Thursday, January 18, 2018

fathom

six fathoms deep
try to understand
if you can
sometimes
there are no answers
to questions that

      linger

unattached
rogue balloons
of words
strung by punctuation
a question mark
is a hook inside my heart

and while I am sleeping deep
below the white and blue
I will think of the question
and the answers I wish I knew

Sunday, January 14, 2018

underwater

it all looks so different
swimming, slurred, shimmering
as I look up through the water
the sun is a bubbling blurred bulb in the blue sky

fish swim by me
their meat station
as the salt water
bleaches my bones

a house of bones
with no one inside
forever asleep, eyes wide open
with a grin that I can't hide

and if I dream, it will be water
filling me up, surrounding me
in darkness, in the cold
there is nothing left to feel

everything is cool
everything is calm
fish have made their homes
in the bones of my palm
---

Water theme, man. I am alright. I just find drowning a fascinating topic for poems. There is a serenity to the ocean, to be underwater, to stay there and never breathe air again.

to drown

to drown
is a dream
take me in
the depths
of your warm embrace

liquid mother
fill me up
I'll breathe you in
till we are one
and one are we

let me sink
in your love
hold me close
and break my heart
with your love

and then rip my skin
eat my flesh and lick my bones
bury me in your sands
at the bottom
like a stone

so I will stay for a thousand years
till the ships come
to idolize
my remains

Wednesday, January 10, 2018

Blue

the blue tinge in the sky
is rushing up to meet the night
as the moon floats inwards
on a boat made of stars

watching us kill, fuck, die
less than insects, more than gods
drowning in the gutters, seeking skies
pushing through, against all odds

the dark grey of night
is an orange hue of hope
awakening, enlightening
the power to cope

with the bullshit and the lies
as the teeth threaten to bite
with hate on their lips, rage in their eyes
we stare, we stare

at the turquoise-tinted skies

Friday, January 5, 2018

cluster

just beyond the line of sight
right behind your back
the demons crawl out with their knives
determined to attack

12 strong, telepathic tones
the monster gang is here
to kill
and not make any friends

inch by inch
the webs they spin
to keep the bodies
fresh within

no rot shall touch
their special prize
that they'll soon
eat from the eyes

in the empty sockets
they'll slowly make their nest
for they'll bring up tiny demons
and give them their best

--
It's 2 AM and I am feeling horrible. How's new year going ya shits?

A Gift

Out of a swamp
that thing has stumbled
into the night
that thing will mumble
words of wisdom
words of fear
what says that thing
for nothing is clear
it's filthy stinking
smelling like death
it crawls out slinking
drawing breaths
its nails are sharp
its eyes are black
its teeth are razors
there's a tail on its back
it roars and growls
it stalks and prowls
for things that hide
and things that ride
then in the jungle
this thing disappears
and in my dreams
it appears, reappears
i wake up screaming
my nightmares blue
the gift of thing
now i give to you. 

Tuesday, January 2, 2018

shatter

words clatter, tumble, shatter
against the frigid floor
the slithering sound spatters
sticking to the locked door

the world is but a shell
containing pain and horror
in this cauldron of fear
all emotions slowly stir

they are banging their bones
against the bars of their cell
they're all stuck alone
in their own private hell

it's not hot and it's not cold
it's a simple wet existence
for the young and the old
no scope of deliverance

the book of fate is closed shut
with a bang that still echoes
spilled ink, a pen lies broken
their secrets no one knows