Unfortunately I have no new poetry to post today.
Author: Matt Johnson
We’re so tiny in reality
The world doesn’t care for you or I
Deep in this monster
We’re just little drone bees
Coming home legless
No longer qualified
Poetry inspired by nature:
Honey bees like a treat sometimes, sap from lime trees. This sap ferments and they get drunk. And if they make it back to the hive, the ‘guard bees’ will take their legs off for punishment.
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New posts every Tuesday.
My insanity
I breathe in the toxicity
But never the antidote
Because I’m immune
And I’ve got words writhing
Like flies caught in a web
Tongue tied
Into silence
while these monsters
run rampant in my head
New posts every Tuesday.
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Thanks.
Illusions
Precious illusions
are the essence
of every good religion
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New posts every Tuesday.
Zephry will conform herself around you
Whispering the worlds indifference.
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New posts every Tuesday.
Battle in my head
You are the catalyst
Weaving notions on my skin
I get lost in my emotional paralysis
Till the sentiments sink in
Then comes the anguish
With logic on my shoulder
Playing devils advocate
But I can’t listen to him
Because to my heart
time doesn’t exist
And there just isn’t enough time
to resist.
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New posts every Tuesday.
The immortal fight
A ribbon of smoke billowed an apology between them
Hostility temporarily suspended
As they eyed one another from behind their cherry lit ends
the deer head peered upon the silence
that smeared the air between them
The saxophone mere white noise
unable to penetrate the moment
Only turning their heads from one another
to watch her feet burdened in high heels
as she walked towards the one she chose
which wasn’t either of them
Their nostrils flared
and behind gritted teeth they faked pleasantries
Before taking it outside in the street
Noses cracked and busted lips
Hatred snaking through cigarette mist
Till the bobby comes on the beat
To resume assumed peace
