Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Sunday, October 2nd, 2016

sidewalk becons forward

a web of infinte silence

a cold apartheid of spoken affairs

in moderation, they said

ive skimmed the walls in afternoon crisp air

where i swore you stood with me there

i drained vitality from your lips

twice clutched my waterloo

a stained window bared into my soul

yet the flicker of the tinker

sank into abyss
moderation, they said


Friday, July 1st, 2016

in my dreams she wept a trail of tears 

took her to the corner of

paramount and disbelief

they called and whispered 

for her a maiden be

and they bore vile at me

cut my heart in threes

i broke her heart

free of sentiment

introducing the art of merrymaking 

long ago 


Friday, February 5th, 2016

it is the most intimate of moments in where the crystals in your eyes seem to glisten

you hide them in to cower in the darkest parts

but if i catch you in the gentlest of lights,

i catch a sight that ive watched in the dead of night

where the lack of light

or was it the lack of sleep

brought forward the massacre of the innocence for the encore of the most beautiful things

it is a wonderful way to pass all time

i hate spices of the summer kind

Tuesday, December 15th, 2015

it’s always the ones that keep you on your toes

the ones that drain you of your prose

deconstructed and exposed

pendulum of construct remains


concavity in the lines draw above my scattered heavens

idiotic it was, illogical at its point




Wednesday, November 4th, 2015

Tell me why I have been staring at this computer screen for the past two hours and tell me why I have written nothing.

Wednesday, March 4th, 2015

do not forget how much i despise you, for making me feel all too human. for prying open my soul, much lighter than previously thought


Sunday, February 8th, 2015

kiss me like a fool with eyes scarred blind by a pathological need to tunnel into my stars, my life, my love
touch me like you’ve ached with the oppression of a million stranded lovers who at the touch of the hand would send the nearest elder in search of the beginning
love me so when you make me cry out no longer will it be in pain of a long gone tomorrow who buried in the charred remains but instead with a passion too loud to answer to the walls of mother church but too quiet for the eager man to tear at his page the sounds of the dearest sin
end me end me end me like the final desperation to cling on to a life thought once magnificent yet nothing but an ill fitted prose of a beggars lost wife


Sunday, January 11th, 2015

dandelion lover wept once far away
where her hands of saturnine
in desperation of thirst for a love true
crawl to the moon
drown in lust drawn wine
cry in mascara marked pillow sheets
champagne delilah laughs in remark
whom could see love so blind
strikes the hand of the woman who
clenches her throat to force the dark provocation of heavy drawn eyes
her veins draw blue and she kisses feverishly for she sought to conquer and love her so
but dandelion lover has blown away
wept her tears in vain
holds eloquently the hand of love who doth fully enrich oneself in
delilah draws murky blue streams in search of a long lost dream
chases the matyr of a past life
there does dandelion delilah thrive
in one anothers sweet demise

dawn of a new empire

Wednesday, January 7th, 2015

The last poem i wrote was about what I thought was love.


However, it was far from it. It was far from previously envisioned memories of a meeting long ago. Neither was it the false pretense of the grab for something that I couldn’t quite have. Taking a step back from this now I realize that it was nothing short of a masochistic infatuation. One that I created based on the premise that I would have an excuse to fall back on when the lightest parts of my imagination mangled in itself to become nothing short of a terrifying monster. The monster that would soak up my assumptions of myself and the world, and paw and toy with them as I was afraid to ever look in it’s direction. I apologize to you then, as it seems everything that happened was quite unnecessary and quite frankly was all on me. All you offered was the start of a genuine high school experience, the smile to assure one that the future is not at fault. Yet I took it and manipulated the image of you into a facet of a collections I’ve cried when I looked at the mirror and saw nothing but mistake after mistake. Two whole years I managed to continue this facade. It was a cathedral where I could unknowingly go in and believe that falling to my knees would convince you and I that I was of worth. I can say of now that I still become crippled at times and fight to release into the purest air, but it is not for you. It is for I. Because I can grow empires and I am capable of setting fire to the bark that holds a false sense of security on me. The world is nothing perplexing. It is hopelessly drab and gray. I feel it every cloudy morning when the chill touches my cheeks and reflects the attributes of myself and society. I see it when I look down at the black in my coffee and I aimlessly continue to pour creamer in it, hoping somewhat to convince myself that I can continue the day. It’s in the quiet fog that trickles down into my thoughts, and leaves me pale. Yet I am able to continue and keep going forward. Because love is not suppose to be a vessel for self-acceptance. It is the faint reminisce of light at the end of the stone cold tunnel. And as of now, I believe that I have pointed myself in the right direction.