"insomniacs" poems
Nothing on me to light a fire
In this dark place
Only my instincts can save me
A shattered heart and torn soul
But I’m still holding on
There’s not much hope
But I hold faith
That one day I’ll make it free
From this place
I’ll do everything it takes
To get out of here alive
It’s not as easy as it sounds
The hardest things take time
And this is an endless war
Between a conscious mind
Of doubts and regrets
That fill an insomniacs head
All these monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
Hellhounds chase me down
For many monsters, I have slain
But there were only more that came
It’s just the monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
I’ve followed winding roads
Hid in dying woods
Snuck through the marsh
Covered my scents with mud
In this land, it’s always dark
Woods with leafless trees
It gets lonely here in purgatory
Can you hear the howls,
screams and cries
Deafening to the ears
It’ll make you tremble and shake
You can’t give into fear
Or you won’t make it alive out of here
I’ve been facing down monsters one at a time
Too many at once and they’ll eat you alive
It’s not easy to decide
Which one will be next
Just hope that you don’t mess up
And end up dead
I’m locked and loaded
With guns in hand
I’m prepared as I’ll ever be
I’m gonna make it out of here eventually
All these monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
Hellhounds chase me down
For many monsters, I have slain
But there were only more that came
It’s just the monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
I’ve followed winding roads
Hid in dying woods
Snuck through the marsh
Covered my scents with mud
In this land, it’s always dark
Woods with leafless trees
It gets lonely here in purgatory
The battles are far from over
Still on guard, ready to defend
Every corner I turn
It gives them a new chance
To catch me off guard
And rip me apart
I’ve got a lot of scars and marks
Barely scraped through
some of my past fights
At the last moments
I was able to turn the tides
How much longer
Can I keep myself alive
I guess the future holds the secrets
Just gotta keep moving
Until I find the exit light
And break free
of this apocalyptic dream
All these monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
Hellhounds chase me down
For many monsters, I have slain
But there were only more that came
It’s just the monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
I’ve followed winding roads
Hid in dying woods
Snuck through the marsh
Covered my scents with mud
In this land, it’s always dark
Woods with leafless trees
It gets lonely here in purgatory
I’m panting
Taking a deep breath
Bite wounds in my leg
Hellhounds found me out
All is lost now
Guns are out of reach
Might as well accept my fate
Just give in
Let the monsters win
Sometimes you can’t beat a sin
Unless you devote
your unconditional love to him
This was something I never did
So where I’m going is uncertain
Now it’s finally time to
Let the curtain close
Shut my eyes
This is it
I’m torn to bits
All these monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
Hellhounds chased me down
For many monsters, I have slain
But there were only more that came
It’s just the monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
I’ve followed winding roads
Hid in dying woods
Snuck through the marsh
Covered my scents with mud
In this land, it’s always dark
Woods with leafless trees
I died alone here in purgatory
(To be continued...)
©2018 Written By Benji James
Apr 1, 2018
Apr 1, 2018 at 9:32 AM UTC
Nothing on me to light a fire
In this dark place
Only my instincts can save me
A shattered heart and torn soul
But I’m still holding on
There’s not much hope
But I hold faith
That one day I’ll make it free
From this place
I’ll do everything it takes
To get out of here alive
It’s not as easy as it sounds
The hardest things take time
And this is an endless war
Between a conscious mind
Of doubts and regrets
That fill an insomniacs head
All these monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
Hellhounds chase me down
For many monsters, I have slain
But there were only more that came
It’s just the monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
I’ve followed winding roads
Hid in dying woods
Snuck through the marsh
Covered my scents with mud
In this land, it’s always dark
Woods with leafless trees
It gets lonely here in purgatory
Can you hear the howls,
screams and cries
Deafening to the ears
It’ll make you tremble and shake
You can’t give into fear
Or you won’t make it alive out of here
I’ve been facing down monsters one at a time
Too many at once and they’ll eat you alive
It’s not easy to decide
Which one will be next
Just hope that you don’t mess up
And end up dead
I’m locked and loaded
With guns in hand
I’m prepared as I’ll ever be
I’m gonna make it out of here eventually
All these monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
Hellhounds chase me down
