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
Tag: teeth
In Your Teeth (day 805)
I’ve been watching you shift the ever blurring lines that hold society in check
Taking them in your teeth and letting the camera capture your raw moments of sex
I want to understand what it’s like to plan this desire like a premeditated killer
Drinking tea over strewn socks and dirty magazines in a black and white image
I never thought I’d hold your hand walking down this hall
Penis stuck between your legs and there isn’t even any kissing
I’m not sure I understand the lines being blurred here
For they exist singularly in figments of imaginations
Directed by lines of square adults and their best intentions for children
I’ve been watching you shift the ever blurring lines that hold society in check
As you walk away veiled in a cloak of mastermind and glitter
I’m not sure the intention towards my understanding and which end is right
But this is my effort to blur my own lines of this never ending puzzle
Thought Battles Clutter (day 705)
When the fury of time
Grips down on your mind
Cursing your veins
Panic holds the reins
Breath becomes shorter
Thought battles clutter
Heat builds inside
Mind flirting high
These battling moments
Painstaking engagements
Are where men arise
And children will die
With hard grit teeth
Throw away, impeach!
Throw off this shell
Begone with hell!
Rage from our eyes
Come alive, don’t die!
Charge on, smartly forth
Take heed of the course
Phillip Gustaminsky (day 675)
Ahem, psst.
Psst.
You there
Yes, it is me
The alligator that talks
It is I
I have something to tell you
Yes indeed it is true
But
You must come closer
So I can tell you my story…
Phillip can be purchased here.
Bloody Knuckles (day 372)
Fully loaded with iron fists of chance
Looking for a way into the new world
Looking for a breath of romance
Knuckles bloody with beating
Hands taught with the rings of chains
Guilty with the pressures of intoxication
Hacked by the curses of Mordor
Beaten by the eyes of the remedy
And soaking in the sin of the distance
Stepping over stones
Looking at hands full of soot
Hands, full of lines
Left over memories
Stories that need wise eyes to tell
Cards that stare back at the sin
Groove talking, sinister dealing
Mad man making, life(less) wielding
And here I sit, working with endless gaps
Pressed between my teeth
Like the random stones of time
Breaking beneath the uneven ground
Ground like flesh in the night
Foolish sinners who mask their pride
Lust will not await the banked remorse
Love will be lost in the ground up strength
Perhaps then the beautiful wisps of dust
Will float their way north
In an never ending spiral towards the sun
Gravity not taking it’s toll on this lone son
Green grass sinking in beneath the toes
Making the glow feel less awkward
Hiding the turmoil like a warm glove
Today will fill up the soul