He dreams about her far too often…
No matter the elixir he consumes.
Whether it be wine,
Or a dry martini,
A swig of codeine,
Or herbal remedies,
the reveries,
They never cease.
The Endless Night
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Tag Archives: Trapped
Reality Check
It saddens me that in this day and age, the majority of my generation cares more for what we display on the outside, rather than focus on the souls we stow on the inside. Until this trend diminishes, I do not see myself finding true love, but rather ignorant love.
Another note: If only we realized how full of shit each and every one of us really is, this world would be a better place
Check, Please!
Is there no end to the guilt that I feel?
Do I blame myself for another’s yield?
If light means life then I must concede;
the darkness has found me, as daylight recedes.
It smears carbon black over eyes pearl white.
Concealing the pleasure, enforcing the blight.
The agony is a bore, life becomes a chore;
when all that I can fathom
is the day it ran me ragged.
How To Kill A Man
It’s enough to kill a man, unrequited love.
It’s enough to keep his Winters frigid
and his Summers smoldering.
He’ll rarely feel comfort anymore.
At times a glimmer crosses his eye
and normality kisses his forehead,
then skitters off down the lane,
laughing as the man’s futile stride
stumbles over a storm drain
Collapsing to his knees,
cursing what’s left
Of his mediocre life.
Unrequited Love
He sometimes finds it unbearable to rise from slumber
Knowing well the thoughts concealed at night
Wipe the sandman from their eyes to cumber
A man who asks if love for him will ever reignite
Waiting for the answer the man crawls out of bed
Succumbs as the bombardment of her memory
Ricochets relentlessly around his drooping head.
And the man waits, only to hear a Songbird’s melody.
Night Concealed By Day: A Poem
I find myself betrayed by the morning’s light
Yet I find truth in the night’s dark sky
Blood shot eyes find redemption in the shadows
The truth burns away in the light strong or mellow
I see myself trapped behind these walls
No way out, no one to hear my calls
Alone in this darkness, I wish for day
At least then my true self will be stowed away
I fear not what night brings my way
But the fear lies in knowing what they will say
The time will come when night will turn to day
My eyes will be open, crooked smile
And my shadow will be sheltered in denial
Two Tabs of Mescaline By GlassJaw
… sounds pretty amazing right now
I smell the sound of a growing gash
With pop sensibilities.
K-Q-E-D
“It’s a tune that equals you.”
I feel
Hallelujah I fail,
Bulemia I’m frail.
Hallelujah I fell,
Salting the back of a snail.
And…
This is worship and this is tribute
Am I crumbling, ripping and failing?
Knowing you fit, you fit, you fit in…
And, and,
You fit in!
K-Q-E-E-E-E-E-E-D
“It’s a tune that equals you.”
I feel
Hallelujah, I fail,
Bulemia, I’m frail.
Hallelujah, I fell,
Salting the back of a snail.
And…
Am I worshipping or am I tributing?
Loving, crumbling, ripping, and failing.
My turkish prison is knowing I fit in.
And, and,
I fit in!
Feeding time,
An old friend of mine
At the leper zoo, yeah yeah
Que sera?
Erotic hurrah
With no rescue, girl.
Feeding time,
An old friend of mine
At the leper zoo, yeah yeah.
Que sera?
Erotic hurrah
It’s cool.
Be cool, girl.
Sailor, Sailor
Sailor, Sailor
Sailor Scent
Sailor Sailor Scent Sailor Sailor Sailor Scent.
And…
worship, tribute
crumbling, ripping, and failing
Knowing you fit, you fit, you fit in…
And, and,
you fit in!
Feeding time,
An old friend of mine
At the leper zoo, yeah yeah.
Que sera?
Erotic hurrah
With no rescue, girl.
Feeding time,
An old friend of mine
At the leper zoo, yeah yeah.
Que sera?
Erotic hurrah
It’s cool.
Be cool, girl.
Sometimes the Past Hurts More than the Crash
No longer in control. With every attempt to escape, the dark passenger refuses to fold. Lost in a daze through a mind turned maze. Every corner a new face, thought to be erased; a fresh ping of desire, one more log in the fire. Though no light breaks the seal, the burning sensation is soon revealed. The past becomes present. My future; non-existent.
The Way it Goes 