For many monsters, I have slain
But there were only more that came
It’s just the monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
I’ve followed winding roads
Hid in dying woods
Snuck through the marsh
Covered my scents with mud
In this land, it’s always dark
Woods with leafless trees
It gets lonely here in purgatory
The battles are from over
Still on guard, ready to defend
Every corner I turn
It gives them a new chance
To catch me off guard
And rip me apart
I’ve got a lot of scars and marks
Barely scraped through
some of my past fights
At the last moments
I was able to turn the tides
How much longer
Can I keep myself alive
I guess the future holds the secrets
Just gotta keep moving
Until I find the exit light
And break free
of this apocalyptic dream
All these monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
Hellhounds chase me down
For many monsters, I have slain
But there were only more that came
It’s just the monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
I’ve followed winding roads
Hid in dying woods
Snuck through the marsh
Covered my scents with mud
In this land, it’s always dark
Woods with leafless trees
It gets lonely here in purgatory
I’m panting
Taking a deep breath
Bite wounds in my leg
Hellhounds found me out
All is lost now
Guns are out of reach
Might as well accept my fate
Just give in
Let the monsters win
Sometimes you can’t beat a sin
Unless you devote
your unconditional love to him
This was something I never did
So where I’m going is uncertain
Now it’s finally time to
Let the curtain close
Shut my eyes
This is it
I’m torn to bits
All these monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
Hellhounds chased me down
For many monsters, I have slain
But there were only more that came
It’s just the monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
I’ve followed winding roads
Hid in dying woods
Snuck through the marsh
Covered my scents with mud
In this land, it’s always dark
Woods with leafless trees
I died alone here in purgatory
(To be continued...)
©2019 Written By Benji James
Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 7:30 AM UTC
Diminutive minutes fly by and imbue.
Ennobled, hungers the second hand.
Verbose and loud, its villainous ticking;
Oxen heavy, that kneading sound,
Under skull and depth of dreams.
Rescind the mad lives we vitiate;
Enchanted by hollow, fear of ghosts,
Dancing in a pitch waiting room.
Happenstance for insomniacs,
Ogres and dark shadows howling
Unapologetic at the light and moon.
Riot of the quiet, against daylight
Star: quarry in the void of night / time / dark.
Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 11:54 AM UTC
1.
Inhaling poison like it’s a sweet spring breeze,
an antidote to the pounding heart and aching stomach empty of comfort or substance
Meeting with pavement in a tiger’s crouch
fingers float toward parted lips
awaiting the taste of relief in the form of smouldering leaves.
2.
One tentative epidermis approaches another
tendons and ligaments straining, aching for contact
attempting nonchalance in the lamplight privacy of early morning,
cocking ears to detect voyeuristic insomniacs
who would disturb the disorderly expressions of early experimentation.
3.
White lady dusting the concrete path, sterile and unconfined
laid new before careful feet making their way to shiny metal boxes
bundled in seasonal expectations they trudge through stardust
on their way to blood borne obligations,
leaving behind careless tracks in ****** flesh
4.
Blazing sun presses down on shoulders hunched behind compact table tops
peddling penny prologues to unabashed strangers
bartering unwanted pocket change for rejected trinkets
haggling over half-dried finger paints and unfinished chess sets
rescuing garish afghans from dusty closeted life.
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 7:33 PM UTC
Take up the insomniac’s burden
So sleepless and yet not tired,
Look not up to your bed.
For there is nothing more we desire.
We live in simple contradiction,
At day, the city hums it’s lullabies
But here we are. Awake,
Forced to endure those sleeper’s sullen cries.
Take up the insomniac’s burden
To never feel again,
The patience in that persons eye
And you thought there’d never be an end.
They wonder why we don’t sleep
You see..us insomniacs are all the same
In some way there’s no getting over
The hurricane after the rain.
Take up the insomniac’s burden
A war of raging peace
Still awake, our soft hearts breathe irregularly.
It’s frustrating. To say the least.
To know that you won’t be the same
At least not anytime soon
To know that person’s gone forever
And all she left for me? The moon.
Take up the insomniac’s burden
We live just night by night
Some of us..nothing but ****** romantics
We’re just attack dogs without their bites.
We sit and over think our plans
Plotting on how to set them in motion.
So go tell the city’s lovers we’re on our way
To assassinate. Their emotion.
