"frivolously" poems
all aluminum alloy ammo
bane bat brakes badly basters back bones
come call cthulhu Cristo cuz
dead ********** dominate de download
even elven eternal endowments
fail frivolously flaming for fair fraudulence
grant good goggles give grandiose gratuity
how hella homeboys have how he has
If I ignore I implicate its implore
jack jacks jacks
kay killla kooks krack
LAPD locks la lackeys
maybe mom made mad monoxide
no, no natural nix NOx neutralizes
oh over overt opp only overlay orphic
please protest politely panic pretenses perpetuity
quiet quivers quiet queens
remember rage reaps reciprocity
so sour sits supplanters sat
to tell them to tare trail *** tat?
universal unhappiness underlays under us
victory validates victors vanity
why warble when winners wont waste worry wanting
x-axis x-rays Xerophagy Xanax Xanthorroea
you yodel yonder yet yahweh's yells Yarrish
zero zag zealots zoos
Jun 20, 2012
Jun 20, 2012 at 4:40 AM UTC
I love you
Three words that don't tell it how it is
I more than love you
I want you,
Need you,
Have you,
Feel you,
Miss you,
Fear you,
See you,
Hear you,
Kiss you,
Adore you,
Taste you,
Breathe you,
I more than love you
I worship you
As my friend
As my lover
As the ruler of my heart
You are all good things
Yet you're like no other
I would kiss the ground
Your feet have walked on
Then I'd kiss them too
Not to prove I'm worthy
Just because I enjoy the sensations
Of trying new things with you
Time with you is a commodity
Much easier to part with
I spend it frivolously
Purely for enjoyment
We live for memories
Sleep for dreams
I sleep to wake up next to you
One thing I always look forward to
Is softly kissing your back
From top to bottom
Then bottom to top
As though I am your wake up call
Your human alarm clock
*"Rise and shine gorgeous,
it's already ten o'clock"*
I want you to know
You are priceless
Beyond value
Beyond worldly things
Invaluable to my happiness
And
Detrimental to the pain
I more than love you
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 4:23 PM UTC
i am of the light
despite
my shroud
that crowds the villains in the toppled telemetry of my steeds
galloping gallantly from the burning cities of my dreams
i shall gleam from her or he
that which delivers
their truths faithfully to their dreams
open wounds turn invitation
in the pity of hungry thieves
who dared to dream
of peasants king-ed.
as we sing
sing
of desperation
in passionate confessions
of jaded wisdom
passed on through every failure
never to falter
in the betrayals of Walters
lost
in loss-less flac files
i have miles to go
smiles to grow
daggers projectiles
from mild mannered children
freshly ridden
of maniacal miracles
spiritual
but not stupid
we are troopin
this lucid movement
grooving
to the repetition of the drum
the gas blow back of a gun
the bursting bubbles of bubble gum
having fun
i learnt goodly on the run
learned nothing in victory
learned nothing in simplicity
complacently
snickering it all away
bullet by bullet
case by case
and eventually the blade
in my compassionate displays
we shall congregate
and hate ourselves
**** the donks to hell
dwelling on the cellar doors
that darkos teacher adored
in verbal massacre
of the written literature
of cracked brain fixtures
seeping the lines
in cold tingles
down the spines of maniacs
just relax
mix it down on a track
spit the thesis into pieces
through the creases of cracked sneakers, and out the speakers
of trouble seekers.
mistakes make us
deliberate chaos
tossed
upon the fakers
who cry to think
the dream
became a reality
mistake us
for serrated blades that rip the hearts from beasts
sometimes i stop to think
while having a drink
conclusive brinks
of sanity creaks
of my humility
secreting
frivolously
the disposing of my jealousy
of your feelings
hellaciously
i rip a felony
from a face
in appealing agony
antagonizing me
in the frenzied forensics
of my oblique
outlooks
none of us
were ever crooks
speaking to self
while being booked
in hell
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 1:36 AM UTC
When i look at the moon i realize i am a jumble of atoms.
Mostly H and O.
and my bones are betraying me.
crumbling with every step i take
my tendons tearing
patellas separating
and i love frivolously
and violently
and wishfully
I love like i am breaking
because i am.
I am a jumble of atoms
and sometimes when i walk
down a dark alley way
and I can almost make out Orion's belt
when the light pollution isn't bad and
the skies are clear,
(which is rare)
I realize i'm not going to be here
in 100 years.
maybe not even 50.
and my heart beat quickens and my bones crumble
and my tendons tear
I am a wisp of time
a dust mote
a drop of water
a passing feeling
of remembrance
when you enter a town you've never been in
and know where to find the bookstore.
