Wednesday, December 28, 2011

kill me

trespassing leaders
leaping grievers
groveling heathens
head count

The Trees No Longer...

Over the green hills yonder,
the divine tree shimmers
shaking gentle leaves glimmers.
A lonely maiden saunters.
Restless mind and soul bothers
the local animal and plant life that simmers
discomforted with shivers...
she is often fonder
of the decaying leaves and the growth of mushrooms.
For they are delicate and moist.
She picks a shroom of gloom
decides it is a poisonous choice...
Yet she swallows it whole, she is ready for her tomb
The trees no longer rejoice.


My hand covers the picture
of what I used to be.
Sometimes my awkward structure
frightens even me.
Depression settles in my mind;
hissing, weaving, exaggerating cries...
leaving no room for anyone in my life, I'm in a bind.
My sessions of self-loathing are not lies.
However, I see a clearing
when a smile on another's face
breaks through my gray disgrace glaring  
A light of sunbeams grace.
There is a hope in the mess
of rubble, a wave has a crest.

villanelle-it sucks

Petal of disaster
Non mechanical behavior denies
The program of the impactor

If one my try without laughter,
gardens will suffer due to insufficient cries.
Petal of disaster

Will try to consume the master
protect with soothing vibes
reprogram the impactor

Battle the contractor,
deploy the bribers
petal of disaster

Soon to exploit the crafter
of terrible weapons that tries
to reprogram the impactor

Look for a relaxer
do not have a reprise
petal of disaster
reprogram the impactor.

Thursday, December 15, 2011

I just want to throw this out there.... everything I've written I hate. It's all terrible. Mistakes everywhere. Imperfection galore. These poems are just stupid. I don't even know why I try.


"... the rest of the time you are left with your own thoughts." Sol Lewitt.
 That austere quality of a mood
as if you've jumped out and left the room
for a reason in a moment or two
relapse into multitudes of conclusions
cascading from leaf to leaf
that falls at the same rate
as money from your wallet.
Do not trick your heart into believing
that seeing a friend is for the benefit of man.
Leave them and be alone,
they do not even like you anymore.
"I know you don't like people coming over," she says
and how am I supposed to feel with negative comments
such as that?

Self Portrait

Detachment and disassociate. Abbreviate and enclosure. Hermit and recluse.
All of which are too loose,
so they hang around a noose. 

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Words Were Exposed

Words were exposed until they broke.
I do not speak words well when I become too personal with a friend.
Taunt me with lies
I believe so much from you
but I become led astray
when you start changing
but I am stuck and unaware.
Just like I have always been.
I am moving on so that I do not have to deal
with games of emotions and attachment.

Oil Bassin

Single saint of departure
we move at last
climbed out to sea
cool wind over me.

Dead Flowers

I have acquainted loss with guilt, a beguiling jilt.
Somewhere, once, words were spoken
like lots of geese caught in some grease.
Without a moon, shade, or time;
evangelical hours would soon concern
the scout of thirds tripped into absurdity.
Analog doubly foraged the ice
subtly harkening, "Bring me back nine"
and then the night consumed before us,
our eyes teamed with maggots.
Disgust cheered the wolves of towers
leaving us ill in some dead flowers.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Empty Pathetic

Avast abhorrence unabashed by all obscured and
discolored union, sanctimonious florid.
Disclosure unwanted discover the thunder.
Tangled strings and needles
proved to me to beaten
the nots in the tree are complicated.