Sep 19, 2010
Sep 19, 2010 at 5:53 PM UTC
i fell in love with you
once
long ago
with my eyes closed
and the dream-screen drawn
we danced
like music notes across their barred landscape
we danced
the loveliest late-night lullaby
you became my hiding place
lilac and lace linens
stretched over a lumpy matress
my indiana jones
waiting patently and poetically
in a long-lost temple of slumber
you come back to me in waves
softly and subtly
while i'm half awake
you're kissing the broken down shorelines of an insomniacs holiday
i wish i could keep you
like an empty bottle in the window-sill
or a heart arrhythmia
this lonely romantics cardiovascular waltz
let me snag you up from my dream-dust
and stitch you to my sole like a lost boys shadow
let me find you in my reality
tip-toeing over an underlined paragraph
of a beer stained paper-back
i'll find you
someday
after a long-over-due nights sleep
perhaps in the guitar strings
or type-writer keys
or at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey in the ever-humming freezer
be mine
evasive valentine
i'll even let you hide in the curls of my hair
or under my fingernails
i'll keep you
if you'll let me
just don't forget me
come sun-up
when you gallup away
from my sub-conscious escape
take my heart-rate with you
tucked into your breast-pocket
like a floral handkercheif
or a photogaraph taped to the dash
come back
to the grey matter kingdom
tucked behind my eyelashes
i'll meet you in the idiosyncrasies of my synapses
writing love stories that never once happened
Dec 20, 2012
Dec 20, 2012 at 12:56 PM UTC
Embarked my usual train of thought,
raging hormones fight fiercely to win.
There you are now, vividly brought,
in pure thoughts full of sin
Tossing & turning in bed,
a typical lustful insomniac.
Tearing my blanket, pulling on a thread,
and watching the ceiling like a maniac.
I stare in empty spaces,
anxiously awaiting you now.
I'm going mad with your perfume traces.
I even smell it on my dress, I don't know how.
I lay there restless for a while,
until i hear your voice.
You walk through the door to serenade me to sleep
I say "touch me." and you like that choice.
Bite me, I love when a lover misbehaves.
Breath me in the midnight heat.
Crush on me like the strong Pacific waves.
Come closer, come sense my heartbeat.
Sleep deprivation. We argue.
Over a lovers' argument,
You say "A million times I love you"
I say "Your love, is my lifetime accomplishment"
You lay a kiss, ever so adorning.
Slip into your dream as I slip into mine
and when we make it to the next morning
then darling I guess that's a good sign.
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 5:45 PM UTC
from dusk to dawn,
I wish I'd catch a wink of sleep
it certainly isn't pleasant to be going to sleep
when the rest of the household starts to rouse themselves
but such is the life of a closet insomniac
such is the life of one who lives in paranoia
such is, after all, the life of one who only ever comes alive
with the Night City, my Night City,
identified by the purplish-black clouds that blanket the city
and it's neon lights, for once again letting
us insomniacs become ourselves,
the ones who laugh and dance
and live and breathe when the world sleeps
the ones that return to existing as mere
shadows with the dawn of the sun
for us though, the awakening of the world is
with the appearance of starlight
with the quietening of most of
the sounds that plague daylight
random fires on streets are put out and we are left
to delight in the firey-orange neon lights.
aah. but what a sad time for us
when we become shadows
unable to do anything, with heavy weighted limbs
that refuse to obey any command,
with woolly heads and sleep deprivation,
almost-vampires for we don't sparkle
bruises under our eyes are barely noticed
for they are always there
during the day, shadows we become.
brushed aside and barely noticed, yet
in silence we choose to remain,
reveling in the knowledge that
night will return again.
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 3:02 AM UTC
Now I lay me down to sleep. It is near 2:00 P.M,Pacific time.
I pray the Lord my sleep to keep. Been tossing and turning a lot lately.
If I should Dream before I wake. No March Hares if you please.
I pray the lord my twitch to take. Restless leg syndrome.
Goodnight Insomniacs.
Late night surfers.
Medicated Jitterbugs.
Jet-lagged Travelers.
Partners of snoring bed mates. With or without earplugs.
Late night ruminators.
Wanna be fornicators.
See ya later Nocturnal alligators.
Inspiration is but a breath away.
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 4:52 AM UTC
Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response
It is quite mysterious the origin of such pleasure
Common is the multi-culturally adopted belief
That large fractions of massive populations
Label themselves as insomniacs
If anything this newfound viral sensation
May very well exist to cure insomnia
ASMR comes in a variety of different sounds
That help to release melatonin and aid the body in sleeping
Such sounds include inaudible whispering, gum chewing, table scratching, match lighting,
Ear to ear whispering, tapping, brushing, and crinkling.
