Selection One

Selection one dictates.

This frail logic negates

My heart

And blows apart reason

That never rated or related

My hopeless ego.

A stain that drips

And spreads through skin

Is akin to my dearth.

My birth a mistake

I mistook for a miracle.

I can walk and talk

And feel the vehement sounds

Of the open sky

Rumbling...

Tumbling...

Forward and back.

I am sick with pity

For all the witty things

Never spoken.

Only broken limbs or broken hearts

To pull apart what motive

To move.

I am a dying breed,

I need the resurrection

Of a selection

I can limit to one.

Relation Association

Hard-pressed for redemption,

The savior responds with greed,

My need is crushed by waves

Of illness rising like a snake in the abdomen,

Spreading into the pockets of love

To poison and dispatch.

This despondence endures.

We can dialogue for hours

Ending with the sour lies

That keeps my brain awake

In a state of shock and allure.

Oh, how these fabrications

Have overcome my elation

And swindled me into seclusion

Of my own vocation.

For I do admit I am an idealist,

So these lies I attend to,

I bend to my own satisfaction,

Because happiness is only

But a fraction of what I feel.

And the rest is merely a test

That time will authenticate.

It’s never too late to change.

Ode to Obligations

Listen:

Can you hear that faraway clamor?

Perhaps, Poseidon’s ploy to destroy

Our own recited scheme...

Closer than remains, the sea, the holy scene,

And the acreage advancing like a rampart between.

That tumultuous din that reverberates across the tilted plains of this old world,

Connective tissues to something new.

Our own barren flesh made weak by impotence of voyage,

And theory, askew.

Arbitrary sway, this day is another’s, not our own.

So refrain be our only hope,

And through a hallowed scope,

We pray for home.

Punishing Passion

I’d like to hear a song that doesn’t preach of passion,

For I am weary of such banter.

There is proof that love is only fashion,

By the claim of the enchanter.

Let us live by the charm of reticence,

If only for a day,

And divide the sick and sorrowful,

Let loving words betray.

Though next to kin, the skin I’m in,

Seems less like royal rind,

The sequence of love’s frequency

Enamors both our kind.

So drawn together, torn apart,

This story does amend,

Our hearts like damaged turbines

Pumping crudely to contend.

The Camel's Back

I would spit venom
In your eye
As you were lying there
Drunk as fuck
And praying for sex.
I'd kick you through the wall
And all the house
Would fall on you.
Your face the reflection
Of my rejection of you.
Words spoke too soon
With no ears to listen.
I'm more furious
Than a Bengal tiger
Whose stripes glow red
With deprecation,
I need a vacation
From your bullshit.

A Discourse on Momentum

I abide by the law of gravity
To stick always to the ground
And never to the sky,
For I fear that I would float away
To deconstruct this perfect scene
Where imperfection steals the stage.
I could lie in the crook of Atlas's arms
And permit his authority to govern
My corporeal character,
Despite my endeavor to keep pace
With the race of the moon.
A monsoon would further propagate
Such provocation of reaching the nation's shores
Upon the tumultuous swell
That cracks the Pacific sand like a slave.
The mythical mantra uttered,
My hands grasping new land
As the esoteric cloud coverage splits apart,
And the sky is endless, open, and blue.

Character Names

I could make just one word
Sing like some exotic bird,
Or train my heart to
Mitigate my howls for attention.
I circle parties to stain my stomach in beer,
I fear I'll abandon hope.
I cannot cry over spilled milk.
What gain must I obtain
Before I am happy with my life,
In this crawling stretch of skin I'm in.
I detect the sin of humanity
In my solar plexus,
So I pull up my diaphragm
To make it squirm and struggle.
To my dismay, it does escape.
What piece of scrutiny
Must I heed, but mutiny,
For it's all I've ever known.
I'll forget who I am with a new mask,
And find that time
Is defiling me.
I'm beguiling myself
Into believing differently.
Identity is truly an amusing place
To lose your mind.

Dealing Duality

This versus that,

As a matter of fact,
Is a misconceived notion
Running deeper than the ocean.
For all is one,
And one is all,
And even though
We think we are small,
Our cause of nature,
Our evolutionary tact,
Has caused the soul to echo back
From salts and clays,
From mud and earth,
In death, departed...
Returned:
REBIRTH!
And from this point,
Perception
Seems to focus less
On me.
I become again
An earthquake or a baby boy to be.
The rationality of duality
Forever lost on me.

