My search for wisdom

Hello

5 notes

are you poland

all my friends are sovereign nations
we have packs not to attack
less we loosen our hands
trade routes are parilas
and pushing armies
get hungry, smaller countries
tend to get sacked and their webs
get hacked with is a perilous world
and friendship is made of gold,
for as long as the covalent bonds hold

Filed under poetry spilled ink

1 note

i knew him
i think he will love you
but what is love when it used
his number goes with yours
two score and more
if i find sympathies
pain is a match box
and broken hearts
have cold hands
fire are the only commands
that make recovery worth a chance.

Filed under poetry spiled ink

0 notes

even if there tears

the process can be a well

dipped into inkless and kind
but all wells run dry
and the aquiver gets tapped
drained of the things that make work
like love or pain maybe even  shame
the things that create goose bumps
shivers and bitten lips, experience
is limitless but you need to be open

ready to activate and be ready
to make new things to fill the soul
and let the ink flow.

Filed under poetry spilled ink

1 note

Harlots and beast

pencil shavings stain the wrist
soap and water kill an artist grip

given to erasing experience
blood on your hands and mud on your feet
you take of the uniform, file down your fangs
discide the monster behind your eyes
the lie is learning your blank and burning
desire and intention, hidden with powder and beauty
anger and empathy broken and hungry
change your clothes and dress your eye
immoral heartbreaker with contacts and smiles
lips that poison the soul and i am alone
give me a flashlight and bifocal lenses
magnify the creatures that haunt me in shadows
armor for sleep darling goblins of love
i am protected, so go hunt down some other clown

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1 note

paraphrase a shadow

gap in the soul i fold my self into it
golden and timeless empty nuisance
petrified in my hours so quiet
dreaming is nothing and nothing is quiet
deathless dancing spirits spiraling
twirling vertues in gilded voices
songs move and I move with them
there is nothing, no one, never ending silence
open my eye and alive i am again
a maelstrom of meanings
spit me back into existence
i’m alive but what is that after experiencing silence

Filed under poetry spilled ink i need to stop buying tool albums

3 notes

hows about dismantling destiny for awhile
i wanna think in the now, well that is to say the present
the future is a joke of plans and ideas
i can’t tie my shoes without thinking about my next steps
lets just crack the sky and pause the surf
let lifes coast on fumes while i sleep in my room

 

Filed under poetry spilled ink

2 notes

the ocean is just a container
and the things gliding beneath the surface
are the people of a different world
atlantis without borders
a feast of strength and weakness
life without laws or pop cultures

sharks aren’t even worthy of news
when you go deep enough
the weight of their world
would crush everything

man has made or misshapen

Filed under poetry spilled ink

1 note

love songs for people you admire
and hate crime for people you despise
nothing like ignorance and happenstance
had you grown up with a deity
you might prefer humble beauty

likewise had your flags been red
you might wish democracy was
something more like anarchy

Filed under poetry spilled ink

0 notes

5 cents an ounce

i sit alone in a coffee shop
its not really a coffee shop
more like a place where they sell coffee
t shirts, mugs, and silver spoons
ok so its a truck stop,
i sit at the place where trucker hats are cool
not that they art cool, post ashton kutcher
drinking coffee by myself,
thinking about life and stuff
when all of a sudden i drift into a stream
like a subconscious disconnection
an empty space between yo-yo up
and yo-yo down, the hand time of life
here in lets say the quiet time
i find a memento of something like a memory id left behind
a though about a girl i assumed i forgot,
today was her bday, i lived in this moment
wondering to myself, letting the feelings
create and dissolve… the moment passes

and oh and i snap back into reality
realizing i’ve been making an obnoxious
sipping sound… time to pay mycheck
and  write a poem to someone
who was born today  

 

Filed under poetry spilled ink

1 note

go to where the stars know your name
then change your name and be an enigma

this is the kind of thing that makes mystery
out of everyday things, become a secret
and be a thing to be discovered,
there will always be people who want to
discover who you are.

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