These sounds are beautiful, inventive, ground breaking and a relevant discovery
Within the continuous cycle that is known to us as evolution
A vast majority of us have talking brains
Some of our brains talk more than others
Resulting in sleep deprivation on numerous occasions
We have been given a unique, sensational gift
That aids those in times of misfortune and grief
That aids those in emotional tribulation
Though it is through this global phenomenon
and it is through these talented individuals
that we are able to possibly if not entirely
conquer said debilitating times
A way to persuade peace amidst a callous world
That is what ASMR means to me
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 12:02 PM UTC
***** stories make front pages,
Massacres and killings,
Mayhem and ****** ,
A mad man is dealing,
This masked man antics
Is masking the city ,
The mind behind the gore
Is on 30th floor,
In a dormitory with no door,
Only a window,
With which
The nocturnal tenant tends to
Look over.
Watching
The overnight onlookers
Night walkers,
Alley cats,
Insomniacs,
And boulevard hookers..."
"....My eyes lay
On a prominent, candidate
For cannibalistic practices,
My dominant traits
Widows peak,
Vampirical feats,
Long, hollow teeth,
With massive molars,
Used to chewing meat,
Which sit beside my
Sharp Canines.
But my sizable incisors
Scissor inside the side of my
Silent victim
Select venom in him
Bereft of vocalism
Vocal cords torn
I violently vanquish
His speech.
He’s paralyzed from his
Neck to his feet
I throw him over
My shoulder,
Escape the obscene scene
Before I am seen..."
Oct 1, 2010
Oct 1, 2010 at 12:19 AM UTC
I am nothing, nothing but oblivion,
a vast emptiness within a breathing host.
If you were to rip me open,
cut me down the middle,
crank apart my ribs,
there would only be a numb void.
Maybe the world would be inhaled
into my stomach,
for me to regurgitate,
stripped of all it's essential beauty.
No more stars, I will keep them for myself,
let the moon shine it's dull light
in the spotlight, with no one to share it's empty
stage.
Let the sky be dumbfounded with loss
and void of illumination,
and maybe with star-filled guts
I will shine again.
Everything I am,
everything i touch,
is robbed of love and joy,
for I am nothing but an afterthought
left by the shadow of death.
I'm surprised I can be seen at all,
for I am transparent to myself.
My dreams and goals seem a whisper
from the past,
warm and inviting,
their words tickling my ears
with skeletal promises,
concrete at the touch, but
with no deeper substance.
Filthy liar, tease.
I reach and grasp and tear my limbs,
praying to feel even the vague
memory of hope upon my fingertips.
I long for escape,
escape from an insomniacs dream,
the lines of reality and ficiton blurred into one,
for only nightmares and goblins await me
in my bed of anvil pillows and maggot ridden matresses.
Escape,
for even the stroke of my pencil,
once so lively as it romanced me into a verse,
paints a tragedy.
But mostly,I want to fly into the night sky and explode,
burdening the world with all the negativity I've gathered over the years.
And release all the beauty and potential I've stolen and hidden away.
With the anarchy that is my psyche, I will restore balance.
I am everything.
Nov 13, 2011
Nov 13, 2011 at 5:23 PM UTC
What is it about this drunken town where the snow falls like cement
that made it so easy to fall in love with the delirious nightlife that never sleeps?
It seems like when I’m with you at night I never sleep.
We’re dancing around the cemetery like we threw a ball for souls.
No one believes you when you say you see something from the corner of your eye
but we all feel the chill and agree that tonight we will never sleep.
Do you remember the night you told me to never hold back? ******* I wanted
to cry but I forced a smile through my lips and eyes. I laid next to you with a blank mind
for hours knowing that you think I‘m a mystery. I learned that the train yard never sleeps.
The piece of **** microwave is broken again when you come home drunk.
You called me a **** and punched another hole in the wall and
I’m scared enough to know that tonight I’ll never sleep.
That bag of ice clutched tight won’t leave his hand jammed in his pocket. When
he gets home he feeds the crystals into the glass and heats it up. Tweaked out
and wandering the streets at three. A woman mutters, **** addicts never sleep.”
Have you ever dozed off in warm grass while watching
clouds passing lazily by? My god I swear there’s nothing better than
a nap in the sun for someone who never sleeps.
Glass rips my forehead clean open and exposes my frontal skull bone while
strange men hold me down and taunt me with knives and chain saws.
Reoccurring nightmares are why many insomniacs never sleep.