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 1:10 AM UTC
As your hand travels frivolously
To rest on my leg
My quiet heart races
Then faints
Awakened, I'm dizzy
And I look around
I'm not where I was
This is different ground
In this dreamworld
I wander
You take my hand
And lead me onward
There are teacups of chocolate
And rainbows of cream
Pathways of gum drops
In this delicious dream
I weep happy tears
As you lay here with me
On this sunken silk
Made of soft candy
Like sunken ships
Our feelings plummet
Into the sweet sea
They had just met
They descend into peace
Tranquility and ease
With every breath lost
They gave a tight squeeze
From one hand to the other
Between cold lips
Sweet nothings were murmured
And their tale was told
Waves turned to flame
Covered in fire
The cold left quick
Flames the new squire
The minty swirls
Overlapped and smothered
The orange licks of flame
In the dimming light
Our bodies dissolved
On lustful tongues
Our cries were not heard
From our disappearing lungs
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 5:19 PM UTC
I can hear the nurses over the din
That is my blood in my ears,
Coursing through these veins as if on fire.
I can hear them say "He's struck dumb,
Poor man, gave the boys all he had,
All that's left, of course, is a wordless bag of bones,
And broken heart".
I can hear them frivolously care for the others I cannot see,
Whose names, are to me, little anchors that weigh me
To reality, like a nail in the ground holds a kite down
To keep it from breaking free.
I am silent, struck dumb
Why can't the thoughts that swirl in my mind like mist
Materialize into words and sentences so that a living eye can read them,
So that a living ear can hear them, as they flow from my mouth
In little indeterminate streams,
That can remind me that the world exists beyond what I have seen.
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 2:26 PM UTC
America isn't what it used to be.
What happened to the American Dream?
Now we're a country that depends on foreign oil.
Fighting wars, all on enemy soil.
Our leader's a coward,
cowards are our leaders.
And mother Earth,
just look how we treat her.
We spend money frivolously,
haven't you heard?
We even are hypocrites of our own word.
The American Dream murderers,
we are!
The American Dream murderers,
we are!
Oiled up machines stealing our jobs.
As the unemployed let out weak sobs.
We let our greed get to our heads.
And now soon we'll all be dead.
The American Dream murderers,
we are!
The American Dream murderers,
we are!
The American Dream murderers,
we are!
The American Dream murderers,
we are!
We are the ultimate murderers,
of the American Dream!
Jul 22, 2012
Jul 22, 2012 at 2:46 PM UTC
A paradox in itself
But then I saw her there across
the room
through flocks and flocks of 'beautiful'
silly seagulls --
frivolously flocking,
pecking at
the shiniest trash that flutters by
Only to swallow
pass
flock, peck again
--------------------------------------------------------------
She intrigued my mind
through
the eye I saw her beak was flat y
no craning,
crooning neck l
and could not f
for she had no wings
... maybe we do not care to fly!
--------------------------------------------------------------
Like the Red Sea
She-Moses split through the flock
to me,
beakless
surrounded by chronically cocking faces
all but one,
all alone
She had been too
-------------------------------------------------------------
Now next to me
No wandering eye could care
in soundless conversation
proclaimed we
are together
as one we surely gleamed as gold
too bright for gulls to see
...Mastur-consolation?
-------------------------------------------------------------
And so it's true
we were alone
together
perfect paradoxical bliss
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 6:58 PM UTC
the snow falls sincerely sorry,
like a pale yellow skirt at the foot of your bed-
i always said, "i didn't mean it".
but i meant it.
it's that time of the year,
where you'll wrap yourself in wool and leathers,
in hopes no one will feel just how cold you truly are,
but i can feel it.
you drink your whiskey straight,
yet feel too inhumane to rest your lips on the same bottle
as the only people who've ever loved you drink from.
your glass gets frosty.
you blow hot, pungent air between your teeth like steam,
in hopes we'll see you as some frightening machine,
instead of how you really are when you forget
that you should be holding up your fashionably unfashionable walls.
you're just another washed up actor,
who somehow lost the ability to differentiate between being on-set,
and being alive.
so you lie.
frantically,
frivolously,
and frusterated,
that nobody you trust can trust you to be you.