I Am Myself, A Disguise

I am myself, a disguise
Who's prior shape implies
The myth.
The man created,
The vacated host,
And it seems the former
I have loved the most.
My face, a ruse.
A mirror to amuse
My arcane humor.
I take for granted
The sins of a mortal,
That in my life,
I am beyond my own
Control.
Each whim is sought
To perpetuate thought
Like a blossoming rose.
Upon wind that shakes
The Earth,
I retire to my worth.
I am worthless.
A shell knowing nothing
But empty space.
I taste the sweet complexities
Of a life all mine,
But not for a moment
Do I satisfy the deep thirst
That I do burst with fervor
For a prayer to sleep.
A care to keep
Or hold like a newborn child.

Lost, Unfound

Your heart turns a corner
And speeds away.
It roars through the rain
On a darkened day.
The gutters of buildings
High above
Collect the quiet of
Our retiring love.
Your lips are knotted
As you come to amass
The godforsaken sins
That have come to pass.
So I hear the heart flee
Out of love, out of hope,
And I pray god saves me
From this violent scope.
Our love has fallen
And skinned it's knee.
I will forgive and forget
If it crawls back to me.
I will kiss it each night
Before I sleep.
My broken heart to swallow,
My soul to keep.

Voyage to Euphoria

Your smile is a ship
I'd like to sail
Across the Atlantic,
Carefully calculating
The course and speed
And curvature
Of your leering lips.

Ardor Vs. Instant

If I could crack open the sun,
I would make it bleed for you
Like eternal magma
From a blissful fruit.
Sunshine would drench the land
And we would gravitate to
The music of the moon
Until the sky cleared up
And dried us up like
Seaweed on the beach.
Forever we would sift
Beneath sand,
And grow young,
As tide and time
Became foreign,
And our love
Swelled like the birth
Of a new sun,
Long awaited by the people
Of faraway planets.

Ode to Apprehension

I slide left and jump right into
Catastrophe. Catches.
Fleeting memories stockpiling and
Jamming. Projecting.
Each day more prominent than the
Next. Connect.
I cling to the steady echo of
Solitude. Silence.
Quaking behind closed doors, I
Fear. Anxiety.
Is here.

No I In Me

I crawl through days of desperation
In search of communication.
That vital role of talk more and talk less
Description of sounds and syllables
Reaching through glass and pulling up
Nothing.
But yet I grow to meet my words
That fall like birds at my feet
And thereby give occupation
To the nation of me.
My ego torn in treaded tracks
Breaking backs and breaking forward
To induce this creative coma.
A man or woman or child
Would go wild to find out what I am
Despite my need to tear myself
Apart and start again
And again.
My fear is measured by my eyes,
I recognize my pith to be retired
Each day I admire myself.
Upon sun that breaks the night,
My fast is not for food,
But rather life or something like it.
What I see at day and night
Propels my right to be insane.
My brain is a trap that I gladly
Step into.
In my head, I vanish
To banish my waking life
That has become a plague,
An unbearable infection.
The selection of words is limited
To the farthest parts of dreams,
It seems that I am finished,
Yet I breathe.

The Incarceration of What Feels

The incarceration of what feels
Reveals in most unlikely manners
The weaponry we fuse to our skin,
Saluting people with the compassion
Of sin.
Our mortal cries of horror lies
At the bottom of our love,
A dove, beheaded.
We wed husbands to wives
To lives of destruction and gloom,
Sets of family tombs,
Set apart and growing daily.
Our smothered youth developing
Mold and growing cold as we pass
The age of reason and bypass absurdity.
Smiles reflect the years that detect
Our elation.
Our motivation falls to research
And shuns mortality like a plague,
Infection at the rate of billions.
The epitome of technology
Breeding the race of dumb beasts,
Numb to the sensory acuity
That once relayed our state of mind,
Our kind is dying
To incarcerate anything that feels.

Foreplay for the Future, Replay

Coming together or falling apart,
Our stunned stupor retraced over and over.
The parts that pull and push and pry
Endlessly cry havoc.
They fry our retinas and blow apart
With slip-shot gunmetal silence.
This gift that gives and keeps on
Swelters collective memory into a blizzard
And rains down on our existential moments,
Foreplay for the replaying future.
Our past a magnified tack of wit and woe.
We grow the seeds from dying plants
And like small gods, we begin anew.

Walking in the Shade

My feet slip on frost
That sneaks beneath .
My uncertain steps
Paving the moments I meant
To save for something radical.
My posture bent to malcontent,
My leaden legs like loose
Endearing knobs that pivot 'round,
Coming down in the shade of
Buildings that stretch to heights
I'll never guess.
I detest that I am landlocked,
And the sun splinters through
The cracks and attacks my
Vital mission.
The ignition to my future
Lost.
A voice once mine I hear again,
Encapsulated in ice and
Roaring down the fractured
Cracks of sunlight
Which I step through,
Mindless and unaware.
It's only fair
That I walk in the shade.