AstrologicalI have lost myself toVenus & Mars,tangled in their mismatched limbs.Just dream dust & shattered prayersbegging for a new set of skin(she can't remember where she orbits).Pluck these fractured wings;the Sun & Moon no longer acheto see me fly in their luster.
XXXXXEven now,part of me(my hands)want to pull outthat glassshe lodgedin her neck.Pull it outand drop itinto pieces,or keep itin the back seatof my car.Where it canlay a whileand stare at me.Part of me(my chest)is not afraidof demons.It is far lessdangerousthan girls withhaphazard knivesand othermonsters.
Death of the PoetDear poetry,This is your challenge,my eternal chore,to restate the truthlike never before-but I’m imperfectat my very coreand hypocrisyis what I abhorso you may expectmy work to be poorenough for me tobe crushed into gorewith failed attemptsto take wing and soarwhen all I wantedwas something much morethan emptiness andinherited warand pointless detailsof imagined lorewhich most of us tendto simply ignoreat the piercing soundof a lion’s roaror the convenienceof a nearby store…what am I trulywriting these words for? Let’s merely pretendthat this isn’t mebut the voice of Godor L. Ron Hubbardor whoever youwish for it to besince facts remain factsno matter the source,no matter the cause,since the trustworthyare also humansprone to failure;so prone to a faultthat we hold dearly-the sum of our faithmeasured in dollars-rewarded by creditand paper money…for some odd reasonI find this funny!So I conclude
False EternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days, I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were livingconvinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thoughtignorant that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for the moonthen sought the horizon, again and again warned my father that doomwould befall him if he didn't seek a better way to live and be I wasn't willing to follow the dark and deadly rules,trying to bring some light into the lives of these fools.Guilds of anti-gods were formed, wars rose higher, nothing to atone!They all represen
Chasing ButterfliesI believe in starry nights writing timeless songsof all the yesterdays and tomorrows yet to come.I believe in hearing the voice of love in rhyme;I heard it as a child in my mother's lullabies.Let's go down to the river nowand chase the butterflies.I believe in playing, absorbing life's full sun,dancing through the day until the night is done.I believe in wishing wells never running dry, granting us the time for a tender, slow goodbye.Let's go down to the river nowand chase the butterflies.Should I cross to the other side,don't you worry; don't you cry.There you'll see where tomorrow I'll be,forever chasing butterflies...
The Pen, The SwordJust lovelyI was happy to fall asleepin the welcoming arms of your words andyou were unaware that you held meso close, and so carefullyfrom the moment I didn't hear you speakto the taste of every sentence you spokeI knew you were the very truth that I'dbeen seeking all alongJust barelyI was loathe to fall so deepin the sharpened edges of your words andyou were too aware that you had meso close, and so carelesslyfrom the second I heard you breakto the taste of every sentence you brokeI knew you were the very truth that I'dbeen avoiding all along
False ProphetsPoems and love songs breed dead dreams, strangled by weeds, face down in the ground with no roses to mourn them.Singers are poets that croon (if you happen to lose your little heart to their tune)and poets are false prophets - true love will last forever if they care to write it, but not if you swallow the lines...yet, they always do.We all have a place set for us in the shadein our own private garden of weeds.
ArrheniusThe birds arekeeping to themselvesthis eveningas the earth shiftsslightly-ever so calmly(for when you arethis powerfulyou only haveto move).Here and there, Iwitness thesebeautiful strangerswith perfect bodiesand long hairwalking down the roadin tightly knitted packs.They are animalslike we are animals-like we areanimals withoutclaws and fur,with scratches on ourskin that yields tofragile andfamiliar hands.The winds respondas quiet birds rushfrom telephone wiresin panic andin beauty; shetries to brush the hairdancing circles in her eyes(for when you arethis powerfulyou only have to move).
Evolution of lifechild, we dreamteenager, we have ideasadult, we have a bar code encrusted in the napewe evolve to finish in the matrix
False eternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days, I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were livingconvinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thoughtignorant of the fact that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for
VoicesDo you hear the moan of morning rhymesBy the people in their endless timeAs the morning dew breaks the dayBack to where the city-lights once laidThe lamp-posts are filled with black starlightAs the children run in their flight With cries of sorrow, cries of painThe old houses creaking with disdainAcidic puddles of blood-wet tearsRemain on the street through all these yearsAs the cracks have hid the crumbled dustWithin these roads of bone and rustThe melody of the birds is lost To the screeches and screaming lossThere are people cowering in the darkMurmuring, whispering their tortured remarksFlames ignite the world in fire
On The Collapse Of Modern Society"I've never seen so many folksputting their hopes in packaged air,as far as I'm concerned,and from what I've observedmisplacing material worth while rushing back and forthto get nowhere."my Grandma said, shaking her head.
Within A BoxIt's a prison for the minds of haunted soulsan odd prison, not large enough to contain its prisonersand yet it encompasses every fiber of their being in silent, silent spaces.Haunted souls are searching for the keythere is no key, but they don't know any betterand what harm could it do? Hope is better than nothinghere's an unlocked open door for you.Little trinkets haunt souls with their questionsand we want answers, but they won't giveanything away. Very smart,you know the world is ending soon.(The best of which are onlycrude descriptions of the magicthey are looking for.)
HumanDear Hypocrite, What do you do? Throwing insults when you're insulted.Dear Coward, Where went you?To your "peaceful" sanctuary you have bolted.Dear Liar, What say you?Your poison corrupts innocent ears.Dear Human, What are you?A sinner trapped in endless tears.
Lovers and assassinsNightwalk
River of FlowersDo you wonder?How does heaven lookTo those who have not yet died.Does it glowLike a forgotten smile?Can you feel it? So close to you today.Like a final wordOn your lips. Drifting up Into midnight's silver air.But I will not let you see.I am hereTo keep you breathing.To chainYou to this living earth.Against your willI hold you here!The bloodPouring from your broken heart.A wound that will never heal.I am responsible forYour pain.A river of flowersFlowing from the vein which has opened.That is allThat your precious heaven holds.There's nothing for you.No release from all this pain.I am the
Blind EyesI, open my blind eyes and look at you.Seeing only whatI long to see, in you.Beauty likeI know that I have never seen.That I will never seeCaught here in your tiny cage.Stars, they shine above.Just out of my reach.I long to feel them!Reaching through the bars,Screaming your name,You laugh and turn from me,Leave me in my ties.Sweet little bluebird why do you sing?You too are trapped hereAnd you don't know it.Fly, fly free as I never can.See the stars for me.Bring them back here, to this cage.Ah, your sweet song,It fades away into the night.You will not return!You are free now.And I am breaking.I
Wings of the RavenLike the wings of the ravenYou brush my heart.You call out and shiver within me,And I die inside.As one we are joinedAnd can not be undone.Not ever!With you I can not be brought down.I will not be stopped.I will not let youDie again.They will not keep me fromYour cold heart!Protect me!I wish only to love you.Your raven wings that burn.I can taste your fearOf the death that draws near.Like the bird's wing you quiver,And I can tell that you're frightened.Just let me come down to you.I can help you now, again.You will not let me touch you,Though I can see you clearly, drowning.I wish only to love y
Friend in the FutureI haven't met you.Maybe I never will. I just want you to know,When you scream,When you cry, When you laugh, I will know.