Tag Archives: shitty poetry

Nothing for you to skim, scoff, talk at but pale fliers on the board, abandoned by the door long alphabet lines, stacked into tiles high above my head, my mind, my reach; but I am the measure, the file, tile, line that makes every mark appear darker,  more there than I who is translucent, paleContinue reading “translucent”

The trail is long From where your ancestor stepped before mine, And meters marked on the stone-cliffed walls Shores broken and scattered locked hearts, Hearts to never be unlocked in piss-filled corpses; Mother’s tears caught in the wind storm Like the clouds that whisper sweet London fog and colony muddied and deep In the carnageContinue reading “Wind in the sea instead of the sky”

What are you? I mean The slurred stars gathered at the horizon Or the papers shuttered closed,  Between window seal and gray doors Hidden waterfalls, a delicate surprise Balanced on top of memory; Words and thoughts,  Being and unbeing Split here and there, With nowhere to go; Am I the words you hear, The sightsContinue reading “Spaces, places, and unspoken definitions”

Stars rest on the tight lid of paradise Rising and sinking with eons of light; Drinking the soothing words of love Tasting of blooming roses and hues of blue; To shine through the invisible layer of heavens Stacked high past the cumulus clouds Settling viridian and clementine where the sky meets; Feeling for a momentContinue reading “Paradise Falls”

All greatness lies And lay next to enemies Of minds too stubborn to see Where the short end Is the short self; They think they have discovered  Everything to be, that is, could and would But it’s labels plastered On the minds of peerless insight That are to slip to the prestige; And fall toContinue reading “Greatness”

When the world ends And the sun sets low and full,  Too heavy to carry fire Asteroids, the last of us I’ll be waiting beneath the twisted tree North of undone Due east of dead ends Where the intersection of the stars Glare across the sky Painted drones of violet

The resting Styx  Parrots the sky Stuck in time Floating ash and pulling leaves of thyme To count and measure All the individual pleasures Human and inhumane Plucked and discarded To wash ashore, kindred gallow Beneath the sleeping willows 

Those that are farthest In the melting pot of emotions To be dreamed and feathered away to ash Cling to the ideals of tomorrow With gems fixated in the cornea  Of the twinkle in the sky Pale reflections, crystal as solace Calm as illusions cast in the shape  Molded by futures And every possibility toContinue reading “Space”