The diamonds shone like broken glass
Upon the midnight street
And all atop the walls were wet
Their white eyes glint & sleek

Then from afar a gnome appeared
An angel flashed on furry feet
The boulevard became a river
While waiting crowds began to quiver

I was in a motel watching
Whiskey in my hand
Her breath was soft, the wind was warm
Someone in a room was born
~~~

Accomplishments:

To make works in the face
of the void
To gain form, identity
To rise from the herd-crowd

Public favor
Public fervor

even the bitter Poet-Madman is
a clown
Treading the boards
~~~

Cold electric music
Damage me
Rend my mind
w/your dark slumber

Cold temple of steel
Cold minds alive
on the strangled shore

Veterans of foreign wars
We are the soldiers of
Rock & Roll Wars
~~~

Whether to be a
great cagey perfumed
beast
dying under the
sweet patronage
of Kings
& exist like luxuriant
flowers beneath the
emblems of their
Strange empire
or by mere insouciant
faith
slap them, call their cards
spit on fate & cast hell
to flames in usury

by dying, nobly
we could exist like
innocent trolls
propogate our revels
& give the finger to the
gods in our private
bedrooms

let’s rather, maybe,
perhaps,
get ******* out in
the open, & by
swelling, jubilantly
Magnificently, end them.

My poetry is lazy, my poetry is shy
my poetry is insecure, her confidence doubts why
to speak, to share, to advocate
though her purpose serves to propogate
the silly initial reluctance I struggle with each day, minuite, hour
I sit here strumming guitar strings like cowboys sail the seven seas
and my poetry wonders how its past has come to be

My poetry wonders how its future will come to be
my poetry wonders how its present will continue to be
yet all the while, each day minute hour
I sit here like staples binding pages of pudding and my mom is sleeping
upstairs, peacefully

Is there ever a stagnant peacefully?
Is there ever a stagnant misfortune?
"well that is that and this is this"

The concept of legacy distracts thee
As I ironically set my thoughts free
The question is ...
Are we blessed with the ability
To achieve success and virility
Or is it that
We"re obsessed with a conquest
Of overcoming our sterility

As religion tries it's very best to **** off the human race
We try and finish off the rest, abusing our only living place
Overpopulating the nest, as we stare the sun directly in it's face
Until the final test, lets reserve front row seats in outer space

I hope we"re seated comfortably atop a Martian rafter
Witnesses of an absolutely beautiful disaster
Ghosts of dinosaurs let out Collective belly laughter
As the earth swallows a pill the very morning after
Collaborative suicide, if we could all only work together
No time to bide as our global warning comes from weather
I truly would pray, if it's not too late
For humans race to live and propogate
Spread peace and love try and **** hate
And Let us grasp our destiny and fate

The boiling Sun is shining at high noon
Time to act now, not a minute too soon
Grab an instrument, let"s all get in tune
So we can say cheers on Jupiter"s moon.

They sit until stirred through the air by stomping feet,
their beauty left behind in an abundance of forgotten fate,
dirtied by the bottoms of soles whom drift with paltry paths.
Have they any recognition for their once grandeur existance,
or the visually vibrant ambiance they had to relinquish?
They go disregarded by many whom hold the same discouraging weight,
their fractured features left by the taughting aura of the feet,
mistaken for nothing but miniscule fragments of the world.
People try to propogate some sort of prominent impact,
and end up forgetting that everyone leaves.