Sunday, June 25, 2017

the circle

i've looked into the distance
i've seen the roads curve
i've looked into my existence
i've seen my demons swerve

there is only one rule on the road of life
speed, as fast as you can go
even if you ride the edge of knife
there are some things you better not know

what seems on the surface
is rarely within
what comes from within
rarely reaches the surface

it's all a risk
a chance
an arrow in the dark
headlights off, accelerator on
never stop, move on, go on
and then maybe you'd dare
to love and
to be loved
who can be the judge
of these things

you can't bottle up emotions
some things are meant to spring
even if you poison the gardens
some birds will find a song to sing

it all comes back to the same place
in the end, we are all alone
when you're looking in the mirror for your face
do you see a killer with a heart of stone?

Tuesday, June 20, 2017

Medusa's Hairbrush

Does Medusa brush her locks
With a hairbrush made of fish bones?
Do her children snipe and bite
Till she fills their jaws up with stones?

Does she let her locks slither wild?
Does she wash and oil her poisonous mane?
Does she preen hypnotized in mirrors?
Does she think of herself as vain?

Perhaps Medusa has a stylist
A brave knight with stones for eyes
His fingers bandaged, bitten, broken
His mouth only filled with sighs

Is Medusa's hair all mangled and tangled
Maybe she should tie them up in tubes
But as we wonder about her head
Are we just going to ignore her pubes?



--
Don't look at me. 

Thursday, June 15, 2017

as the world crumbles

it whithers around the edges
little pieces fall to ground
the world crumbles without remorse
even when no one's around

the crowd of watchers gathers
shoulder to shoulder on this plane
their cloaks hang in tatters
their minds slightly insane

they watch the world crumble
and move from side to side
the litanies they mumble
stink of misplaced pride

and now the pinprick wound
implodes on its own soul
where there was a world once
now just a gaping hole



Saturday, June 10, 2017

when darkness dies

who knows what comes next
when the knife is still vibrating
in the back of darkness
is there an end to this mess

if there is an end to pain
an end to this incessant hunger
if there is an answer to this anger
please shove a spike in my brain

I've tried to rip out poems
from pages of newspapers
but it's only death and misery
wrapped in morbid sensations

the sickness, does it have an end?
will I ever smile or just pretend?
will I ever see the sky again?
in the desert of my head, will it ever rain?

no flowers grow here, sir
it's only arid land as far as the eye can see
and beyond the dunes, there is ice
brutal and no even twice as nice

--
It looks disjointed. It looks like blocks of text. But it makes sense if you read it without prejudice.

Friday, June 2, 2017

cities inside us

there is a city in each of us
filled with people, thoughts, memories
littered with scars and bastard stories
there is a city
in each of us

some cities are vast and some microscopic
some carrying infinities, some hung on a stick
sans atmosphere or enveloped in clouds so thick
that you're not even sure if something's there

(I've been writing this poem for three days now)

I wish I were able to
get lost in a city
with no map
or inner direction
to guide me
maybe everyone is lost
and they just fake knowing their way
if you don't know where you're going
can you even get lost?

no stars to guide the land ships
just a black and empty night
fireflies pierce the gloom with light
and that, my friend, is a lovely sight
--
I broke the flow of this poem. I did. My fault for keeping it marinating it for three days.

Thursday, June 1, 2017

Eye Contact

I've looked into the abyss
And the abyss said to me
My eyes are up here, asshole
What the fuck you looking at?

Me? Oh, I'm all about eye contact
But dear abyss you have eyes everywhere
I keep looking into you, and honestly
I feel a little scared

Like I'm sitting in an exam
Naked and unprepared
And the eyes are looking into me
Ripping through the layers

And at the core of me
As you can see
Is a tiny eye
Staring back at the abyss
Oh, my my!

Saturday, May 27, 2017

On A Smoky Evening

come here
and sit with me darling
I'm going to tell you things
that have been on my mind
it's after two
(as always)
and a lady from YouTube is singing jazz in my ears
some whiskey would be good right now
but I've only got music and memories
I've got accident stories
of kisses, misses, wishes
of things I should have done by now
is that why I am listening to blues
so late at night
when it just feels oh so right
the dog of memories
barks silently, but oh, does it bite!
I've been looking at my lists darling
there are things I need to watch and read
and if I could catch my thoughts from straying
like some pissed off cowboy made of failures
i swear there's some serendipity at work
some ancient clock ticking same for us both
i swear there's some magic in the air
that makes me glad we're under the same moon
i had to say a lot of things darling,
but, soon.

--
Edit* yeah, there was a typo in the title, but we live and learn.