Friday, June 21, 2024

When God Cries Tears of Grass

For all the questions I can’t ask God cuts me with a blade of grass I imitate turmoil God imitates interest But there are no dollar signs in my doorway Believe me, I have looked And God checks behind me Then God tells me, “It seems like there is nothing there” I have imitated all […]

Beacons of Oppression

No more past and frozen Broken dollars on the costume’s edge No riddle to be stolen Or hid between her parked legs There are ships on the balcony Solid in perpetuated demise Sold for grass curtains and parted Along the stringed astray reprise Formed almost like a whisper Grey and atoned for In the night […]

Disafforested Bounty

Disafforested convenience in the Land of neighboring plentiful streets Of broadcast entries and solemn In the reins of remarkable beauty, Where pigeons grow And count the blessings of rush hour, So soft against the lean violin Where magistrates continue a Disembarked entry into the doorway Of magnified centuries Solid dust in our persuasions Soiled curtains […]

If History Itself is God

I wonder if history is God, or, That people too often mistake History for God. I’ve managed To confine myself in an ontological Pseudo-inspiration for both Logical trespass and pacification If history is God, then I am a Dormouse in the hallways of Concession, fabricating my allegories With a dorsal fin chime. Stolen words Lost […]

Never a Poem

I am not a poet I like to thread words together And frame meaning Like something that bumps against consciousness But I am not a poet, besides, Who understands these fragile blocks of text? Not me. Not you. No one in particular. Or should I not say that about those that find it? These are […]

Adept to Frozen Language

From the mark of scolding winter To the prison of language’s limited ashtray There are those who stare from the balcony of defeated highways, And resume old tattering scales among rust and rattled emotions. They are in our wake, dissolved within our immanent stall-way, Presumed marked for sailors’s helmets and toddler claws, Like a short-ended […]

Riddles in the Rain

Loneliness escapes through the Wells of disappointment, demarcated As stolen words on lost texts Where radio sirens play holo-bells And remarks, on stage. Like Saturday calls and greets Its final guest, so too do I Leave you with this last toast To yesterday, and fallen Ashes, like riddles in the rain.

In Favor of Music

Sometimes perspective escapes us. Not out of lack of desire for Clear sight, but instead out of A deep regret for the living Experience of sadness and disrepair. Loneliness is a fragment of those Who have trespassed life’s Contempt for peace and Stability in favor of music And the sounds of beauty.