A sensual shower at midnight, that fat hit at two did nothing. Lavender and candles
aren’t working. I’m staring at the ceiling. You roll over and pull me close.
“Leah, please, go to bed. It kills me that you never sleep.”
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 4:52 PM UTC
we're friends right? no we are strained acquaintances we are yin yan
g with nine colors we are tv static on all night when you're too tired to
get up and turn it off we are doodles in the margins of a very importa
nt research paper you are lost in everyone forgetting that my middle
name is freedom i am putting on metaphorical makeup to mask my
emotional blemishes we are sour candy and ginger ale we are obscu
re genres of music shoegaze my ****** valentine we are a waterco
lor clusterfuck bleeding together like an amateur blood drive read b
etween the lines we are biodegradable plastic half covered in the soil
untouched for two years we are sunshine and chill bumps I hate you
for the same reasons I hate myself we are nostalgia and anxiety we a
re insomniacs who only want each other between the hours of 8 pm
and 6 am we are avoiding eye contact in the halls
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
this former guttersnipe doth harbor no ill will
while lain in the gutter of this conventional ville
where some insomniacs take nigh quill
your plea 4 money, but a confession
that my life like a bitter pill
shape n size like n opal battling uphill
monetary resources nil
yet surges of imaginative days with hew fill
me jet throw toll aqua lung gill
lug gin islands n tandem with my mind till
death dew eye part, but social security disability
just barely amp pull - this no pitiful poetic swill.
at this juncture
my self confidence fuels me with greater skill
2 take risks, such as reach out n smooth over
ruffled n ridged feathers emanating
from sputter ring unthinkingly sans my virtual quill
i.e. emails n such prods awareness
2 maximize opportunities that could fill
a void - specifically a marriage bereft of compatibility -
n figuratively i jumped in2 this drama OUT of desperation
years ago when hot n ***** pangs would not chill
plus my then living mother n now octogenarian
widower father raged against me, their sole
soul less son, who daily they did flip their grill.
Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 4:21 PM UTC
A clock ticks and
The beating of a heart
Just a hair apart
Almost in rhythm
While the wind blows
Across the globe
Quite in the night
Unheard-of in the daylight
And all voices are silent
Except the ones inside
Trying to fall asleep
But too afraid to turn out the lights
There will be no rest tonight
Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 12:01 PM UTC
the ultimate.
all and nothing simultaneously.
your pupils dilate when you see
her lovely figure on the inside of your skull.
she tantalizes your mind in the night.
with the little nibbles of her peace,
that serenade your transcendent taste buds.
those insomniacs who died a little within
wear it upon their skin as an
upside down flag and wait for her
calming breath on the back
of their goose pimpled necks.
when you breathe your final plea for her,
she comes to collect
that which she owns.
that's why we wear her
at funerals as a reminder
of the soul magpie
and the warbler who sings us
melodious songs of infinite tranquility.
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 2:19 AM UTC
Be inspired by blinding lights,
Followed by empty roads,
Let dotted images linger behind your eyelids,
As roaring traffic competes with stale music and smoke.
The lost crickets find solace in illuminated screens,
And my youthful insomniacs wonder where the poetry went?
Some remain, holding onto their pillows,
Others are gone,
But there sobs were lost among our silence.
Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 3:23 PM UTC
It's 3 am
again
I hate that word... again
it feels so certain
so absolute
that I might never sleep... again
see?
that's why I hate it
and the way the walls feel too close together
as though they could be listening
slowly compressing the doorway to the bedroom
so that it would be impossible to pass through
that I might never climb between the soft warmth of those covers
again...
thick carpet is curling up between my toes
tickling the tired soles of my feet as I pace
again
passing through the hallway towards the kitchen
lurking shadows of appliances of which the tasks seem to escape me
the gleam of lights on their many polished surfaces
strolling through the living room
open window letting in the night breeze to kiss against the skin I have not covered
again
I cross paths with the coffee table
narrowly avoiding its sleek edges that interject into my nightly obstacle course so stealthily
pausing in the single bathroom to admire
if only briefly
reflected light across her shoulders
curve of her back
down towards her waist and toes
the color of eyes in darkness
the shape of her face and nose
how sweet
how dark, mysterious
quiet, brooding
thoughtful that girl seems to be
depending on the time of night
light from the moon across her face
we meet again
again..
Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 3:32 PM UTC
*Call it quits if you want,
Call it whatever you want but it's left me feeling empty.