the scenes that you build get muddled and confused,
rendered too busy by your lack of attention
and over-use of the exact same hues.
you used to seem so beautiful,
until i found your pallet
under your worn-down mattress...
you only paint with grey.
oh, how you tried
to hide the colors that i am under a tweed cloak of comfort ability,
but i don't fade,
and i most certainly do not run.
i change every day,
and when i begin to hate the direction that my masterpiece is heading in,
i change course entirely.
i abandon the compass,
and the guide books,
and stampede across the pages,
until i become the new and improved version of who i was yesterday.
stop pretending,
and just be.
you wear your "fight" face everyday,
as if you may have to chase a pride of giggling hyenas away
at any given moment.
put down your knife and act right,
no one here wants to hurt you.
you hurt me,
you tried to hide me,
and you lied to me.
still,
all i want to do is teach you.
teach you to let go of your charade,
to embrace the life you've made,
and how to paint the sunset as a sunset-
not a eulogy.
Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 3:16 PM UTC
Despair a place of solace, disillusion a state of being,
when emptiness routes the soul forbidding any dreams.
You try to smile your placid smile with untold torment tearing you apart inside. Was it seen? Could they know? Have they discovered the secret you try to hide?
Ignorance is bliss and in ignorance those around us live their lives blissfully, but pain is bitter sweet and consumes us frivolously.
And someday it will all end.
Amen
Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 12:26 AM UTC
I stare into the clouded night sky
That shines the light of the sun on the clouds
Via the moon that orbits the Earth
Continuously
Round and round
Held in by
Just the right amount
Of gravity.
Nothing more,
Nothing less.
I am the moon
That moves on continuously
Seeking something more
But spending time frivolously.
Not moving forward
Or backward
But
Riding a course almost effortlessly
Weighing the balance of my course
On the moment and not
Resisting the force of the Earth.
I am the Earth
Attracting nothing useful to myself
Losing my health exponentially
My skin scars grow deeper
With the pollution of the bacteria
Ever multiplying
Not even their deaths diminishing
The pain of my barrier being torn
By my internal conflict
And I...
Just float.
Orbiting a greater body than I.
I am the sun
Feeling not the heat that is embedded
Within me
I question
If I can really feel anymore
Even though my skin is warm
My core still fusing,
Beating,
Emotions clashing within me
So much so that my body
Distances its core
From the surface
And I forget to worry
If...
I expand so far
And then collapse
Into myself
And become a void
******* in emotions
Numbly
Because I lost what was left of me.
I am the universe
Full of mystery
Full of dark shades
And galaxies plenty
Many planets,
Stars and satellites
That whirl and whirl
Into sight
Or disappear in a black hole.
I am the universe
That continues to expand
Stretching
Straining
Out of hand
Continuing on
Because I can
And this universe
This body is not mine
I cannot end it
At least,
It has not expended enough
To implode
Nor do I want it to
By the will that subconsciously
Remains within me.
Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 7:20 AM UTC
When my body is broiled with the crispening macabre glean of anxiety; I imagine myself to be a buoying loaf of cornbread in a torrent sea of acid.
my custard colored crust being licked away by the ravenous maw of the current, this is no terrain for a loaf of cornbread in the first place.
Ludicrous.
Perhaps if I joined the sun swept crystal island of idealism, I could be drenched in honey and bound frivolously in nectarous orchard fields.
But then, even here, I suppose a Raven may spot me and adorned with a vulturous sneer gobble me up in my blissful state there.
So where shall my pappy crumbling loaf of an existence reside?
In the trenches of unbridled realization, lapping me up in a despair riddled prison?
Or the land of beatitude and glee unfettered from the brutalizing truths of reality...
Perhaps there's some bridging ground between these two polar opposites...
but how should I know?
I'm merely a cornbread I can't declare cognizance.
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 11:09 PM UTC
when it hit you home.
