0
Ode to Caffeine
...
Glorious dark liquid
necromantic concoction
liquid of life
artificer of awareness
black queen of temptation
Queen Mab's absent companion may never tire
for your vials of inspiration end her dancing
0
Existence is based on the collective belief we have in it.
...
The real geniuses don't strive for merit or award. They don't work impressive jobs or have impressive degrees in obscure scientific fields, nor do they desire them. They know that when it all boils down to the solute, nothing matters. Because when your decaying in the ground and the illusion of life has...
Read More
0
...which way is the door...
Fire burning plastic flowers surrounding fields of fresh blooms taking in the darkness of a dying sun that breaths its last breath on my soul in the hope of a new day. A final day leaping into the sky like burning butterflies of sliver heaven metal. Only the just take their refuge in such fields bringing new life to my...
Read More
0
Sometimes the box of reality seems to push its muffling walls close to my head, forcing me to notice the slaughterhouse ramp on which we all live. All in line one by one moving ever closer to the man with the sledgehammer, that wet thud and then they cut you up for what they can use. Footsteps down busy city streets, the row-homes seem almost...
Read More
0
... the idea that we are alone...

My boots fall endlessly upon the poorly lit streets at night. I can feel the strap across my shoulder from which my bag dangles creating a sweaty blotch on my t-shirt beneath it. After walking endlessly the same carpet all day youd think my feet would be numb to this mile walk home, but each footstep seems to...
Read More
0
The picture tube blasts its slime above my head. I wonder if Dr. Farnsworth would have thought ninety years after his invention it would have slowly evolved into the medium by which an entire population is kept lazy and afraid. Give me a bucket of canned laughter to drown my sorrows in.

....

So many words do not seem to comfort a searching for the...
Read More
0
ages turn like butterfly wings in the grass and I watch my life drift by like a good novel drawing the reader on always wanting to know what happens next. Can the world be bought with a newly cleansed soul. All the sins of the child shall be passed on to the man. Only he can swallow mountains of puffed chests and pretending to remove...
Read More
0
Wanderlust

Wandering your halls;
Delightful labyrinth,
Reveling in your yellow beams;
Silken lilacs,
Dancing flames lie beneath your shell;
Free-verse melody,
Blushing soldiers carry me in your tune;
Porcelain sunlight,
Face to banish frost and shadow;
Delicate composer,
Fingers sing your song;
Delightful labyrinth,
A wanderer desires not to see the end.
0
Peering out of this upstairs window I can see the sun coming up over the jagged broken city horizon. Most of my life has been nothing but avoiding the rays of light cast from its bright form that seems to follow me overhead, like a parent watching over your shoulder for ten hours a day. Its funny how when a vague idea that you once...
Read More
0
The muffled sounds from the television fade through the layers of carpet and wood above my head. It seems like its always on, taking up the silence, passing the moment, and filling my head so I dont have to think. It becomes harder and harder to distract myself from the ever glowing cathode ray distraction, escaping the numbing escapism. I havent left the house all...
Read More
0
Wash. It washes over me like so many sounds exuding from the stack of speakers. I see a vision of a ghost a half form of myself moving like a twitching branch in the wind of a hurricane. You move like tomorrow and pull me into the melee of your body. Thoughts like a voice pouring over the electric currant flowing in my brain. The...
Read More
0
Dead Lines
...
ever ended, watching watery stone, fire demon
above blue and white, rage for it, eat my soul
with turmoil, black firebrand, twisting
blind faithless, love, hate, vile boiling stomach
mindless dance, pain entrenching, never open
dark eyeless thought, now, not the notion
another waste

clock ticks silently, hands spin, red lights, green lights
I hear the radio static grow louder, shock me...
Read More