Say it's better with you gone,
But even as you say it, know that I'll always be angry.
Not that you left,
Or that you thought you had nothing left to lose,
But for taking away my say,
And for putting our friendship in that noose.
Call it useless as can be,
Say we're what's important but still keep us safe away
Say you'll always tell me,
Yet never let loose the demons you keep at bay
Not the jokes about never reaching thirty,
But how you believe everything about you
Is toxic and *****
What happened to that third story apartment
Where we watched B movies
And smelled like stale cigarettes?
Northeast Ohio winters are always reminiscent
Of that two bedroom home.
And this holiday when my family asks
"What have you been doing?"
I'll tell them I write ****** poetry and think about you
And how the seasons so routinely changed,
And no one noticed you had too.
You always used to tell me,
"We have to play the hands we're dealt."
It's not like you to throw the cards down
So tell me stranger,
When did you decide you didn't feel like yourself?
You took a chance at finding heaven
And you left behind this hell
Of bone chilling anxiety,
And endless nights without sleep
Spent counting every chance I missed to save you
Because I ran out of sheep.
I've racked up nights spent with stomach knots
Wondering if your spirit found a home
And did you ever once consider
You might still end up alone?
Unanswered questions create insomniacs,
I haven't been the same since they were introduced
I'll find a cover story for the circles under my eyes,
I haven't slept well since I got the news,
But I just cant bring myself to hate
The problem at its root.
*So mark it down as another statistic
Some of my dreams feel so realistic
You cross your legs, your laugh alone
Is enough to turn my heart into stone
When it sounds, resounds, vibrates my ears
I start to remember all my darkest fears
But they're fully realized in the empty space
You left behind, and I had to face
The fact I'll never see you again, not at least
If there's no heaven. God **** it, rest in peace.*
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 6:28 PM UTC
Mud icicles
half the cobblestone
and the neon fades and flares
Standing and pressing
muddy hands
against an invisible sphere
eyes shut, mind tranced
then we went wild
and pranced and danced
New powers
to see through the windows
the windows dirt washed off
gather energy
circular seduction
******** eruption
wet air tight suction
Gather round
absorb the new powers
we'll show you the way
Here is my first vision
Cannot beat the cruel summer heat
aching and throbbing
head to feet
enter the insomniacs rusted dream:
death maze, locked door
festered **** wounds
lookers on, rot haze
smell of maggots
and blistered flesh
****** man
Murders men
herded them
like swine to pen
hear another scream again
as you look for God
repent
repent
Clown Laugh
bodies hang
multi-murder
sadistic slaughter
in the stinky circus prison
Awake
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 12:01 PM UTC
In the wake of the moon
All my world is sadness
The crescent hung night
Under whose cover
I drink fire
Hidden from the gods
Hidden from the eyes
Satisfied
Fleeting in the first moment of morning light
I wish to be alone
Staring out from an empty field
I want to see God
Bend down and blow out the sun
Then I would lie down in the ice
And spin through dark eternities
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 6:00 PM UTC
Speak to me in darkness
when the sun is tucked behind trees
and stars welcome insomniacs to play.
Whisper to me through silence--
our secret strawberry pancake recipe.
"Eggs, flour, milk, sugar--" you list.
"Shhhh."
Parents are dreaming, not suspecting
two young lover frolicking their kitchen,
breathing their souls across a steaming skillet.
"Don't forget the strawberries," you say.
"Yeah, I know."
Thoughts swirl through my head
like steeping tea.
How cute you are while
you wait, licking batter
off calloused, worn hands.
To say that you are cute would be
to say these strawberries are sweet.
As sweet as a strawberry tastes
it has secret flavors, hidden--
sharp and ****
red and deep.
I would love to find you growing wild
out by the woods. I'd make
a basket with the looseness of my shirt
to carry home as many of you back to my kitchen
as I could possibly hold.
Lips pressed to my neck pull
my attention back from the brambles.
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 3:23 PM UTC
When I met her I knew she was a sleepless night in the making.
She lays on a bed fit for mortals,
but the moon places a halo on her head as she sleeps.
I curse my eyes,
as acidic darkness clings to her skin
and eats at my ability to see her at peace.
Seventeen years of life
and I still have yet to realize:
that being a sucker for insomniacs is not good for me.
Jul 18, 2020
Jul 18, 2020 at 9:24 AM UTC
at night the insomniacs come out to play
they grab fistfulls of their hair and howl at the moon.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 6:40 AM UTC