Futile resistance
Persistent throbbing
No escape
Category: frustration
Subterranean Mind (day 857)
Mind the laugh that cripples pride
Vertical energy lines capturing
Oscillating reverberations
Reflecting off the inner walls of
Animosities subterranean
Mind the lanes that sway about
Shaking footsteps flat beneath
Klop klop. Klop klop.
It’s a Struggle (day 833)
The soul of a man was never here
There was never a judgement day
The seas never parted for sanctity
No dove soared over these skies
There was no path along the way
No dotted map mapped out
The road was never straight
And the going was never easy
I was never taught vowels to speak
Never held to stop the fall
My cuts were never cleaned
No wounds have ever healed
No grapes have ever grown here
The sky has never rained
Carrots have always stunted
No fruit truck ever stopped
There has never been love here
No kind touch from a woman’s hand
No laughter has ever sung here
No peace has ever been found
Get (day 831)
Get things straight
Get things aligned
Get the assets
Get the projects
Get the bonus
Get those toys
Get the happiness
Get the life
Get the address
Get the success
Get the support
Get it all
Get things good
Onward (day 830)
Nothing can explain to me how shallow my pursuit has become
These little drops of innocence don’t break my heart
They tear away my idle hours in bright light fashion
They slit my throat while I stand idle gurgling in the clear air
And caress my weak sin with fabricated desire of adolescence
Here is where I float on, I laugh at distinction
That hands my soldiered frame a paper napkin
Attempting to regulate my copulating heart
Distracted in all it’s splendid gallantry by guns and money
Deeply seating my cold ways into the arms of anarchy
Leading astray the happy holidayers into darkened alleys
Filled with a sulk and a happy hour drink umbrella
Don’t crash my mission statement
Laying there idle in the parking lot
Affix the direction, ignite the heart!
Onward, my god man, onward to the stars
Let it be there and beyond, let it be the future!
Pages (day 820)
All my lies are filled with unskilled talent
Washing out the good pages
Diluting the mixture until I begin to believe them
I should be sentenced to death
For the nonsense I pretend
If it weren’t for the gamblers
For the fortunate good-will
I’d find myself lollygagging lost
In the lies I weave around my butterfly
Dancing in my pretty shoes
And printing more pages to spoil
Ambition’s Race (day 819)
It is not I who shelter your conscience from the bitter truth of denial
It is not my sword that slays last hopes in fitful cries about bloody battle grounds
It is not my spells which sheath truth to avoid speaking amongst those who whisper wrongs by name
Nor is it the timbstrels who dance around the spoils of victory
That shake the knees of that noble fervor so deeply rooted in passions teeth
It is the lofty words of treachery and treason that curse the steeds of ambition’s race
Unintelligently (day 804)
I couldn’t have struggled through your disaster without the common knowledge that you’re batshit crazy. I mean, I knew you were batshit crazy the whole time, but it’s even more tragic when it’s unintelligently directed at me.
Honestly baby, it doesn’t look good on you, that shade of abusive humor and ill suited temper that rolls off your tongue with vigorous encouragement from your minions who are just as uneducated, particularly on the logistics of the complication that’s arisen here, as you are.
I’m not sure what part I should even attempt to understand; my innocent discussion was nitpicked like the crows at the side of the road… Did you really miss the smile about the side of my face? It hurts me when you know I’m a sensitive being and just trying to keep cool.
It’s not even logical to me! It’s like the clock struck bat shit o’clock and out came the fangs hissing because they simply smelt dinner. And I wasn’t even invited to the party in the first place!
God dammit.
To Be Desire as Strangled Divinity (day 798)
Don’t quote me on what I’ve done
Dragging my vowels and
Stripping bare my intentions
I didn’t ask to be desire
Placed high upon intentions
Dancing with beautiful strangers
Yes, lofty instructions
For strangled divinity
No Direction Known (day 797)
I am a victim of a cry
I am saddened no desire
Your denial of pleasure
Of finer things in life
Another way
I am a truth without a cause
A burning candle without a wick
When things explode
I am the hole
Absent of memory
I am a lesson never learnt
Beaten into fibrous lush
Browned and featureless
Lost and empty
Homeless
I am the midnight street walking
A single fluorescent light aglow
Long shadows down the road
And no finger prints
Left outdoors
I am not your golden rule
Your constant stream of pleasure
Lollygagging in suns warmth
Straight and narrow
There is no direction known
