My search for wisdom

Hello

4 notes

twenty four bouring marks and riots in his heart

i give in to the middle sense of sensation
the average and mundane
like how i saw my parents in my youth
the natural selection busting
superficial race that orders progress
i become the rut and let my wheels settle in
my early twenties are beginning to feel like a trap

beer money and rhyming tendencies
i’m just an aspect of an age group
captured and field into a genre that smart people
objectify in popular news sites
between the violence and celebrity waste
Knowing this i still hunger for chaos
and romance that is more tiresome
than healthy, i wanna hart that greys in the dark
and smiles like cats content in bliss
but i’m getting old and all the  interesting girls
are getting married or getting clean

so i exorcise my liberty in drinking to their health
resting in the hope of luck and madness
in warm honey on my lips

Filed under poetry creative writing

2 notes

moving in he believes he is hunting
easily he is taken unawares
just a victim standing there
As she allowed herself to be taken in
she need only be present for  a moment
just long enough for him to get his guard down
then she springs the trap
opening her palm his eyes pan down
he reaches for her hands,
she fluttered her fingers
they lace and her lips are open
the colors painted on hours before are like a bulls eye
he hits the target, while his hands bring her in
she is the web and the spider
and the hunter becomes the prey

Filed under poetry spilled ink

2 notes

hormones and shrapnel

the tires whirl into the spot,
the lights die and people my age come outside
their young and drunk and filled with light
twirling on their heels
they file into rows and break into smaller groups
giving each other long goodbyes
i sit in my car waiting
for the most appropriate moment to exit the vehicle,
as a brunette with pretty eyes
gets pressed against my door,
i’m trapped and utterly forced to watch
the man holding her in giving me a thumbs up
i do nothing

Filed under poetry spilled ink

0 notes

i become a master of formality s
wishing for a decisive reality
to abduct me like ash from evil dead
or the kid who landed in king Arthur’s court
i want a classical approach to an old addiction
treated with words but boiled down
to longing for romance or at the very least
i’m hurtin for options, i wanna
be the main character in a drama
thats less ambiguous than the average
national lampoon movie

Filed under poetry

0 notes

tactical treatments

complicated love songs
become hyper specific
drumming up real feelings in people
who felt real emotions
at real times, thus real music
makes people cry ,
tears don’t sell records
so love songs and pop music
becomes eerily vague

and made for mass appeal

Filed under poetry

0 notes

science is a word
in a language
that animals don’t understand
lonely bugs no they’re in love
when they see a pretty color
on the back of a beetle
its a feeble feat of beauty
but it makes the time between them
equal to a generation of beetles
who will all have that stripe
spreading that one Beatles love
till winter and the color call the predators

Filed under poetry

1 note

static crackles
and extremity  drum up energy
chemistry is a state of being
and to molecules creating
pretty connections

Filed under poetry

1 note

cracking

still she might move
or make some advance
and i will be a child
empty of experience
and simple in step
waiting to hold her in for a moment
not caring for the chaos
just happy to dwell in the seconds
before fire takes me
and nothing interesting creeps into me
and i see what fiction brings
into head that make good things
into bad habits and regret

Filed under poetry

1 note

ouroboros of apathy

for a time i let go
to watch what life might bring
in the sullen moments
when i became a spring stretching
distance and time
relative to the fact that i cared
just for fix and bliss
ideas piling in ashes on my window sill
cutting my feet on bottle tops
walking to the shower to fix up a cut

and drift into some smut
the pornography of fake reality
fiction made from drug fueled nirvana
escapist in vogue, i dreamed of things to
i will never remember,
burning my dream journals
to keep my body warm, a dreamer
in a cyclical cycle of decay
bad news and deep blues
layed me into a sedimentary mood
for as long as the earth moved
i might still be that guy,
just at the head of the cycle
eating the tail end of my life

Filed under poetry

1 note

hands trace into existence

light in motion captures
seconds flash
message made in
pointless shapes
arms and fingers light quake
energy that pass the time
yellow light evaporates
envy for prolonged resistance
static glow moves and flows
and dies in the seconds
exposed for a time

Filed under poetry

2 notes

new in a place of changing states
a face and a mind to words
in lips and body motions
she becomes as water does
shifting between positions
looking for a proper balance
in ways to not offend or decisive
looking for the best way to lie
long enough to take no sides
until you find the right people
not alienating everyone else

Filed under poetry