Conceptually The Adept Lion

Composite face
Shift anterior motive
Ripped up paper rocket
Symbolic in vignette for
Slow ranking clavicles
Diorama replaced racism
In so that we find amorphous
Slime pimp contagion
Of sound rotund and garnished
Far beyond reformatory.

Black Gelatinous Mass

By Sarasota my account is this
black hole weathered
back track Bolshevik encounter
to a rivalry like sour milk
we talk about shoes
silk stereo pantomime
a feather
diluted and bland
still stunned by infatuation
that beautiful scar I call
it’s a hell
a paradigm
some other fancy word
that stands out for the reader

Menstrual Bowl of Cereal

That that that
I said it before
here it is again
this is insubstantial
be more creative
adverbs are out
but nouns are still cool right?
I regrettably forget
there’s the absurd
like a poet writing metaphors
I mean similes
like, as
one would hate their language arts teacher
this might be rambling
stream of consciousness
like madness
cum bag
End Scene.

(fuck, wrong medium)

As The Moon Tickled

Bent hill horizon
Found dead without contact
As it was
Cloned itself
But sideways
Inside out and poorly insulated
Fuck full of insulin
Outright dis trodden if you ask me
Black round bulge of
Thorn bush fairy tales

This Will Be Personal

This will be personal
but I choose to share it with you
fellow Tumblrites
many of you won’t care
I don’t blame you
but sharing
and the written word
are my catharsis
there will be no absurdities
no intended jokes
clever quips
ideals for the human race
other than those reality has gifted me
there is no moral
but there is a story
I think

Here it is:
My mother is crazy
as many are
my brothers are crazy
as many are
but one of those is my twin
my first roommate
my first relationship
and our paths have diverged
as many do
I chose a life of work
and postponed gratification
and he chose not this
he chose the first other who showed interest
he disappeared
no talk for a year
he could have been dead
how could we know
this other wouldn’t let us know
my mother found him pan handling on the street yesterday
sad and alone as many of us are at our most desperate
strange how at 24 
we both still know shit
I slave for the machine
he doesn’t know it exists
my family is on the brink of homelessness
and me in my cushy apartment
my meager wages
I’m powerless
my mom told me she was going to bet on some street fight
I feel powerless…
Strange things are happening to me
ain’t no doubt about it.

Who Knew?

Housing development
obscured slightly by
a poverty stricken renaissance
killjoy reformed church
of a pagan enterprise
practiced by witches
in retrospect
I never knew my father
but so it goes
I guess
Vonnegut was always a prophet
a vandal
by me
an idiot

Solipsistic Suicide Anthem

everyone is sad
and angry
we are all downtrodden
the platypus among
ducks, rabbits, and snakes
no one likes us
thinks we’re pretty
or the cooliest
but we have us
we have
the sky
the moon
a notebook
a periodical chariot
from the abyss
that is us
our mind
our perspective
we have that kerosene lamp
in the pitch black
sparked just before the monster arrives
we have that way of
the ability to look at the shit
and say, hey
Fuck You!

One definition of Compulsion

Write write write
it’s what I tell me
past don’t matter
future could be fucked
write write write
listen to them speak
watch their shows
write write write
like a scribe raised from birth to
write write write
if a tree is crooked
or the sky too black
when god won’t listen
and satan is dead
you can
write write write
you can drink you can fuck
you can fight you can die
eat, shit, jack off
kill and cry
vote, forget
smell whatever the hell you want
smile, cheer, fake, bleed
or love
but at the end of the day
when the sun doesn’t care
your mother’s too loud
you smoked too much
if your fingers shake
at the sight of a pen
that blank paper smiles
like a long lost friend
you can put it in words
you can
write write write……

King Pin Man

King pin man
doing better than you
holier than thou
thought when
gears are important too
but he smiles wicked and pinched
squeezing vitality from the spine
only to smile some more
oppressing overlord
of your simple mind
but you can do it right?
you can be a better ghost
stronger adhesive
behind curtains you don’t know exist
listening to the ocean of poor souls
oppressed like you, tied
to a machine grinding relentlessly
scolding in the summer heat
yet you hold the key to a cooler glass of water
a smooth retreat
when was empathy
mistaken for delusion

Juvenile Port of Calcium

Beauty rattled brittle mind
blind section of this
Ill divine
cultural monster renovation
slathered gathered
fossil in a brothel shower
salivating just for power
scouring the cul de sac
hoping there can be a lack
of penetrated anal bleeding
reading Sartre’s fatal seething
creatures in this existential
violation of potential
altruistic chauvinistic
twist of thought and
make it lick
stick to a thick ticker
in your head
picked sick emotions
shit your dead
enveloped by this odd erosion
old erotic fickle notion
all you thought made sense is bland
lower than our fight for land
imploring boring snoring rhymes