Skip to main content

Greener Trees
















Greener Trees







Why can't this new level/
Let the truth settle/
Within me, instead it stews, festers/
And I eschew lessons/
Taught to me by the dues entered/
Into a blue treasure/
I lay nude, spreading/
The clues endless/
They're thin, obtuse, severed/
From reality/
Keep hounding me/
As I choose destined/
Battles/
That happen/
To grab me/
And gravi-/
Tate towards the tragic/
Disasters/
I've managed/
To answer/
To, I'm too tired to straddle/
Dying enraputred/
By the fighting and glamour/
This style has hampered/
Me for an eternity/
I feel unworthy, these/
Blessings falling and dirtying/
All of my undeservedly/
Hurting schemes/
And now I'm hurdling/
Perfectly/
Into the eye of an emergency/
Stop serving me/
These platitudes/
I scavenge through/
I have to do/
What you claim would be amounting to/
Turning the baddest move/
Into an avenue/
I'm going to gallop through/
And blast into/
A hellish mess/
A den of stress/
Unsettled less/
Than a coward's doom/
I'm standing proof/
That to penetrate/
A mental state/
Built on selfish hate/
That denegrates/
The subject daily/
Is remaining/
A bettor's game/
I'm set in ways/
From which I'll never wake/
Heaven's gates/
Are closed to me/
Woe to me/
I'm dead and saved/
Yet I can't let the pain/
Subside, whether change/
Comes through endless games/
Of poker or MMA/
In the corner/
A distant orphan/
From the life he led astray/
Deaf to pace/
I'm going until the bell is shaked/
I was bled and shaped/
By an ordeal/
That poured skills/
Like mourning fields/
Of coarse seals/
On the past and morbid meals/
Into a short reel/
That I watched, abort real/
Ideas and torch build-/
Ings filled with old feel-/
Ings and doors wheeled/
Shut by a soul chilled/
By forced shields/
And assorted killed/
Important drills/
They're dormant still/
But my core's steel/
And if you're seeing this/
Or reading in-/
Between the lines in a capricious twist/
I'm needling/
A deeper mix/
Of emotions, leading with/
My demons in/
A way I deemed egregious in/
The past, cleaner filth/
Dreams are in/
My mind even as I eagerly/
Pursue them, I need to be/
An easy beast/
Singling/
This trauma out, seeds are reaped/
Unfeasibly/
As the seasons bring/
The greener trees/

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

My Return To The Field

How often must I remain here? I must have died unexpectedly, and my wandering spirit, aura thick with malevolence and anguish, refuses to acknowledge my own death. Indeed, I have become a ghost, cursed to haunt diners, coffeeshops, bars and beaches, pen brandished and book unsheathed. I've grown so distant from others that Im more statue than Man, yet where this separation once stung painfully, it now soothes reassuringly. Lumped in with a generation of "men" with testosterone levels lower than a woman's would be 30 years ago, and forced to make due with "women" that proudly proclaim themselves sluts and will actually attempt to fistfight men if they are ignored and eschewed, as they should be, my sentiment is clear. I want no part of this generation. It's filthy and degraded.

You could say I'm living a daydream right now, a fantasy granted the breath of life by divine providence. How many shifts at work have I frittered away contemplating the perf…

Shameless IG Plug

https://www.instagram.com/p/BjCacWplX6FygVNS5qOdcWnQRGLOPC3DlvI18o0/

We exist in a world where it seems every skill, talent or gift, no matter how esoteric or seemingly inapplicable, can, through the bittersweet, pyrrhic blessing of social media, be monetized, commodified and capitalized upon. I harbor no unrealistic goals, because realism has become hyperreal. I live a simple life, one that appears to have placed me at odds with the world's status quo. Good, fuck them. Take happiness where you can grasp and steal it, whether it's by drinking overpowering, ironically cheap beer with great friends, screaming obscenities at the top of your lungs for the shock value, or doing feats of strength on public benches. In my case, everything is words and handstands. The rest is irrelevant. Forever flawed. Forever rebellious.

Beacon Of Light In The Darkness

Beacon Of Light In The Darkness




For too long I've harbored the one-sided shadows of former relationships. Torturous, rapid bombardments of perceived slights and ridiculous thought crimes. I've stifled my own opinions on everything from politics to religion, the two classic hot button issues, paragons of ostracization and dogmatic pollution.

The ghosts of the past are insidious and seductive, causing me to view them through rose-colored glasses for a formerly indeterminate amount of time. Yet now, in the absence of that old, familiar love, the grip of nostalgic fantasy has been loosened as my naivete is strangled by harsh reality.

Gasping for breath, it attacks me with a battalion of its best memories, a company of incomparable moments, countless divisions of dreams rendered dead by inaction and hatred. In the end, we all die alone. In those final, fleeting hours, we'll be surrounded by a devoted, compassionate family if were lucky, holding and pumping our aching, callouse…