My search for wisdom

Hello

4 notes

you are the archivist
none levels your mind
render your treasures imortal
keep them and recreate them
never allow this place or this time
to belittle the beauty of heritage
still, humans change
people change, culture changes
forward progress means
letting things go

 

Filed under poetry

2 notes

some of the best poets might never be known
the spark that ignites inside the heart
or mind or whatever get the engine running
typically gets kick started by romance,
the master class of writing can be learned in lips
the best poets the true dreamers
or the creators of the dream
the self sufficient architects of the craft
held back by feer might never write a line
absent romance, loveless and lost

Filed under poetry

0 notes

visceral

sometimes minus the he or she
there still live emotion demanding expression
in times a real crisis there is a spiceless light
a tasteful hand full of disasters
commanding released in fiery burst
of human contact that want and need nothing
but give like guns belching smoke and fire
below the prose of words in worthless phrases
splashing water on your face
drifting off in the echoing enhanced empathy
of sharing something with anyone
devoid of reason or need just some use
for the useless for a time to believe your breathing
sinking into desire laying the world a line
catching the twirling pull of giving into being

Filed under poetry

3 notes

existing in a lie

and your approve of the pain
it won’t be any worse than the shame
it all seem familiar
old hat to the sadness of not getting attention
even if its hard to take, colored grey
spotted with blood col like emptiness
not having that heartache in your life
the misery of meaning nothing to someone
feels just a little bit better than feeling something for no one

 

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2 notes

heart ache is hardly gender specific
the fire of a crushing sadness is universal
some people only seem to handle it better
romance is like an army depot
and memories of happyness
relate best to incendiary bombs
ticking away behind a lovers eyes
theres a time undisclosed
but foretold in a  bottle somewhere down the line
right about at the bottom
somewhere in the future
all there was and all there will be
will spill into someones eyes as the digital clocks hit zero
and  those bombs start hissing
for release as the emptiness takes hold
the unmoved love, will is reduced to liquid misery
becoming steam bursting their seams
explosive with self destructive tendencies

 

Filed under poetry

1 note

cans and bottle stack by the door
second floor blues move in the groove

worn smooth the ruts from the fridge to the keyboard

the world seems a chore while i still own a dry erase board
cluttered and devoid of order ideas fade or where clumsily erased
long songs well in the air shuffled playlist and altered states of bliss
the endorphins spike and slide by drying in the warm florida nights
i toss a cap to the can and the sounds a chorus line of chymes
settling in a little metallic thud, there’s a dreamer in their somewhere
cluttered like the guttural mindstate

of 20 somethings in their prime, exiting tedium
through happy smiles and miles of unrevealed cotton
this rotten sentiment, we bind around the music of the night
drunk and tired hoping for sparks

Filed under poetry spilled ink

1 note

the check out line
a few minutes past nine
20 minutes to tell the guy
“yeah the freys are fine”
he argues and refuses to pay
she plays at empathy

but really wishes he would
simply quit and hit eh bricks
finally he leaves junior bacon che in hand
the lines moves
she looks a little blue
i talk first “ high how are you”
she thinks, or looks to be thinking
10 seconds of dead air
and she begins “ i’m good”
i reply “ thats nice are you having a good night”
i’m the only one in the line
and theres nothing going on
she stammers to a start
in a reply “ii could be better i guess
you saw that mess” i nod
she goes on, the dialogue glazes
over i remember i’m hungry and at some point
i say, “hey 3 of what he got”
and i leave hoping i made her a little bit happy

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2 notes

a run in the veil

warpaint but the canvas remains
hair dun like the sun in the spring
leaving the feast for all those better than me
but i see, i’m her and i see,
i believe in the dream i know the ocean of bones
i’ve combed the stranded away
i know where the bald spots play
my lips have highlighted in goose bumps
the inches that makup and fabric mask
i don’t mind the eyes, i’m proud you still try
but you found the fire in my eyes
i don’t much care for the disguise
but what ever makes you happy
i guess is allright

 

Filed under poetry spilled ink

3 notes

ranty

tired of living in places that have catchphrases
“beach life” or in other words
vanity over human decency
avoid the drunk but pain the sidewalks after 02:30

drive like neo notsies on two lane streets
allowing only locals to pass freely
breathing in the same air as all the townies
only flavored salty by the sea,
i’ve lived here longer than your college scholarship will last
hows about letting me park at my house
and leave me at peace when the surf is good
the water is deep and the waves are free
ill see you when the cold comes
huddled up in all the bars that serve me
ill be happy to buy you a drink and talk about your ink
but you better speak kindly
or ill open the box around your world
and close it tight, locking the hinges
so you’ll never see the beauty of open minded thinking again

Filed under poetry

2 notes

recessed  like lighting on star ships
i know the humming sound of energy coursing
in fluid chambers that pump
in lubs and dubs against those walls
my ears own those sound in seconds
the glutton that i am, i hold the score
like pages stolen from the air
hoarding the cords so i might
hum her heartbeat in my sleep

 

Filed under poetry spilled ink

2 notes

A cult of adoration

Her halo would seem a screaming wheel in the sky
an ancient pylon racing to the heavens
divinity in her words and worth in her needs
I like her other apostle march to her beet
cloned from the bones of her breed
who seek her blessing and all that comes with
believing in the possibility of her lessons
spoken privately in whispers that echo
like hallelujahs in the corners of our souls

 

Filed under poetry