I am the hipster
Fly by my pants nomad
Living by instinct
Freezing each mundane square
Inside distance I tread.
I lie awake at night dreaming,
Feeling pressure to explode my insides
Upon any medium I dare,
To swing my resources
Into left shoe – right shoe
While keeping alive the motion
Of original expression,
Dissolving away cultural expectations
As black coffee drips naked
Upon my stained fingers
Tapping lightly on my conscience,
Erupting in ecstatic orgasm.
Whisper in a little hole
Hold a deep deep breath
Extrapolate
Break strong bonds of resonate
Into a golden fire
Or let it gravitate
Magnetate
Magnetize those eyes
Ride on in a long line of sleepy songs
Brazen with a golden rod
In a tap tap world of
Like and go,
Like and go
And keep whispering
To a lost princess
Holding on to spring’s first tulips
You’re the burden I’ve never heard
Uncontrolled in pity and I’m settling scores
Set down the heavy anvil
Clawing at gates of hell
I’m living inside your head
Dirty conscience a bloody shame
Your battle’s one sad estate
Closed up the shutters
And left dying; vegetate
Your demons be your tickling chin
Twisting and reeling
So shall silence forever be thy name.
I pray for goodness of my actions
I pray they make a mighty stand
I pray good winds take me away
Lest another vice hold my sway
And if I’m going to die in love
I’ll bleed through a torrent sky
My tears – youth in glory years
Mystified and succumbed
And my forgiveness forever run.
I believed just so strongly that you would be the one
So much so that I chairiscuro’d my heart into day and night,
Night and day.
So longing with my open arms I stood uninterested,
Drooping at edges of my sanity
That left holes so deeply imprinted into my unknown matter
I had successfully reprinted what I’d callously called
“Out of Stock.”
Now? Now I would like to re-brand my interests,
Remove all the old artifacts that so delicately had collected
Dusty particles of my memory,
And remind myself how little it mattered in the end –
Dust being all that could sprinkle our dearest dreams –
As raindrops came tumbling down upon a rainbow I’d ignited.
So my desert teardrops exclaimed to my heartbeat, strong,
Oh this desperado desolato,
In an anguish that I could not anticipate…
Because spring had not yet sprung.
I can’t take,
No. More.
I don’t want to take
Bitter trivialities
Into Madness
Cloaking an angelic voice
Like fog that rolls
About my brain
Before I’ve uncovered
Melancholy feelings
Resting just below
Its surface,
Reeling in abysmal horror
As toxins begin
To take to my veins
And surround my insight
With sweet nothings.
I wonder, pacing back and forth in the middle of light,
Is there something that’s become thus turbulent undertow?
Have I designed such fit for feet of strangers?
Long walks alone in a forest captures my heart,
Where has thy sweet sun crept away to? I ask in earnest to nodding nuances,
But no answers come back, though I implore twice for free.
Meanwhile slow approaching whisps sling past in a haze of unkempt mystery
Shrouded in man-made asphalt that collects at its side big puddles
For jumping.
And yet my friends among the silence who stand motionlessly absorbent
Carry weight of history so thickly my stomach begins to grumble,
My breath begins to abate me, and a slow tear finds its way into a hole.
So my wandering takes me back to a place I’ve always been
A question that’s never left the tips of my heart-hole that resists coldness
Keeping my toes so at night but warming my soul into abundantly undone.
Diamonds and bootleggers and a minx on her shoulder
A lady of delight and her little soldiers
Crawled through dark night in pure delight
As whimsical militia men signaled a charge
But what of the giant whose knees’re all bloody?
What of sight who stands tall and proud?
I opened my eyes and in shined diamonds
Yet I could hardly wait
For my late date
Who ate pickles and jam on toast
To buckle her two shoes
As she counted to three
And played guitar on the leftover string
So I tiptoed
Down the sideways road
That whispered: “Let me in,
Let me in, let me in.”
And here I began
With my hand in the sand
To rub diamonds to pearls and ashes
Empty pill bottles slammed into the rusty cages of my heart
Leading my hopelessness on a two part story,
Part 1: The Ruin
Part 2: The End.
I’m sympathetic to wasps that buzz around my head as I divert my pure thoughts,
Only had I known their tapping of my consciousness could harness heaven,
For I was scrubbing furiously with a wire brush
To scrape every last bit of rust from my hopes.