The Social Scene

Fascinated
By the masks I painted
One for the crowd
Two for the street performers whose roars grow so loud
But I’m weary tonight
I can’t see crisply
Clearly tonight

Within the castle she fainted
By the slashes I painted
One for the clouds
Two for sweet conformers of whom no one is proud
But hear and see that broken sight
I can’t see with the
Fearful insight

Comparable or Not?

Goddamnit child
I’ve slammed the wild premonitions
Within a war that you wish wasn’t being wondered over
Erratic bile
Is crammed within the defiled paper prisons

The bandit dialed
with demands and a masochistic mission
Within a wisp wavering inside the wishes under covers
Bombastic piles….
of a past thought paraphrased to the point of a distant contusion

Help

Word has it your empty
Word has it you simply
want someone to care
want someone to share
a life and end that dispare

Word has it your alone
Word has it you wish
Someone’s voice would hold a kind tone
and let you know things will be fine
and let you know there is a divine

intervention
The greatest natural invention
And it will always be declared
Whether you
choose to accept happiness
Is the hardest disposition
To develop
Or so I’ve found

That tranquil peace, encouragement is the greatest sound

Pages

Bookmark
your bruises
Look smart
with your fuses
You better know
The debtor slows
an acknowledges a shred of appreciation
Before dramatically draining the empathetic emaciation
Life isn't confusing
You are the source
Of your pleasant ice-cold ports
Of remorse

God is Your Gun

Jesus Christ
will please the might
of a multiplicative warmonger
of a duplicit mass-murderer
of a new limit
dictated by the
Disheveled sheep herder
Naiveté’s a whore and by
the time you spot her
Your in line with a cry
Next for the slaughter

What's In Plain Sight Can't Be Accepted

Security in the airport at a maximum
Lax
But peace of mind is precious so please just relax

Purity of intentions in America at an appalling
Low
Declare
Esoteric as the
Never-ending truth

Ignorant finality and failure are synonymous now

Postivity

Things are looking up
and ignoring the beauty of life laces everything with failure
So I will not allow such qualms to quiver within my mind
Existentialism
For everything
Is the right outlook

Embrace

Embrace the pungent
Redundant
Taste of
of a faltering
Sweltering
Yet sheltering fate
But how could
we
Embrace what redefines your face

Scapegoat

I blame the shame
But what would I know
I composed the rain
But that’s nothing I would claim

I brought the shot
But what would I sew
I exposed the stains
But that’s nothing next to fame

Back Off

Save all
the sorrow
behave while
I borrow
a little bit of the past
Although the lows
that we hold with white knuckles
muscles fold and are taut as my
belt buckle
We know they wont last
But we’d love to grasp

There is Nothing

Nothing:

There is nothing but a theater full of bleeders
There is nothing but a casket full of gaskets
There is nothing but a life impaled on a knife
There is nothing but a beach out of reach
There is nothing but fingers that barely, rarely linger
There is nothing but a sun wrapped in glum
There is nothing but a president represented as something reticent
There is nothing but Nigerian’s wondering why people are fearing them
There is NOTHING
B-bbbut a void that annoys that everyone treats as a toy
B-bbbut a side of a divide that everyone has spied
B-bbbut an anarchy of malarkey that we call a life
Did I mention- there aint anything?!
Did I mention – Bare minimums are everything?!
There is nothing but a lull punctuated by skulls
There is nothing but vanity-driven insanity
There is nothing but a twisted enlisted empathy
There is nothing but narcissism that parts within them
There is nothing but false intentions that we failed to mention
There is nothing but a delivery of misery and bigotry
There is nothing but a bayonet in the trays we set
There is nothing but a didactic disaster of a bastard
Let’s lock up the laughter
Let’s shock out the most recent chapter
so we can realize that…..
There is NOTHING
B-bbbut a void that annoys that everyone treats as a toy
B-bbbut a side of a divide that everyone has spied
B-bbbut an anarchy of malarkey that we call a life
Did I mention- there aint anything?!
Did I mention – Bare minimums are everything?!

Discernment

I have a confession to make
I lost myself
I couldn’t stop
What
I didn’t know I felt
And that’s all there is
To say of the matter
My depression came from adding aspects of fake
Let me be
I’d prefer
Authenticity
To a social cure
she is all I need
Accept it
or criticize
I find all truth
Just by looking in her eyes

It Really Is All In Your Head

Mourning things that could have been, will bring you more pain then actually missing the opportunity.

