheltered existence, there is no/reaching in and interrupting this Indian fire two thousand years old/only a deep sense of burden that you couldn't n will never/
be a section of its gaze
There will be no kindling of Spirit while whispering the secret of your/madness to
a staircase/
There will be no eyes & alms to forgive and guide your restlessness at night/the sky will not forget your cowardice in absolute emotional expression
How you stray from kissing a holy lover the way you've always ached to!
The Summer will not reverse its eternal poetry from your skin/
will not smile watching you blunder through childhood, tending to your fear with higher
priority than your great wound
It (this longing to be smothered & worthy rest) will not reschedule to next week
just because you read the daily horoscope
and it "applies" to you now!
/soldier & your MobyDick heart & saintly revelations on the silence of your neighbors & shaving off ur insecurities/causing you to bleed & be sent off to the HOSPITAL & the staff is laughing down at your mangled face, anyways
& you have done with the destruction caused in a moment of blushing cheeks
Dye fills the head with ego painting & unexpressed volumes ! Oh!
The circus remains fearless but still uninformed, worn down in its senseless practice & schoolboys cry observing the clouds lose train of thought to the music of Berlioz
My terrible soul skips/unblinking from the pondrous black cat who lingers above my dreamworld/to Gustav Klimt & his empyrean entanglement/
out to the parking lot which cannot mind it's own bussiness
trees of insoluble space
haiku lion
prisons kept hush hush
so its prisoners may forget
again where they weep
(how are you dear? I wish I could be a lasting impression)
Since birth
many of us have successfully
avoided the barbaric
heat of life
I haven't been uplifted by beautiful
laughter in a long time
the laugh that uplifts this whole Earth
A child to die so early
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 4:33 AM UTC
the fishtank is whispering to me
i tell it i want to go home
the filter shudders a laugh
i am throwing myself against
concrete barriers to feel
blood gasping for breath but
i drown it in the shower
punishing tender flesh with the faucet
if this place is supposed to be beautiful
no one told my heart
and I feel the weight of my ugliness
in the pit of my stomach
an egg hatching, shredding insides,
fully deserved.
Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 5:31 PM UTC
It's pouring now, but dim
Eerie blue light on my walls
Hum of the fishtank reverberating
Fan is creaking simply slow
My quilt does nothing for cold
But serves to only protect me
I am lonely. I am lonely.
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 9:28 PM UTC
Iceberg inside of my heart
winter storm inside myself
clouds pass through my eyes
feel them evaporate in my head
Ive got a numbskull
a numbskull
thats what you said
Playing a game of cards against yourself
the dealer is the joker too
and if the kings the one who wears the crown
then what does that make you?
A Numbskull
Ive got a numbskull
thats what you said
Write in my will "Numbskull"
Anesthesia in my brain
at the bottom of a fishtank
a decoration in the waters from where we used to drink
you stare deep within
see a reflection of your skin
and a numbskull staring back at you with a wide eyed childlike grin
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 4:27 AM UTC
Swim like fish
test the shallows
go deep
if the water suits you
stay over
fall asleep.
May 22, 2023
May 22, 2023 at 4:04 PM UTC