inept, and upset, it’s like nothing is mentioned.lifes a run on sentence, interconnecting.eclectic, electric, im a plug in the wall.a bit so perplexive. spot the occult in the psalms.the rejection. a song in the hall of this crazy asylumstraitjacket is off, but I still feel like i’mbindedabstaining. no hiding. not restrained or assigningwhat’s a goonContinue reading “Strawberry Stains and Devil Horns: A Poem of Paradoxical Love”
Tag Archives: wnqwriter
Again, and Again: A Poem of Repetition and Resignation
Again I hear footsteps awaken the creaks in the floor Again. Who the fuck’s at the door? Nightstand machete laid neatly in drawer. Revolver ‘neath queen mattress, in case of a quarrel- But- There’s nothing. Just repentance, contempt, intentions dissolved. Gunpowder, protein drinks, and penniless thoughts. Could’ve sworn there was something. Apparently not. Hear aContinue reading “Again, and Again: A Poem of Repetition and Resignation”
I Know What I Need: The Quest for Fulfillment Amidst the Turbulent Rapids of Existence, Where Inner Desires Clash with External Realities
I don’t know what I want, Whether it’s surface dwelling alone at the swamp Or an oak in a marsh, soul-searching proverbial want. We’re more or less spawns of monsters nobody needs, You were my star-spangled banner, and I was taking a knee. Subterranean breeze, vitamin pond, still smell your perfume, Every once in aContinue reading “I Know What I Need: The Quest for Fulfillment Amidst the Turbulent Rapids of Existence, Where Inner Desires Clash with External Realities”
Fötter Day Reverie: Suburban Breeze and Whispered Dreams
You can hear the suburban chime, zirconia vertebrae, pearly white spine. Glass thrown in stone houses, a regular suburban night, whirring, rewinding. Chronicled childhood in olive drab paint, monocle glass. Wormwood and bottles of Shawshank dissolute solitude. A wanderer who wallows in the maze en route, delaying for tomorrow, never promised today. A virgin diary,Continue reading “Fötter Day Reverie: Suburban Breeze and Whispered Dreams”
Skylit Lighthouse: Watching Our Eyes Meet Our Lips
We spent an hour alone, watching our eyes meet our lips. My revolver’s extinct, extinguishing meandering thoughts, Cradled across indifference, right into addiction, Deference to malice, rosebud digitalis reborn, a grin. While I think about things I haven’t before, Soaked in grimace and gin while I’m singing along, Philosophers’ physics, you had me at ‘gone,’Continue reading “Skylit Lighthouse: Watching Our Eyes Meet Our Lips”