Happiness is the ability to allow yourself to simply savor perception

Just a couple sentiments

Be excited for the sake of enjoying every moment of life.
Be passionate for the sake of creativity

What Would you Expect

Tired and hungry
My heart, my body is mumbling
Muttering incoherently
For her
For rest
My mind’s like a news ticker
Rarely slowing
But certainly
Repetitive
Everything cannot be relative
Because if that were the case what would death be?

Thrown passes, bruised bodies, screaming coaches, torn turf
blown through a draft of enthused roaches and shorn hurt

The Anxious Revolutionary

Hands clasped together in anticipation
Towards an end that no one wants to admit an inclination towards
Though it may seem like the solution of the present day
His future problems will obviously never be refuted by the
Thoughtful rationalizations that he claims as truth
Tanks of the nation outside have come to claim his youth
How could harm become the new proof for negativity
Then realizing death will make his points turn and all but moot

Life and People's Treatment of It

So many questions
So little time
So many
blessed trims
of hyperboles
rewritten to be
the gospel of
the
21st century
amoral
apathetic
A litany
that rips
through the
gospel
of malevolence
and sadism
that fade
the passion within

Realization

Pain is loss, so you cannot always be in pain because then you would never have anything….This refutes the ‘life is pain’ argument

The speakers leak
Her organs
Ride along a bored wind
I’ll never budge
Develop a grudge
Towards the stereo
Blaring low
In the background
Glaring betrothed
To intimacy
With boredom
Show me the
bodies,
Where have you stored
them?


4 walls
4 mace balls
Bouncing
Renouncing loyalty
To the boy I see
Huddled in snow-sprinkled seas
My eyes show wrinkles
Giving way to
Pockets of relief
4 halls
inside 4 different
malls
The décor
the floor
resembled a morgue

Contadictory Observation

Eternity
is burning
and
I’m a little cinder
Heaven
is frozen stiff
and
I’m a deformed icicle
clinging to
their
necks
Everything tells of
Hell so
what do
you
expect


I don’t actually feel this way..but I feel the poem’s interesting. Though I feel expressing myself is important, I feel that doing it an intriguing way is of even greater value.

Spontaneity

I’m a whirling
Windmill
Full of
Cinnamon and knives
I’m a
Absentminded
Hurricane
Full of
Dividends of lives
Riding by
the
Kangaroo
Station
and smoldering hotels
Inciting eyes
that
Travel sideways
over
Blurring roads
Light leaks from cylindrical
Containers
Reminiscent of
iron eyelids

The Situation

bringing the world
To me, and my views
Pay dues
Declared me misused
By certain little
Machines
That claim they
Have hearts
I’ll believe you all
When I see
Them beat
When your feet move to
Delete what you’ve
Damaged
To repeat the hacking
Over what’s
Been
Recently bandaged
so
Delicately
My mind is free
and yours is
Thinking
Celibately

Cripple

frail little cripple

why won't they wait

stale and so brittle

It must just be fate

hail of knives that stipple

and puncture

a perfect pure sky

of the most inhibited purple

Angry Poem

I planned for
the screws to pop out
So
why’d they fall back in?

I planned for
you to develop clout
So
How’d you call back sin?

I planned for
you to shut your mouth
So
Simplify
or
Sanctify
You
Surreptitious
Little snake
the vicious
the delicious
Watch it all dissipate

hmmmm

broken and battered
how are you sir, how are you?
Misspoken and tattered
How far are you sir, how far are you?
A token of the
shattered
Have the scars penetrated
through
Let me impart
the degenerated few

Mr. President

An
awkward aquacade
with
the appearance
of
prison of
flesh

A stalward stigma
that caused
the corpses
to fade
The debt is
paid in a
cavern
of dust

Handicapped
by your
own financial
lust
The money's
a must....

War poem

Flaring
nostrils
Drawn
swords
Hair twined
in blood
Bodies
sewn to
mud
Arched
eyebrows
Screaming
mouths
Dry falling
skin
Spinal
columns
rearranged
Stomachs
blown
through
backs
Open your
melting eyes
It’s raining
down
bullets and ash.

