Poetry

Six of One

How would it feel To be split sideways My yellow flesh flayed For all the world to see Easily frazzled, stressed My greatest fears realized When there’s six of one Obviously half a dozen of the same Mineral of the earth Animal of the labor Vegetable of the soul Angel of the morning

Pale Orchid

Truly happy people are sickening No one is ever that happy all the time Life is short. Forgive quickly. Love truly, laugh uncontrollably. And never regret anything that made you smile. What if I want to? I let the rage fester, poisoning my conscious Blistering pustules of fear infect my exterior It feels so good to be bad Fighting against the pure, the innocent, the youth To protect the one inside From the unknown Victim of my circumstance Product of my birth Means nothing to me. I had an uneventful childhood and opportunities Squandered it on vice and gilded antiquities It used to make me sad To dwell on the things that I have lost I have become hardened against the good In order to restore what was gained

Up to Eleven

I haven’t a song in my heart All I hear is the dull roar of broken dreams Pounding in my head like a steam train It’s a wonderful world of color Everything is played out in black & white For me Underdetermined to keep moving forward Sailing off a cliff into oblivion I want my freedom from the old ways Before my life’s calendar end days Splayed out like a corpse from fantasy Mercy, mercy me

Vandalisum

Like a thief in the night So uninspired, self-loathing The Earth shook the Devil’s hand The kiss of the vampire moon The innocence of a newborn babe Flames of fire licking at my salty tears Take a long walk off the short end of a pier The stride is resolute, coupled with wounded pride Very bad things run through your mind When the face owns no language A blank wall of indifference Landed punches sound like cinder block No pain, no lacerations, just scars

Mid-afternoon snack

Hand slams the clock I need to roll to start the rock Chaos controlled Only in my dreams Eight hours of darkness Rage remains bottled Life is unlike its seams Why is my moment such a mess Swipe of the card makes it stop Only until tomorrow’s swipe lock

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