No war, nor conviction

Cut
the old ribbon
from the trunk
of the oak tree

what was once
a silken yellow
is now tattered
& brown

Don't buy worry from the wind

A wisp of depression
&
that
waft of woe

even if able to keep up your pace
it quietly rambles in the background
over tribulations
which could very well win your attention when
doing dishes
for the third time in
a day

since it breathes so well thru monotony

& life being
a broken record on repeat
it gives more than a fair chance
for trouble
to get a hold of you

even if
just by the collar of the psyche

Fumbling w/ the edges of an empty space

Like
a nervous twitch
too
irresistible to indulge

it’s an unforgettable texture

the reach
of
your focus must touch

just to know it still exists

Believe

Sometimes
you’ve gotta
let go of yourself
in order to
cope

or
living will eat you
alive

Where's the fucking silence!?

Half the time
it’s as if another hand
has a grip on a pitch shift
in between my ears

a wail from out the ass crack
of everything & nothing

so much so
at times I
wince
& grab a hold of a tuft of the air
beside my head

or press
a palm to my chest as if to say
I might as well
split my
wing
or faint

My friends at age 3

He would get home
around 3am
& find me giggling
in a
dark corner

asking what I was doing
I would tell him:
playing w/ my friends

a chill would rush up
his spine while
deciding
it was just an
overactive imagination

& that sort of
worked

until the day
my older siblings
saw them too
& found
a way
to show
him

Resounding w/ more than a simple beat

As an emotion
which embraces
the entire
being

the act
of a heart’s beat
is worth
more than a strain
of an ear to
hear

it’s worth living

beyond
a physical
need

or
curiosity

Another fall creeps in

& in between
my cells & bones
shifts
any misperception
of comfort
I may have scratched up
for my own
sanity

during spring
for
summer

& in the South in August
to step outside is like walking
into the fetid grounds
of a mass grave

the stench inspires
me to seek the ability
to dismantle
my everything
& toss it in that grave

before
winter takes
its place

in hopes to drift away
w/ mother nature’s
current change

Every field worth burning will grow anew

Too long ago to clock
much of my time
was spent in mind & gut
shattering fear

over certain events
which held potential to mar
aspects of my life

I thought were worth
cherishing

now
I’ve seen each
wellspring
& inch of security
molested & trampled on

&
the only
conclusion I’ve arrived at
is
not being able to say

whether or not
I care

anymore

I said

Thanks
for the show
but
I gotta go

the feeling
it gave
was less than
okay

in fact
the display
was a
cowardly mess

& I would
get depressed
if I stooped to relive
the experience

twice

A good reason to cry

Like an obligation
you must
tend to it

or

you may never know
the reasons for
why

Tell me

What
dream did you dream
last night

I’d like to know

did it show tender beauty
& acute sorrow
from a brief glint
off the face of a single coin

you had
spotted lost on
the hot pavement
of your
waking day

Another yellow submarine

Today is the birthday
of the man
that claims to be my father

he’s locked up tight

& when
his lawyer or the guards
try to communicate
each time it’s
stated
they shouldn’t have him
in custody

because he’s a special agent
operating under a code
yellow

&
I wonder if he wonders
why
his superiors haven’t
arrived
to get him
out

Not that kind of dance

Being unintentionally
stupid
doesn’t mean you’re dumb

& too

still means
you’re not allowed
to stand on
my feet

For a better toy

Dragging a so-called
friendship along
the floor

like a shoestring
for a cat

like a toy
you hold power over
to make-believe
you hold power over me

will only
get
your shit
scratched & ditched

Dependably weird

I am not
a go-to cul-de-sac

to spin donuts thru

when your days
get too predictable
& your mind
weary

Squeezing the trigger on fear

Darker than the lowest depth
of every grave
&
deeper than the caverns
 of a blue hole

as imperceptible as the muffled sigh
uttered from oblivion
before opening its mouth to release
its most intricate of screams

some realities shake stability
from out of
its deceptively even sway

4am in a room lit w/ scented candles

Playing
in the background, was
a television w/
signal interference, the
image was partly broken into
a chunky discolored pattern
shifting on the screen
in an awkward
dance

every other 5 seconds
an actual word
or tune
may have pulled thru,
but acting more
as tease than as release

if anything

its static pinched
at my burning ears & stung
the brow of an aching
face

my flesh wore
a coat of lacerations,
keeping wrapped w/in
the twinge
of  a feeling
akin to
internal bleeding

That one step that creaks

W/ rusted nails
& a warped plank
it speaks of
past reasons to reach
another perceived
plateau

in a room nobody knows

A sense of wellbeing

A cobweb
in a corner can carry
plenty of color,
depending on its environment

Exacting existence

What rests in the details

is the finality  of nothing

&
the beginning
of
everything

Sober coping

Being
willing to be drug
across a bed of nails
by hooks slid thru
the toes,
instead of just
pretending
to rest
atop agony

Forever in flowers

As if always in winter

sin
is necessary
for
the end product

in
order
to go on growing thru
each
beginning

So you can't turn the volume down, then find a different frequency

Ease up
off
your own pain
&
watch the rainfall

instead

Now

Be
the unseen
adhesive that
holds
material together

Just for good measure

Some people leave
a mark
on you like a boot print
in the mud
& on certain days they put
their foot back
in the small
of your
soul

& there’s no reason
to act surprised
anymore

as it’s basically
expected

Well

Just having trouble forgiving myself
for the details I can’t let go of
as they pass, knowing
those facts
will just jump up
& sting me
twice
down the road

maybe too
it’s my callus vanity
which makes it difficult to
reach another point
in acceptance

or perhaps it’s that
I keep forgetting
to breathe, so it’s akin to
being
stuck in time

Folding oats

Rarely do I actually get
angry

it poisons the body
too easily

acceptance is a better key

I still tend to get more angry
when in a situation
it’s inclusive
tho

anger burns the esophagus

so scarcely do I
bitterly indulge

Bare essentials

Others
may try
to drape
labels on me
when I’m out

but
when I’m home
alone
I like to walk around
nude

The new Fen-Phen

‘Girl___
what did you take
to end up
looking like THAT?
Hook me up
w/ your secret!’

Oh___
what you’re looking for
is illness & poverty
so intense
it ruins your life
physically

to the point
of being drug inches up
to your own death,
just praying
you’re lucky enough
to survive,
w/ something
resembling
sanity