Inspiration has laid waste
To a plethora of heart songs
And itchy memories,
Each of which stands tall
On the distant horizon
Glimmering in a sea of illusion
That makes it hard to look back at.
For the sun beats down so strong,
And ghosts most definitely do
Walk here amongst us.
There will never come a time
When they fade away,
For my last lifetimes visions
Still slide with me
And my future lifetimes
Still visit me,
But today I still do not look back
For this road forward
Still has clear recognition
To which I need not gamble
To play at.
Tag: gamble
Taut (day 2833)
Each glow has been filtered
Down a line of education
Memories clouded
By acid rain
And electromagnetic radiation.
In spite it all
Each effort
Each consciousness
Each advocacy
No singular action could resolve
Bitterness we all so feel strong
Yet must we search on?
Should we seek to find answers
So desperately within our reach?
Should we gamble and risk,
Dream and desire,
Fight and protest,
Gripe and lament?
The glow, ever glow,
Keep the strings taut.
Sewn With My Name (day 1285)
When you whisper my name a thousand miles away
A little fairy floats from you on to me
With a gift wrapped in satin, sewn with my name.
Moments keep building through conquest and torture,
With every gamble perching icicles upon our brows
That tickle and fancy and etch out our fate.
My deepened breath at the sight of your fairy
Keep me awake, for no thought should go wasted;
No lingering memory or heart pitter-patter missed.
Just like my serpent, I’m alive with no name,
All else flickers and slithers; lost into bane.
‘Goes here with my fairy, a thousand miles away.
Road Remains (day 873)
So which was my desire
Of places, spaces
I’ve left to be here
That took me tither
Away from the others
Into chance of a matter
Designs of instance
Practically insistence
To come from without,
…within
‘Cause I’ve left
Desires: left
Intuition crippled
Gamble is gone
Where the road remains on
Mittens (day 513)
Blitz that awkward mother fucker
Lost in some kind of pre-pubescent bliss
Thinking the toadstools are real
Living in a fantasy world
Gamble your life away to a blind princess
Who listen with her wallet
Dying sweet surrenders
As she picks apart her next innocent victims
Don’t you watch the business son?
Lord’s saying your nickel’s no longer good here
You put your peanuts next to mine
I, who sit here with diamonds in my eyes
Falling through loop holes and digging through broken bones
You aint got no footsteps here son
Now put on your mittens and find your way home
A Gamble (day 7)
It’s late at night, I can feel the blood running through my body like left over pizza
My ears are piqued, somewhat similar to concerned gophers peeking about for danger
The lights are turned down low, but not nearly low enough for transmission faults
I can feel the soul crushing sound emanating from the four doors of my sedan
and I’m feeling like trouble.
7 o’clock runs through my veins like the trouble I’m meant to be
Ringing of laughter and dreams I can play the movies I know last two hours long
But that’s alright, my judgement’s impaired with the fresh smell of a falling sun
It’s an amazing day turned amazing night, lovers are high with sinister anticipation
and I’m looking for trouble.