Folding in glorious trumpet strains Grass grows unconcerned Neon lights glow, illuminating police brutality – Our loyalty is demanded The cacti are worried about drowning Harmonies play to empty opera houses A viking helmet wonders why it’s doing in this century – Evaporation continues, screaming fuck you to condensation A reactor comes online and pulses …
The beat drops And uncertainty looms Futures predicted Ridiculous in their polyester getups – Sleuths will pursue the annals of this time Lost for meaning and reason A species wandering aimless With nuclear weapons and edible panties – The bass resonates And we still fuck up We’ve perfected napalm Rocket launched and on sale! – …
Upon the slipping shores of my dreams You float in whips of technicolor fabric Ensconced in patterns of paisley and hieroglif Smoke wafts in your wake – An incense burner sits lonely Under a mandala of unestimitable color The fabric flows you forward Suspended in a harmony of chants – I follow, reaching forward You …
Nostalgia is a strong drug. I sat with my feet up on the balcony railing, thoroughly reclined in my chair. The city below sat quiet and empty on the damp night. Maybe it was something about the weather or the clothing combination, hoodie and shorts, that took me back. As the cool of this evening …
The wave broken, Over the copper bow of lunar light The sweet, warm waters gathering me In its saccharine bosom Floating me down the gentle crest Of retreating thought – The stars, hidden by flashes of lightning Call to me in soaring melodies Harmonized with the beat of my heart Blasted through amplifiers Glorious strains …
A fragment of a thought A memory A glimpse Floats on the flotsam of my mind – Blurry around the edges amorphous in shape Obnoxiously undefined Tickling the ‘What am I missing’ hairs – The daily, mild torment Soothed by the forgetfulness of time
It was the kind of evening that catches up with you all the sudden. The day had passed slowly, lazy puffs of clouds floating over the city like white castles in the sky. I turned pages in the used book and sipped on coffee and all the sudden the sun dipped behind the buildings in …
Streets roll into puffy clouds Glowing in the sunlight beers, cold in the hand Fresh air, filtered through masks – The feeling of shoes on feet And soles on pavement Free from the four walls So monochromatic and restricting – The heart sings In glorious hair metal wails The pulse, a swelling guitar From a …
I guess this is never where I’d imagine I’d spend a Thanksgiving, though I’m sure I could do worse. How, I’m not sure, but shit can always get worse. Scoring in such a shit hole of a house is depressing enough on the best of occasions, but with their faux, half assed Thanksgiving meal- as …
Memories rest In the sweet peach garden of the soul Unmolested nor ravaged By the currents of life – Flowing in turbid eddies The fortunes of selves Oaths taken and forgotten Leaves crushed beneath feet – The sweet boughs of towering pine Tender at spring’s dawn Refresh eager senses Lost in life’s unrequited desires