Poem: Impure

I couldn’t really fathom, you said you were my friend
But was I really all that special, or did you just pretend?
Are my prayers so unworthy? are my thoughts so impure?
That my secrets should stay hidden under this hood of misery

I ask; how can this happen? You ask; how can this be?
The remnants of our friendship are washed away to sea
Although we cried for mercy, the world rejected it
Were our desires so unearthly that we burned them in a pit.

There’s a window in the bedroom, a light piercing through the clouds
So gather up your wishes and stare the city down
When the moon rises above us, come the creatures and the damned
So gather up your wishes and stare the city down

It was never meant to happen, but nothing could be done
Hand in hand we felt it , but all you did was run
Is it truly so unholy? Is it truly so unsound?
That you give up what is calling, for a place among the clouds

You ask; how can this happen? I ask; how can this be?
The pounding of our lifelines pulse simultaneously
Although you won’t admit it, you’re ignorance and pride
Were our desires so unearthly, that a brother had to die

There’s a window in the bedroom, a light piercing through the clouds
So gather up your wishes and stare the city down
When the moon rises above us, come the creatures and the damned
So gather up your wishes and stare the city down


Poem: Lone Wolf

He walked in from the pouring rain,
notices the thumping on the roof,
pulls up a glass and pours himself a drink
He loosens his bootstraps and sits in bed.
Water backs his eyes as his mouth goes dry
He grabs the remote and points it at the television.
His eyes are fixed on it but he doesn’t see the twisted wheels;
turning in his head.
He hears the voices drifting from the television
They only pass through him and splash flat against the wall.
The air kisses his skin with icy cold lips.
Memories float from the deep but they speak no words and make no sounds.
He takes another sip from his frosty glass.
He says goodnight for the night is at an end.

As he sleeps, the woods awaken gasping for air.
Eyes illuminate the shroud of trees, crawling closer to the man in sleep
The moon hummed a somber tune.
Noises felled the air.
A stagnant wind guided the falling rain.
A movement of leaves on trees with empty hands.
A lone wolf howls and makes his mark
Lurking in shadows, closer…closer
With fangs of thorns, he gnawed on his neck
And dragged him back into the woods somewhere


Poem: White Noise

White Noise

The cat tied to my tongue, now he plays a silent tune
of sorrow and regret, no money, none coming in anytime soon.
I’m slamming into walls that I have built.
I grabbed the sharpened blade when aiming for the hilt.

White noise between my ears, a pen without a pulse
nothing sounds like me at all; the scribbles of impulse.
Perhaps this isn’t me, perhaps these words are untrue
refusing to spit out, the self-imprisoned muse.

Surprise, surprise, he’s gone, my one and only friend.
A cursed, punished tongue, keeps silent until the end.
Perhaps it is because the ground quivers as I walk
Or maybe it is the way my face gives way my soul.

I’m not old, I’m only twenty-one.
But all these thoughts steal my bed til up comes the sun
they push and pull me every which way, but never force a movement
Not a twitch, not a wiggle, not a step towards improvement


Poem: Blackest Night

Blackest Night

The Blackest Night Beckons.
It enslaves my every fiber with the chains of solitude
and pulls me into a vortex.

The air is stagnant; polluted.
Molecules of thought float above my head
expanding into the surroundings.
Cognitions slam against the mirrors
then reflect with a mighty bound through my eyes
into every axon on every neuron of the body.
I am an entity composed of electrical signals.
Electrical signals that sometimes hurt.
In Blackest Night they claim a power to keep me floored.
Existence, in this moment, is a joke
because of these electrical signals
whose patterns erupt at 800 pulses a second into a collision with my well being.

Existence, in this moment, is a joke.
The Blackest Night Beckons.


Poem: Sleep Paralysis

Sleep Paralysis

Greek bodies,
The marble pales in comparison
I think I’m awake
Auditory hallucination
Chirping buzzing white noise
I long to be a child
I long to sink in my bed
Fall through the earth, birth me bloody
I pray for my own sake
I once thought my keyboard was played
by dancing children while I slept paralyzed

Speak into my mouth, listen to my ears
pulsating colors and buzzing white noise
Auditory hallucination
There’s is no cool side on my pillow
the grooves of my fingerprints are being filled
by beautiful bundles of silk
I’ve felt I controlled it
I once thought my keyboard was played
by dancing children while I slept paralyzed


Poem: The Core

The Core

It’s cold
Maybe it’s just me
I’m here, not here
A tunnel of memories
Detaches me from them
I’m not like them
I’m a freak
I only walk
I only breathe
I only eat
But I speak, only softly, whispers that are lost in existence
But I feel, only gently, reaching out towards the gravel
The cold gravel, Black; demeaning, humbling,
The cold gravel, fingers crushed between rugged stone, the crunching of bones
Breaking Breaking Breaking; bones breaking
The Cracking echoes violently pounding the ear drums
A reminder that I’m not good enough
The sun does not rise if it peeks out to the view of my crippled self
I need a hole
A damp dirty distant detached hole
Deep in the earth
So I can crawl on my bleeding knees, to the earth’s core
Where no one has been
I want to be where no one has been
The core. Feel the Black heat of death
Cold isolation in life. Isolation, Isolation
I want Isolation, I need Isolation
But they pull me , Why do they pull me
I’m not like them
Why do I like them
The Core, I will crawl to the core, and burn
Burn with black light, burn away and crumble
Crumble in the core


Poem: Change ad Infinitum

Change ad Infinitum

Change ad Infinitum
Not even demons subscribe to permanence.
A concept unique to life.
Haunting beauty and powerful eloquence
Silver tongue of the sky and the birds
A song foreboding fading eminence.

We clutch at our stars, embrace and cradle,
If only for a moment.
As the march proceeds, it’s an only choice.
One we’ve never chosen.
Release yourself into the breeze
Lose yourself into the motion.

When they choose, the bells will ring
Then the clouds descend
Regardless of any offerings
Nothing can remain, Nothing will stay.
Regardless of the psalms to which you cling
Nothing can remain, Nothing will stay.