Monday, November 3, 2014

it's gonna reign

it's gonna reign
it's gonna pore
over thoughts, no control
it's whether
or not it might stop when undesirable

tidal waves, drizzles
or salty, salty oceans
egging on consumption
of these faulty, faulty potions

lonely motions

in dark tangles of seaweed
and you always thought dandelions were flowers

It's gonna rain.
It's gonna pour.
Over-thoughts, no control;
it's weather.
Or not. It only might stop when undesirable.
it's weather

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

shift

Candle fire tepid,
light it shines, a weapon.
Brink of brightness, breathless.

Soft, the warmth, it's gifted,
wishin' autumn distant.
Hush-ed hymns unhinge him.

Heavy-handed eyelids
beg to grasp the iris.
Sleep is stolen, silent

Thursday, August 28, 2014

Tuesdays

leaning on the grey side of a two-way mirror 

swimming through a pool of lime-flavored jello 


someone's clipping their fucking nails in the library

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Hollow Golems

Clay constructs,
lubricated, animated,
artificially aflame with life...
shrivel into a beige, dusty pursuit of re-saturation.


It's not tremors this time.

Voids fill,
they empty,
they empty, but you didn't miss out...
an arbitrary accomplishment?

This lethargic daze has become too comfortable.

Clay constructs,
arid, dormant,
they just need other clay constructs, really...
then they aren't that hollow.

Just a normal realization, I guess.

Friday, June 13, 2014

Rope

Some macabre waltz
freckles a dim den
with pestered remembrance.

A muffled sunset
struggles through dirty glass
onto an empty windowsill, aimless.

Trying to hold onto a fistful of water.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Develop

Silver snowflakes washing downward,
collecting on a now trivial granite effigy
like dust on a park bench
in a prop town.

Lilacs vine themselves like scars on the sculpture,
mocking the mockery it was drafted to be,
its crudeness now morphed
into a stoic pulchritude.

So vigilant, the inanimate rest.

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Cleared Out.


Cloud eater,
inhaling cumulus veils
in the sky, unmoored.

In clear blues, desperate,
sweepingly seeking
plenary repletion...

So in the gloom of it all,
will bring simple sunshine
at the cost of its nourishment.