Skip to main content

Imagine









Imagine


Let that flower blossom/
In the midst of dour problems/
Down to call them/
What they are, sour rotten/
Banners calling/
For the standard falling/
Sky, shouting all the/
Ears off the world, surrounding bossy/
Hounding thoughts we/
Cower softly/
From, take a commanding posture/
And wave past the drama/
Of collapsing dollars/
And static parlor/
Tricks/
Too thick/
To stand at all when/
Passion's strong winds/
Make them collapse and topple/
Fashion, Prada/
Contrast with modern/
Financial/
Shackles on a/
Combatted fauna/
Of others like food stamps and condoms/
Imagine all the/
People holding ransoms on the/
Random costs of/
Intellect/
And disconnect/
From this blasted construct/
We sacrifice to/
As ashes blind truth/
Dash behind youth/
To buy your master's nine new/
Matching fine suits/
Getting plastered like glue/
On the weekends/
To release spent/
Energy and free them/
If only for another unanswered night to/
Be a disaster flying/
Under the radar of your tragic bindings/
To have reminders/
Of the saddest life you/
Have resigned to/
Plans entice you/
The chapters write proof/
That you're not the one who captured timeless/
Moments in a vacuum, live loops/
On replay/
Cause these days/
Your restraints/
Have no password sliced through/
In brooding scarlet/
From a moody harlot/
Do these bargains/
On my rueful promise/
To not intrude on God's wish/
Mean that I can soothe these scarred wrists/
With truths and honest/
Blooming callings/
Or am I doomed to always/
Zoom through hallways/
Paid my dues on dark days/
With clueless parlays/
With prudes that partake/
In choosing car lanes/
With which to zoom through harms way/
Through with nonsense/
And consumed with phonics/
Dunes of ominous/
Sand threaten to consume my partners/
Booze and polished/
Words that confuse the solid/
And spook the honor/
Bound among us to peruse my blog with/
Stupid harbored/
Feelings/
Revealing/
Their true departure/
To the tomb forgotten/
Lewd and harsh words/
Are food for starters/
If my soot and fauna/
Coated hands are Cupid's harmon-/
Ious indicators to boost my followers/
Then prove me and wrong and/
Lampoon my solemn/
Refusal/
To piece newer/
Schemes brewing/
In my head into a complete noose that/
I'm seeing through all/
Ready/
Come bet me/
That I'll need you or/
Any of them to be useful/
Bleed through the/
Pain and clean wounds up/
To sleep through the/
Weak drooping/
Eyelids/
I'm finding/
When the light dims/
And the beast chooses/
To come alive/
I run to fight/
And seek truth cause/
My cheeks' hues burn/
As I defeat hubris/
And cease choosing/
To increase bruising/
Because this belief's putrid/
And Ill no longer cling to it/

Popular posts from this blog

Countertop

Haunting this countertop/ Wondering how could all/ This go bad and walk/ Away from us, the patterns caught/ On repetition in my life, absent thought/ A coward's plot/ To brandish false/ Hope and manage slots/ Left over from the branch that rots/ Away, the old adage copped/ As an excuse, wrath of God/ Plant your balk-/ -ing seeds and stand and walk/ Because you are my spectre/ And I'm stressing/ Out over the time left in/ Our dying ending/ The price mentioned/ Was too much, so I write, wept in/ Quiet, bet this/ Life's questions/ Won't answer why settling/ Down defied convention/ My best friend/ You'll soon fly, stretching/ Our hearts like vested/ Lives destined/ To find remnants/ Of each other in every girl or guy messed with/ And getting over you/ Is akin to choking booze/ Down and moping through/ My days, hopeless, nude/ Vulnerable, emotions bruised/ Soaked in blue/ Feelings, morose and gloom/ My heart poured into/ Every poem proof-/   -read at a bar, alone, enthus

A Drunkard's Lament

              Alcohol/ Is a battle fought/ With madness wrought/ From the sadness caught/ Between a man that calms/ His hands and thoughts/ With poison that wraps its claws/ Around his watch/ Makes time pass and stop/ Whenever he slams a shot/ I have forgot-/ -ten the chasms walked/ Barefoot and half distraught/ When I've drowned in bot-/ -tles of the brownest rot-/ -gut liquor, that the damned can flaunt/ Prancing, dropped/ By the rancid vom-/ -it that crams and falls/ From the mouth of all/ The manic lost/ Ones that choose to pad their traum-/ -as with Jack and vod-/ -ka, Schnapps and all-/ -the traps of karma/ Let's get plastered, crawl the/ Line, disasters wobbling/ Pants are starting/ To tear, we're panting, heart is/ Racing, death a tragic pardon/ From the crimes of a master wrong one/ The fortune amassed is startling/ Fan your pockets/ For the change that's always last for varmints/ Alas, unvarnished/ Regrets are magic, popping/ Up wherever you're lashed and

4 Reasons Why I'll Be A Vagabond In 2 Years

4 Reasons Why I'll Be A Vagabond In 2 Years As my parole date looms and I prepare to muster out of the service that's cradled me the entirety of my adult life, I face the future with an uneasy trepidation coupled with my characteristic combative nature. I've heard every excuse, tempting me with bonuses and transparent promises regarding where I could live next, to tales of woe and agonizing regret, detailing the life of a miscreant that fleed from the Navy, expecting to flourish in the free world, no longer bound by the constraints of military life. Eager and cherry, they're invariably met with a crippling reality, sprinting head first into a shallow pool of filthy water barely concealing jagged, dangerous rocks and craters. I'll take my chances as I retake the reins of my life, though, even this far out, I know that my path will hardly be traditional, and will probably offend some traditionally and civically min