I'm your inappropriate friend and neighbor next door. The person who embarasses you with their terrible social skills. A thumb sucking foetal sleeper. A january storm for sale. A profiteer of black poetry markets. Goya's drowning dog. A lisper among stutterers. Stranger in a familiar land. Balthous gave me a guitar lesson once. I sit in a furnace and look into the angry faces of the sun. Poet I love and respect: @OliviaDresher
The mind loves what destroys it. The Queen is a snarling beast on a leash. Neurosis bleats and lions roar. I read the names of poets to the wind and space of night. Like saints I invoked the sacred artists and poets. Big words are often empty like a cathedral waiting for a congregation. There's no where I can be different from where I am now. Friends have their own time and I have mine. I spend too much of it alone. so my appetites for love are ravenous and no meal is enough. I guess I'm needy but calm too accepting. I'm so terribly lost in an emotional swamp. My head is just above the surface can you see the desperation and fear in my eyes? Goya painted his childhood dog in black. I have no freedom just the pursuit that forever eludes me. I am free to move in the prescribed patterns created by others more ignorant than myself. Love that swoons into the soft tiresome night of blanket blackouts. I was very serene and peaceful as I wrote this but I was and still am deeply sad or perhaps softly depressed: A deep pitch black night of velvet horrors. Seduction that snaps the neck with a slow and tender lover's caress. I accept the beggars demands by cutting their hands off and handing them back to them. At a price I am attained by thiefs. At a cost I am injected into the veins of the desperate. Vampires latch onto my neck and my skin crawls with revulsion. Jesus Christ's flesh is wrapped up in cellophane and sold for astonishing profits. The paralysis of desire's indecision. I anguish over a possibly flawed attempt at happiness to the extent that I will never even begin to attempt it. I live in a glass walled menagerie with traumatised animals. Tigers and giraffes pace the cells of gucci storefront prisons in Dubai. Our conditioning is mechanical and broken. Cruelty is beautiful for those who are guilty. We become victims out of a complicit passion for pleasing our tormentors. Lust sings softly sarcastic lyrics of dissociation and shocked serenity. Mouthfuls of choking verbosity vomited out like a scorching God being poured from the sun. She mouths silent psalms from her favourite criminals beyond laws totality. She eats paradox and crawls without limbs. Her Bandages are dirty and flies lay their children upon the staining rot. Smut has a colour. It stains...and it stinks too. I am hypnotised by the hypnotised and led by the blind to the back of sundays church queue. Holy church lovers drunk on naivety molest grace with perverted fingers. I severed the kindness of a cat by my unfeeling stony silence. A breeze block of emotional numbness. Regret is best served for a time that never waits. The menu says everything costs anorexia. Forgive me I have poisoned myself with thinking again. --
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
Fragments "Unto The Kingdom Of Perpetual Night" (15/08/2019)
Fragments "Learning To Drown" (12/08/2019)
Fragments "Lost But Not Known Yet" (08/08/2019)
Fragments "The Procreation Of Space" (05/08/2019)
Fragments "She Pulls Away The Fabric Of My Flesh" (02/08/2019)
Fragments "To Undo And In Undoing To Become" (01/08/2019)
Fragments "Falling Into Form" (01/08/2019)
Fragments "The Desire Of Ghosts" (01/08/2019)
Fragments "What Cannot Be Stolen" (31/07/2019)
- 2019 (6)
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