Unfortunately I have no new poetry to post today.
New posts every Tuesday
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I don’t want to let you go
I want to float away with you
I want to go into oblivion too
My identity insists on you
I can still hear your footsteps echoing
I’m trying to reconstruct these memories
Sharp as razor edges, broken in pieces
I’m trying to find our reflection
But all I see is a stranger fading from me
Your face began to wane
And now you look like anyone
And I’m afraid
Because though you’re slipping away
I’ve left a part of me too
And it’ll always be with you
But all you left me
Were different shades of blue
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Burdened with this
The bull will run
Going head first
The blood will come
Running with this
The world will rain
Hurting, we bleed
The storm will reign
The needle to our veins
And when we wake up
The warriors in us
Will have been slain
Written in 2016.
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New posts every Tuesday.
I’m a master baiter
Got you hook line and sinker
Even though you think yourself a free thinker
But one smile and virtue signalled
And you’re all over the advertisement
Approving of my blemished truths
Trusting me not to be uncouth
Thinking I should sell myself and my cure
On business cards stuck in telephone booths
Talking my lines down the wires
To ears undisturbed by my truths
I find that people who tell me not to consume too much media consume a shitload of media about why they shouldn’t consume media.
When you’re brushing your teeth, do you imagine your teeth are cars in a car wash?
Because I do.
I imagine people sat in the cars rolling their eyes when they think the car wash is over… But wait! Nope, it’s not finished. It compels me to do a very thorough clean because the thought of them rolling their eyes as more froth comes upon them amuses me.
And then I imagine them breathing a sigh of relief and thinking, “It’s finally over!” and ready to put their engines back on. But they see the lights that tell them when they can leave still haven’t changed from red. So they stare at the light, “Come on!” Their knuckles going white with impatience. But then they get another assault with mouthwash now, a gargle and then the rinse after.
In the end, they have really pristine cars. But the drivers are initially too pissed off at the amount of time it takes as they know they pressed the button that said, “QUICK WASH,” which is cheaper than the deluxe wash. And they drive away wondering what the luxurious wash must consist of if the one they’ve just been through was the quick one!
I’m not typical
certainly not biblical
though my name suggests miracles
I like to think my faults are forgivable
But that only seems to make my rage more formidable
I am hardly statistical
I can find myself in numbers
Maybe I am mythical
The pinnacle of invisible
My evidence not admissible
I was born cynical
Sometimes my thoughts are unthinkable
I’m always at the periphery of transitional
Lost in the middle…