*you’re eyes closed at shutter speeds,
when the heart sinks,
or sank.
and each blink individually,
starts to take a second of your life from me,
frivolously.
and your mind focuses,
but like a broken lens,
you nictate, nictate,
like you’re stuck on repeat.
and you dictate the aftermath,
like you have admitted defeat.
as cynosure slips from your fingertips.
the closure in the locus.
you spoke to me in hindsight,
and you spared me in the moment.
still glowing, albeit, caliginously.
you described the bright lights in defiance,
lying sweetly,
in a conversation, in constellations,
i’ll remember you in full bloom;
in keepsakes;
we wished to the the stars aligned,
shining flowers for you in the nights sky.
whilst you fought for your life, in kind.
high as a kite, twinkle in your eye,
as you guide your life
away.
still in spite,
of your perdition,
the latest addition of you.
when i see you in ruin.
through the body as it mortifies,
and your fortified smile,
tortured denial,
a defiant forcefield,
shatters and eviscerate,
and as you evaporate;
i see your lips crack through dryness,
my queen and highness;
i’ve not seen you laugh for a while.
and as I see time pass,
from you astute,
a calmness in your eyes grew,
and now when you belly laugh,
you gasp for air,
it’s as if,
not much is inside there.
as you stutter and stammer,
judgement impaired,
scared.
and yellow coloured,
tinged skin,
bed ridden
in affliction,
to me,
to you.
as it dawned on me
and then it dawned on you.
when it finally hit you home,
nothing left but skin and bones,
the final petal of a rose,
fell.*
**I still miss you.
I miss you still.
I always have,
always will.**
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 6:08 AM UTC
Orchids i saw bloom today...
roses i saw fade...
no words came to my mouth to say...
no real remarks were made...
and then i saw a lily sink..into it's watery end...
and yet again..no words came to me...no words or signs to send...
once again a day passed by...with daisies in my hand..
one by one...went "he loves me not...he loves me yet again.."
and yet i frivolously spent..time wasted on the words...
when actions could have done much more..could have flown up...up like birds...
and here i sit...stll pondering..upon what words could have been said...
it is too late...i waited too long...the flowers are all dead...
and now im stuck..at winter's peak...it's spring time nevermore...
and here i am...full of remorse and regret..and at sadness's shore..
theres nothing to do...no words to say...for alas..to my dismay...
the roses have faded...the orchids have long bloomed...and the lilies...are far away..
no more are there..daisies to say.."he loves me not...he loves me so" that is my price to pay...
Aug 16, 2011
Aug 16, 2011 at 12:40 AM UTC
Do you hear the distant bells ringing in the spire?
Do you hear the joyful songs of the Yuletide choir?
Are you warming by the fire and eating turkey roast?
Are you blessed with the company of kin and friendly host?
Is every Christmas that occurs better than the one before
And will it last throughout your years and be forever more?
Or do you hear the cries of children starving in their beds
With days of endless violence and death within their heads?
Is there always an empty hearth with shivering and cold?
Will you be alone for now and ever until you’re very old?
Will every Christmas bring to you nothing better than before
And will no one hear the cries for help and knock upon your door?
Christmas is the time to think of others and their plight
When you are warmed with happiness, smug on Christmas Night.
Christmas is the time for giving and for thinking more of others;
Especially the suffering, starving child, alone without their Mothers.
This Christmas when you’ve spent your money frivolously and rash,
Think of those worse off in life that die through lack of cash!
Dec 23, 2009
Dec 23, 2009 at 8:36 AM UTC
I have read my last cliché line, and spoke my last ambiguous truth. I’ve found the lack of principle in mankind, comes in both old age and in youth. One born from lack of days, passing beyond so few a night. The other hardened from too many wrongs, being passed along as ubiquitous rights. Truth finding no firm a ground, to grow without contempt. From those whole look to yield its might, and twist it with malicious intent. Those footed in ill-fated hypocrisy, both by practice and in speech. Principle scorn from lips once pure, forged by what life’s path can teach. And though the values of an honorable man preside, at the conclusion of every poetic line. The truth that’s found between each word, can make a man think he is divine. Spoken with word as sweat as red wine, he believes the world drink with thirst. Or so thinks the man who speaks frivolously, without hearing his own words first. So he drinks in his own narcissism, as his words ring forever true. In his nostalgic mind that never changes, or lets in sound anew. And that once juvenile and prospective boy, whose suns were few to shine. Has become a toughened old man, whose life has yet to be defined. By a principle worth shouting, to the heavens and beyond. Beyond his many nights and far more days, who hold to him a bond. Of servitude to his truth, regardless of its legitimacy. That which forges what will be his legacy, for everyone to see.
Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 5:25 AM UTC
I’m just a man looking for a woman and a therapist
One to fix me, one to love me, in any order
And you, you’re just a lovely, sweet, spoiled
Left by a father, whose death ruined you
It burns like a wildfire, ebbing in all directions
Our duo resembles a bear and a bear trap
While the poacher of souls trains his stare on us
Chewing tobacco with a tear in his shirt
With a wife somewhere, with all her chords in the proper sockets
Bored, dumping her love down the sink with the extra beans
Running the water we’ve come to share like barroom jokes.
