It is remarkable how
Even with our last clean dirt
We remain entitled,
Oblivious to our learning
And passions
To remain pleasantly
Saturated.
Category: madness
Aces and Fools (day 1704)
A fool to be of enemies
And sorrows of the mind,
When all around is family
Ready to serve thy desires.
Yet many a soul is loneliest
Wishing, forevermore,
Of company amidst thy thoughts,
Who shan’t ever play thy ace.
Chewing Gum (day 1695)
I smoked today’s last heavy gun
Two by two and just for fun.
Along the plain I saw the sun;
Little bum, little bum.
Cauliflower, chewing gum
I am going home to see dear mom.
Messy Letters (day 1694)
A letter came today
To say
I had a missing cause.
I had a note
That filled me up
With angles and
Ink blotches.
Cold Personalities (day 1688)
I’m undone,
Crisscrossing paths
Of two strangers
Among many stranger,
Colder personalities.
Could a wind
Possibly blow
In opposite directions
At the same time,
Splitting thoughts
Outlined with questions
And forgetting to
Count down from ten
After panic strikes in.
Steam (day 1683)
All that’s left is a silhouette
Screaming out in bursts of steam,
Each echo, forever damped.
Each heartbeat, forever cold
And solemnly lifting this black trailing gown
Lightly off Lucifer’s cold ground,
Frozen unevenly like ghastly daggers
So elegantly strapped
To my heaving chest in triumph.
And so fades thy vision.
Yearn (day 1679)
That burn
That yearns
And feels so real
As it scrapes
The back sides
Of my eyelids,
Reminding me
There is lots
Left to do.
Weeping Willow (day 1676)
It is with this intention
That I grow into unique
But not a unique so unique
It looses it’s physique
For lost and alone
Was never a soul
To be borne or simply left
Just lost in the lagoon
Trampling skunk cabbage
And swinging aimlessly
About low hanging branches
Of a bountiful weeping willow
To find the end to gather up
A handful of bull-rushes
That I so delicately paste
Upon the small of my back
To become my wings as I carry on
Forward and truth,
Happy New Year to all
The game is upon us now.
Mine Own Dagger (day 1674)
Dagger’s claws
At my shadow –
Cast upon the wall,
This silent story
Unfolded from
The backseat of a
Four horse pulled carriage.
Creaking springs and
Horses hooves
Left the night full of content.
But I, macabre,
Silently went;
No companion at my side.
Yet lightly had I begun my way
When I recognized my fate:
My future was –
Decidedly –
Not within my luggage close,
But upon my back,
Mine own enemy,
Cloaked in
One thousand names
I shall speak of nevermore.
Tobacco Blood (day 1671)
I am an ancient sailor who
Has sent in for the weather,
Cigarette and pea coat fending
Off my worst of every thoughts.
But aye, the closest thing to land
Is but a mirage in my eye,
So I will keep on biting in
To my twist of tobacco blood.
