"unattending" poems
These charcoal dark shadows hang beneath eyes of carbon blue.
Carrying the memories of sinister scenes, washed clean, but stained with the salt of regret.
Shame.
Mortification.
The sorrows of living within the frame of some unseen stranger's lack of obligation- irreverent and unattending to the consequences of unrestrained pleasure.
In the background, the slick black vapor slides back into illusion's nest, unfound. Within this restless cradle, ever-raging, silent battles fought.
That daily dose which nearly burned and boiled and blotted them out.
Never triumphant.
A pawn in a profiteer's pyramid scheme.
A beast in bloom, bound to eternal flowering.
Poverty empowering the privileged hand. Our death, stretched far and wide still tortures and taunts and tears us from peace- day after day, week after week, and year after year.
Trapped in a cage whose bars are not there. Whose locks have no key.
We scream and cry til out voices break and our tonsils bleed, but no one on the other side can hear.
We play our part for family and friends but deep down inside we know how this ends. We pretend to go on, but we know we are dead.
We are victims of big pharma and our ribbon is red.
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 9:21 AM UTC
The years flashing within my head
Only the latest two
First in peace but now in question
On my timeline of you.
All the memories blazing past
Lost nostalgia once evermore.
I came to love you, love you strong
Conjuring intangible blood and gore.
In our fresh acquaintance, I thought you so
With unaltered personality
Defiantly I have seen you change
By reaction to reality
Your back has turned, unattending
It looks from here to be so far
Tell me why please, oh please I plea
Cause I do not know who you are
Anymore.
Dec 27, 2012
Dec 27, 2012 at 11:57 PM UTC
In pal group of sorts,
Young lads strolled by,
Clutching their trailing backpacks.
Up my spectacles I peeped,
The bus hadn’t arrived,
So I kept on itching me wart.
Cornered myself right,
Where I would lean,
Be fond of nature,
How lowly we see these things
Seeing lovely canaries
Taking on one another in flight.
A little o’er some minutes skipped by,
How time flies;
Som’a my sanity still in check.
A passing car:
A splashing mar on my maroon pants,
In road-rush-water style.
Cold flutters,
The unattending ave company,
Suspending the fun for a shower,
Eyescaping the sight.
Nay, not for the wonders of earth
Escaping an orator’s stutter.
Such of which tale,
Tales of showering birds,
They rowed feathers in a shower
And chattered and chirped in a pool,
This beside a bus-stop tent,
Where I looked on,' unstaled.
Jun 6, 2017
Jun 6, 2017 at 8:43 PM UTC