Tag Archives: #angst

A Very Private Conversation Between Death & Art

[Cosmos] Does the idea of death afflict you?  Does it, coward?

[Humanity] No-no it does not!

[Cosmos] This prospect is inevitability.

And watch:  all the skies are chrysanthemums 

and the stars are little fish .  Dreaming wishing

to awaken you wished to die many times over, but now 

it is no matter — all violent are skies of your

heart turned red to purple.

[Humanity] To  die requires more than living.

[Cosmos] Then begin at the beginning and release the colors

of your art.  It is the beginning!

The weaker artist will say and ask:

“That’s why I asked you, because you are the only person I can ask

without scaring you away. If you can do it, I will give you all 

the money I have and say I will do it myself.”

[Cosmos]  Then you shall never create but reproduce.

[Humanity]  This thing must be arrested;  that is why I am asking you.

–silence–

:: 10.29.2022 ::


My Better Half

LOVE is a taste of Fear
when you don’t move

An Empty canvas of Art

Well, allow me to explain
how you forgot me:

Oh, well, vibrant touch
is what you said years
later when your life
took a turn. And all
I taught you was everything.

Oh how I bleed my heart
then you died, so far away
like a high cloud in skies.

I took a walk outside
surrounded by beating hearts
of insects and humans.

Oh i am twisted around my
head spinning as the sun
falling down — it’s my better
spirit for the Everything
of Lovely World I See —
all that I could be.

The Soul I loved Once.

:: 05.5.2022 ::


CATCHER IN THE RYE

B U T T E R F L Y catch the catcher in the rye
my oh my how feelings eat my heart and would
you believe if i said nature loves a whore
of course we could have dinner and squabble over words.

Now is not the time and time is never now.

A lost conception of mind & it really socks me here
there inside my aching heart.

And if you’ve fought yourself who made up with you now
just the moan deep inside the empty now:

such is superficiality in society &
how we bleed red and deep purple
lips wishing we had never breathed
air.

As are these feelings eating my heart
and you’d never believe nature is
a queen of unforgiven gifts as life.

A Catcher in the Rye.

:: 03.18.2022 ::


DOMESTIC QUEER FEAR

I was the perfect appliance for you
fitting so nicely between a stove
and the kitchen sink
I saved you time and cooked dreams
a perfect lover I wiped your tears
when my apron hugged too tight!
I reminded you of a promise
your tears soaked into the stonewerk
and my song killed the moment
when I sang it…
“I am a fear within your brain
a domestic dream you ruined
a perfect dream so special dear
I run from you”
So promise dear a warranty too
our secret washes and cycles heat
and leaves no stains just lemon bright
I saved you time; a special moment
where life holds you and role models die but hearts hear
that you aren’t so perfect too
you are a dream more than he knows
you’re fucking special so fucking special
you are a dream man-girl and i hate you so much


FEELS SO LIKE BROKEN GUITAR STRINGS & HEARTS

(baritone voice)
CRITICS and audiences agree: “the best horror story of a decade”
(girlie man voice)
iT’S MORE THAN a feeling
  when i kill you     more than embryo (Tate!) and Manson
dances \ Come load up on guns, bring your friends It’s (sO) fun
to lose and pretend  Who knows if ;the moon
is balloon, coming out of a puss=eye purple windows, flat rooftops!
Towers!  I say reason!  You say you’re stupid, and here we are now!
for without LOVE i do not play!
Awe so cute and dirty kitty so shy i kept her in my wet arms and say
“behind the bath house we went, so stupid, and now!  ROAR!”
i so love you girl and now turn to all my verses ~~ too dangerous
to be on the roads tonight!
so HERE WE ARE NOW
:: 07-10-2015 ::

THE WORLD’S BLOOD POURS IN VAST AMOUNTS OF TEARS

TO see you >like eating  paper-cut bleeding memories< secret
luminous whose soul and smile
imperviously kisses all my          timeless soul!
a silver Snail!(         here, inventing
stares like U!     ) Prince of sensitivity
a SPIRIT INK dripping    of so fascinating con-
VERSATION by vagina          I offer to bow so low
like scholars, in dusty halls of academic anemic fell
so weak after tasting the  fruit of your garden of
Eden!  Oh words be sick as I am sick –>a royal worried
for my soul:  which at best    is bestly a talent for
only poetry.
And I wish I had more chances more opportunity to chase the
heat of the sun; spliced, I’m half of what I was born
FREAK!  And the world’s blood POURS in vast amounts of tears
across the valley of missed opportunity like high school
GEEK!  FREAK!  HEAD!  no one__.

:: 06-11-2015 ::


MY SOURCE

THE deep I need
a source in life
the well I draw
to quench my words

If it dries
my life will wither
and my spirit to dust
will crumble

:: 01-25-2014 ::