sleeping in
the afternoon
dreamless
I wake
nursing a wound
which as, I
breathe
it breathes too
a porous
little mouth
reminding
me, to rise
against
the death
of sleep,
do all
I can
to speak —
and dream —
and try
once more
to heal.
Home » Posts tagged 'prose' (Page 77)
Tag Archives: prose
stop, relax and wonder.
I know people
far too busy
to stop, relax and wonder.
And it’s quite sad
in a way
to stop, relax and wonder.
If they knew I
had the time
to stop, relax and wonder.
They’d probably scoff
like nobody ought
to stop, relax and wonder.
Until the sordid, morbid day
they stop, relax and wonder
perhaps it’s I
who’s mourned the day
one too many times over?
sex, love, and war
if it’s all
sex, love
and war
then where we stand
is better, for
what it’s worth
the things we carry
lies, lore
even drugs, barely
rock and roll
our sundry hearts
whose spirits lurk
dear Joan of Arc,
if it’s all
been heaven sent
then hear me now
as I repent,
tied together
at the stake
a Sid and Nancy
sealed fate,
but dare I ask
what you desire
if and when
they light my fire,
come on, come on
make it quick
like silver I’ve
two dimes that’s it,
nothing more
and nothing less
dear lizard king
feel this
music sung
inside my heart
sailing on
a Noah’s Ark,
and in a cage
twisted, tangled
two minds race
they jingle jangle,
pulling teeth
and gumming glass
spitting blood
and skipping mass
for if it’s all
sex, love
and war
then know the reasons
worth fighting for
Every last bit
Don’t give in, until
you’ve given up
everything.
Every
last
bit,
until
there is
nothing but air —
and everyone you know
is gasping
for one
last
breath.
rand0m th0ught #118
don’t judge yourself by
the caliber of your company
but rather,
the caliber of conversation
shared with your company
VHS
A boy, four walls, a television set
what else more can one expect
a restless head, and evenings spent
on worthless puzzles, and VHS
tapes I watched, rewound and played
late past midnight, mornings, days
in a vault of body, mind
all to merely pass the time,
how good it felt, at that first glance
to fade into title sequence
and what a time it was to be
by oneself in harmony
caricatures care not to judge,
or fight, or fuss, nor try to budge
a troubled boy in troubled times
when credits roll, press rewind
rewind…
rewind..
rewind.
If, but there is no if
I, but there is no I
Could, but there is no could
Go, but there is no go
Back, but there is no back
I think
I would
press
Eject
there is war in my heart
There’s a war in my heart
a war in my head
at night as I sleep
at war
in the bed
I’ve made
like the maid
towel swan, chocolates
convincing myself
that this war, it could end
if I only fought, as hard as my bite
perhaps than I could
sleep through the night
with or without, this war in my head
there is war in my heart
that will burn till I’m dead.
this old coffee shop
It’s all the same, all of it
except it’s all very different
from what I remember
it’s more or less weathered
the wall’s still orange
the bricks are still painted red
the music’s never stopped
it’s still sympathetic
in this old coffee shop
where I once roamed
head over heels
with everyone, though
I know it’s hard to believe
Rosie’s staring back at me
judging as if to say,
welcome back old friend —
now get the hell out of dodge!
Getting there
I
know
they’re right.
I
just
can’t stop.
Not
here,
not now.
hearts
I love
their love
that is not mine
that isn’t meant to be
for anyone else
except their
hearts
Words Of An Average White Male 