The roads had been paved by violence
The residue of our ancestor’s turmoil inside us
Weaving scars
Always sensing
The shadows that walk beside us
Poetry
Blind
Buckling at the knees
Trying to stand against the turbulent wind
That etches these lines on my face
It’s not age, it’s disgrace
Fallen at every hurdle
I’m not Sisyphus
Never could be
My lips are burdened with the weight of frowning
I’m not an island
Though I tried to be
With all these thoughts
Taking flight like the birds
Around me
Gannets gouge my eyes
And Satan just flies on by
With the little yellow glint in front of their eyes
As they laugh and I cry
They are grace
But what am I?
Frankenstein
An arms race inside my mind
Trying to be of the world
When I’m blind
Birds soar
Birds soar against the wind
Retelling myths
Once believed
Ghosts
A cacophony of laughter fades
Along with the photographs on the page
Turning through time
long flown by
A ghost of a glimmer in her eyes.
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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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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
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Thanks.
Illusions
Precious illusions
are the essence
of every good religion
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Zephry will conform herself around you
Whispering the worlds indifference.
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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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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