And back to you and me, it was only a month; and I loved you
You never knew, because stitches never love a wound
They fall away frivolously, and anonymous
Much like us, now, with alarms of harder times burning in our ears
Yet the sound never fades, it sticks around like the old friends
The ones who helped you before you were famous, or infamous
Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 6:22 PM UTC
I don't know if you can see right now,
your energy is all encompassing to me, you are in tune with everyone and everything even when you don't realise.
Your soul calls out,
I hear it, is it calling me?
An idea, a probability?
I love you so very much. I can only hope you understand what that means. Soul mate yes, is a once In a lifetime thing, but so is love, real love.
The meaning just got diluted along with our culture, and tossed around frivolously until it could be applied to all intimate situations.
Not so, not for me.
You are for me, if you want to be
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
Frivolously toss a grain of sand into my heart
and watch it tear me through the pavement.
Jul 30, 2016
Jul 30, 2016 at 5:42 PM UTC
Chirruping birds lay in wait; as we passed, the flowers flushed,
Frivolously through the woods we ran- heads occasionally kissed by the dew,
In my petite hand, a rose red of hue, the fountains of love loudly gushed.
As Spring cast her spell, nothing would change, I knew.
The cruel scorching sun, the scathing hot winds a cruel blow delivered,
Gravely, she shook her head, reassuring words the Doctor sought.
A pearl of sweat adorned his brow- he feared.
As Summer dawned, nothing would change, I thought.
The bitterly cold flakes of snow, the surging sinister cold,
His beautiful eyes, shut, were shielded while I wept and moped.
The blink of an eye; the reassuring smile he attempted spoke of a heart of gold,
As Winter imposed, nothing would change I hoped.
The leaves tearfully from the naked trees parted,
A surrendering smile, my name on his lips grew,
The final breath, our bond severed- his bed away was carted.
As Fall struck, everything would change, I knew.
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 11:06 AM UTC
You are a bird flying near.
A simple graze of my arm
a feather kept, a loss of fear.
And this is not temporary.
You are a parade.
Your trumpets, your drums
reinventing the copyrighted charade.
It's not a trick-it's rudimentary.
You are fresh squeezed lemonade.
When the sweat cannot be quelled,
you forge trees for shade.
But speaking of you is just supplementary.
You are the long drive back.
Every worm in the miles of dirt
can hear this counterattack-
especially those four days of January.
You are my trustworthy veins,
our frivolously necessary games,
and the smell of relentless rains.
These senses, put blunt yet gently,
manifest nothing less than your infinite trajectory.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 5:44 PM UTC
I went gentle into that good night;
A decision with which I am rather pleased,
For what would it profit me to rage?
When the absolute of the darkness slides in,
And grants me these last few moments
I see no incentive for them to waste.
Dissatisfied men may cry out in indignance,
And let anger and rebellion consume their last breaths,
And frivolously spend their last minutes in livid disdain.
Wild men who chase and pursue the stars in flight
Feel their chests swell with the hatred of submission,
But I? I know that the setting of the sun does not oppress.
Disappointing men reserve all defiance when it is most required;
When others’ blood pours freely and tears spill liberally
They will shackle all insurrection to themselves.
That is, until they are faced with this finality, this ultimatum
That they cannot change, no matter how they rage. Not I. I was content.
And with the last gifts,
I went gentle into that good night.
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 10:44 PM UTC
Money is spent to make it all right
No expense can be spared for love you see
A clue to this damp but glorious played up ceremony
And being admitted to an elite club of the insane
The asylum that many readily join including myself
Offers some assurance to believing this passion is true
The demonic tones of an old piano
Are tapped to the rhythm of my walk
A walk to the death some may argue
Or maybe the plank to the life that’s more than this one
Clicking and stomping of expensive high-heeled shoes
And the empty peoples clapping hands
Welcome an inviting tone to this unfamiliar place
Later, bragging and screaming and loud blues music
Plays continuously in the background
Skeletons of once known adored people dance around
Drinking frivolously and laughing hysterically
The cold bars and low-lighted floors
Make for a tingling sensation to run down my spine
As I see you my friend, my angel, my beau
It seems I will be spending my eternal life here
Always my mother and father say-
Amongst leeches, roses,
And the ringing of wedding bells.
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 3:58 AM UTC