Poem: Inscrutable Wisdom

Dream of having nothing at all, and think

what you’d be, fossilized snot bubble, skipping light

curmudgeon complaining, casting darts on the lawn in formation

spelling “THAT’S IT” or “THIS IS IT” just to fuck with people

in the morning

on their day off, they can’t read it

at first as they haven’t the angle, it takes time

to understand the meaning

of a disappointing slime leaking, it’s nothing.

 

at all dummy, this is nothing just like everything.

But people loved it, they went crazy

chanting intricately in column formations

and shit, assuming it’s a warning, filling a hole

with wishes written down and set

aflame, until a pit of ashes in its place

raked by an elderly Chinese man

wondering what the words had meant

becomes the sole symbol, showing that shadow

obscures nothing of note, and mystery is wanting

not finding a solution, the search itself is.

 

Poem: Inscrutable Wisdom

Poem: Nightmare 2

I shock into the world everyday

at dawn, I’m surrounded by trenchcoats

surrendering to the past, flicking butts

from day to night, as the world turns

they learn not at all, as they are all fury

fear and fellowship, so to speak down

is knowing the time of day, the masses huddled

no more, girded by spiteful fury

depression draining life forever

Poem: Nightmare 2

Poem: Goddess

She don’t feel like living, or that’s what she said

and at least there’s a stitch of life, in that

expressing the knowledge of a lack of spirit

belies the truth, that we wish

everyone for something more, crawling through storm

strains yielding none at all progress

building from scraps to torrents, life is a torture

tornado, hurricane house fire.

 

She’s a tangible beauty, oddly see-through

personality parable, retracting with vicious abandon

what springs from the self

fulfilling prophesy, shaman the world over

know her intoxication, dying like ink

colored intangibly nameless shades

of blue and red, wordless novels in her eyes

predict apocalypse, set the sky on fire.

 

Also a playtime puppy, bothersome occasionally

in an endearing way, running loops

through familiar topics etching the earth

with crop circles, so that the meaning is hidden

prior to completion, making a short story

longer than a lifetime, and twice as hazardous

for those who mistake the meaning

pervading rants, they are as shadows at dawn.

 

We are connected in every way

all the time, each of us living through the other’s

thrill buried in a musical wavering

tuned precisely, is our chaotic lovemaking

with the world of artistic expression

appreciated mastery, she is a goddess

for her I flagellate, sometimes though less

than I rejoice, bathed in warm light.

Poem: Goddess

Poem: Violation

Booming red sky in my ears donging a dinner bell,

in hell the wolves pant breathless, beer batter brown

sharp and dripping with blood, and the pain when they bite

explodes like the sun at dawn of the breaking day,

in the end it’s your fault, you classless idiot.

 

If only, I had I a fork to plunge I would,

sepsis be damned is my sentiment scratching

the record losses catalog, mumbling a masochist

broken glass throttle, covered in Tabasco

salty with fire and shame for what you did.

 

She said she didn’t feel safe in your hearth

because you are a paper ball, kicked flat

and stinking because of the pain you visited

on us all, for now standing villainous

over yourself straining and weeping in the dirt.

 

Pain is a parable tornado, each lesson is

as well as never won’t be, for naught is to do

but suffer here altogether in a poison pit,

regret sizzling and sealing our flaps together

until you suffocate, peacefully dead alone.

Poem: Violation