New Arrivals - Poetry - Oddities(Earliest Poems)
it makes the heart
Thinking of you incessantly, wishing you to be
Always, in my life
Angel, I'm sick of feeling like this
Lingering smell of a candle
Of midsummer's night
Edifying of my reality
You know there's no way i'm sleeping
Ok, or even remotely fine
I'm tired of this sick feeling
I'm sick of feeling this tired
I hope you smile every day
Unhinged, I find myself achase...
20-somethings, drink, something real
The beauty of a decade is the simplicity
of it's reverberant psychopathy
Your shining moment
When you have the anti-midas touch
it's easy to be alone
Age is a number
Cats of soaked wreckaged revenge
amplify my sympathy
Ignorant of all the
Trends and Lost of the Yesterdays
Never again to be--Not alone
laughter, yelling, fights
gives me comfort
Drunken revelry and revolt
Do you remember when we used to smile?
the sordid dances that made us youth?
Entropy of the lost logic
things that stir
and go bump in the night
They were looking for the endless party
the way to the soul
a way to connect
Ghoulish tempers and fevered egos
enumerating a mass common sense
We've lost track of where to go
the formula for freedom
and true exodus
God and country have replaced
the original thought of community
May we forgive the young,
bright flames of which dreams are true
May we discover the old recipe
for the cakes that imbibe our souls
into a life of pure inebriation
towards real freedom
No diaries, nothing worth recalling
God had a plan and civil call,
a place for those wise enough to ignore
and those dumb enough to be deaf of
Where will you go when the party is over?
What will you have said of your life?
Will anyone think of you?
Did you die for anyone?
A tempest is on the horizon
and the right are hoarding the shotguns
so that they may be the first to put it in their mouths
I told you so, is only helpful if you can listen
History is only useful if you care to read
The only vision left is of grandfathers who
changed the world.
Shiny and inane
is the marble of the foundation
of my faults
Stark reservoirs leave an impression
on dry throats
Ingenious is an impeccable stress
of the grand golden ignorant
And below this scene of incredulous imperfection
stands out before me an array of
Perhaps I can find resolution
in the moon's miraged image,
hiding behind frost's clouds
Perhaps meaning can be attained
by the disdain of the lost hippies
in a generation of techno-babble
Perhaps the grand audience
for the evenings entertainment
Perhaps I can fly
if I leap from the ground
Men like ground meat
not discovering latent enemies
Armies like ants
wandering lost amidst battlefields
of deserted picnics
Cruelty is key
Dehydrated memories to plead
for the water
of happy recall
These thoughts leveling
At least at my ultimatum
and at least the bedlam
of it's flowers
There came the tremor.
There are no landlords
standing so queerly abhorred
of the world.
No man should ever withstand the posterity
that is the freedom license.
When the one love
becomes a succinct love.
When true freedom is a pacifier
and a real way out.
Stop the conscious that requires a night of
god like concentration.
I forgo the heart of man,
and deny its irrelevant thunderstorm.