This is what being sick does to my thought process

My mind aches
as if my head itself will soon just break
And this present pain
aggravates
But I try not to
to let it
make more irrate
Is it
fate
for me to be crippled by a dyslexic pain
……….
For me to hurt
For me to have
healing
Torn my hands
..But not
my mind

Concrete
Defeat
.. what a
design

I deliberately make myself
blind
to the
barrage of whirs and clicks
Indicating
the

Passage
of time

An existentialist
With
A
Mix of mental rifts

A monumental
Shift
Showing you dipped
in
darkness

And found
a
satisfying
sarcastic
emboldening force

Now all you are
is
bombastic
With

A furious chokehold
on remorse

Just thinking

Unveil the queer
Painting
Leave
Audience members
Fainting
See a
Hapless haughty sense
Rendered
By
The
Vicarious surrender
That is
Ever evident
In embers
Set
To your limbs
Sprouting
Jaggedly through
Your chin
Nightmare
To a
Rhythm
Is that
Such a sin?

Even more

Through shivering shadows
and desanctified sadness
Through
beautifully helpless happiness
and damaged gladness
Through nonexistent comfort
and dissipated faith

blank thoughts
Characterized by even more empty stares

Through slivers of light
and delicate madness
Through
Hideously low trapped in this
and crumbling peace
Through common wisdom hidden
and abating fate

Rank rot
Americanized by even more empty glares



Clad in all black
Jesus is back
with bruised arms
a mask of contusions layering his face
See how the past conclusions fair in this place
Gravitating towards
Golgotha
It’s time that he
fought the
demons that we refuse to release

Destroy
the love on lease
that cruelty
wishes to
Increase

And he plods slowly
on the sidewalk
below the frigid cityscape
To the left of the prisons
To the right of corruption
Below a
Heaven that no one will hold



You’re a clone
a copy consumed by a lack of self-clarification
and a lack of confidence
actions cry for attention
and your posture cries for assistance
And…yes I’ve been cruel
And…yes I’ve spoken and joked with you
And….then talked behind your back
Selective kindness
is a contradiction
I’ll
try
to redirect this mindless
lack of conviction
I just hope you
can find yourself
amongst all
this superficial
sadistic social sacrifice
Would there be conflict
If everyone was secure with themselves…


Out of my life
Out of my mind
Out of my images
Out of my influence
You were a mistake
And it was fate for
Us to be such a
Magnificent
Failure
You’re the vapor of a wind I no longer breathe



Arrogance
I declare with a glint
And every step I take
Cleverness left you
Looking for a namesake
as I swagger
through the cemetery
Dancing through
the tombstones
Fancy a glaze of glue
For the lips that still groan?
My mouth full of rabies
and some gray foam
I’m just a well-dressed
animal
Welcome back to your
permanent home



Disheveled hair
and the warped metal
Declares
Remastered disaster
Coming upon
Frantic and
Faster
as she wrapped
her arms ritualistically
Around
That superfluous
Relaxation
That gun fight
Numbs the lights
in your irises
Pours through
Your listlessness


Immediately
Working deviously
Scheming
Dreaming
Leaning heavily
on what is wanted
on what is wished for
on what is missed
But may yet be in store
If I can muster patience
If I can keep myself in check
If I can ignore the luster of a great pinch
of
Ignorance
And weep within a war
That I cannot
Ignore
This mind that rarely slows down
That fares better
When it’s not imbedded
In the ground

No police
No regulation
No standards to meet
No inhibitions
No false freedom
No souls for purchase
No mass-murder
No suicidal military commitments
No praise for lust as a replacement for love
No praise for the corrupt as long as you’re in their favor
No sadism
No apathy

..................

Tethered to leather
Measuring endeavors
Fragmented feathers
Treasuring nevers
Nostalgically
Analyzing
Problematically
Paralyzing

................

I harbor, animosity
Pry farther damned to monotony
Sky darker
Then
The cups of washed out gray

Eyes scarred, drop the sea
Sigh harder, Land just copies me
Lies part her
Further than
The cups of washed out days
--------------------------------

Generic declare it
The new
Originality

Watch the gray clay blaze
The crude concrete
Take a seat
The subway exudes

Watch the soil boil from toil
The blue old feet
Mechanics bleat
As the wrong way
Becomes true

Six dark-red stockings
A car crash took away the seventh
Six pairs of tattered shoes
After that they didn’t need the seventh
Six became the new emptiness
Six became synonymous with loss
Six became a bruised black and blue