Humble Mumblings

And if even “The Greats” were just mere regular,

idiosyncratic – day to day observers of society;

Loud muses that mused nonsense – out of boredom,

stress relief, simple idiotic entertainment –

What of me then? My so called art – ponderings

of a directionless point becoming less with each …

*Sigh* … It’s insane enough I talk out loud to myself,

God help me when I actually take time to write down

the humble mumblings of my inner muse.

I’m easily amused, taking advantage of space and time,

making rhymes – poetry is as poetry does, line for line.

Poetry is like life – random and chaotic,

occasionally coming together beautifully in wondrous ways.

Poetry is life.

The best lines obtained through years of disillusionment and pain.

The never ending struggle to fight; Finnish the race!

The journey, discovery and utilization of what it  means to not just live – but to actually feel connected to your being;

That is living.

… That is poetry…

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Xiphos

I will hold a hand up, to den -y the apple of my eye.

Pins and needles, in my heart and arms,

trying to impress the lifeless & loveless, only she can disarm,

these bomb exploding in my brain,

drain the poison from my veins.

Give me mouth to mouth, taste my purity.

I can’t save you, but you could save me.

Just keep clutching my sides, exceedingly,

arms wrapped tightly – and tightening,

as our tongues do the talking –

I hear the world burning – and couldn’t care,

caress your face and hair,

Past the layers – lips moist, quivering and bare,

dripping the cure over curled fingers…

An Angels whispered voice lingers…

Suck my neck, my minute to minute, midnight lover,

Eye, Dan -i, eye, … bye bye.

 

 

Dead to Me

Empty waiting.

Pointless hunger.

Lost words.

Cursed existence.

Bored,

out of what little mind I have left.

Bored,

with what little time I have left.

 

This is no life;

This existing,

one day to the next.

I wan to live.

I want to feel;

feel something real.

No more people placebos,

No more of everyone I know.

 

I’m tired of assumptions,

tired of the masses making asses of themselves.

Too tired to listen to anyone

Who doesn’t already see me for who I am.

I couldn’t care less.

I really don’t give a damn.

So go ahead and curse me!

Go ahead and finally be dead… to me.

The View from Space

Winter is at last coming to an end.

The snow recedes,

revealing the stench of piss and shit,

that layers a cold – dead – earth.

 

For a time the world will seem unsightly.

Until the day the insects wake,

and pollinate the flowers;

the paths we walk will be muddy and bare.

 

The ruts we’ve strutted in,

more than obvious;

begging spring to bring its rains and wash,

the world a – new.

 

May the rose buds bloom,

the green grass grow tall, to leave no trace,

of piss & shit & death – upon the earths face.

Such a beautiful transformation;

only to be witnessed by the moon and void of space.

Dinner and a Show

Rambling gibberish to humming wishes,
A symphony of frogs prepare a vile dish.

Hell paints it’s self-pink with girlie glitter,
To torture a quitter who believed he was fitter.

Fairy tales are pure evil and breed badness.
For evil is innocence and ignorance, making madness.

Slow cooked, honey-ginger ribs make a lovely meal.
Since when does smacking on bone and flesh not appeal?

Humming wishes to rambling gibberish,
A vile dish presents a symphony of frogs

The Shadow

You hardly survived as you

slipped through the black hole,

and made it to the other side,

but it wasn’t what you thought it was going to be.

 

No escape – just more empty black space,

further fragmenting your mentality –

You’re splitting in half again,

while everything around you merges together

and draws in close – then closer.

 

It’s getting harder to think straight,

I’ve not been sleeping well.

It’s getting harder to tell the difference

between what is in my head – and what’s actually happening;

What’s real and what I’m just imagining.

 

The shadows are moving and I’m not dreaming,

I think I’ve broken my mind and hallucinating;

The voices converse about the things

I’ve been avoiding – every thing is crashing in

and I feel like the whole universe is watching….