Essence

poetry

When considering the final conclusion
The closing stages of a blaze soon to be extinguished
Embers glowing their brightest before at last they fade
Heartbeats ebbing to an even rhythm amidst the hearth
Radiating undulations and ashen remembrances
Furrowing to heights unknown
Trembling to hushed rest unseen
After everything the trajectory revealed
Cremated powder remnants
Charred and stained against time
But the legacy of its warmth still burning
More brilliantly than ever before

The Wants of the Many Outweigh…

poetry

He really knows how to bring a room
down
and he really knows how to keep things form
swinging
And every damn time someone turns on the
lights
there’s a shot from the basement saying (somebody’s)
“sleeping”

But be that
as it
may,
one’s usually not in
the business of keeping
a good thing
quiet.

So
Shut the fuck up
already.

Forgiveness and Arithmetic

poetry

Seventy times seven
Equals four-hundred and ninety.
The worries me.
I’m quite convinced I’ll screw up
More than (if I haven’t already)
The square root of
22.13594362117865
And when I do,
Then what happens?
If I did wrong every day
For one year,
Four months and three days
Would I no longer be forgiven?
If 240,100 divided by 490
Is still four-hundred and ninety,
I’d only have one last chance
To never mess up again.
But fortunately,
Forgiveness is beyond numbers.
And so are you.
It’s times like these
I realize how lucky I am
To have a savior.

the fury

poetry

i didn’t crash the car
last night with the 3 dollar
bottle of wine
and the worst part about that
is that i don’t want to
anymore
i didn’t walk past the
line we drew in the sand
last night
and the worst part about that
is just how bad i
wanted to
i didn’t kill anything
ever, not even a cloud
last night
and the worst part about
that is that i don’t
want to anymore
i said the worst part
about that is just how
bad i wanted to.

AUTOMOTIVE

poetry

There are times when you
feel like you need fluids
and you know you’re due for
new tread, and it wouldn’t
really hurt to maybe
flush the systems, when you
can sit back and think:
“this must be what my car feels like’

you can literally feel

poetry

i move mountains in my head
with giant engines running lean
when i am on bottom i am surely
truly on top,
and that stands backwards, too.
i see the white brick walls
growing around this apartment
complex as we speak,
and when it comes to take you
if you let it,
it will,
and there you will be.

there are men waiting just outside
of this door who want me to
slave under them,
put myself in front of bullets,
why i might do it to stave the
advancement of these white brick
walls still growing around
this apartment complex as i
write this.
it is proven that i am to plug in
sign up
log on
and put these engines towards
social and human progress,
nevermind the definition of progress.

phd,
ba,
manager,
associate,
how high can you jump?
how quickly can you do it
when commanded?
when i am on bottom, i am surely
on top,
and that works backwards too,
i think.

luncheon with mr. pig

poetry

i sit at a luncheon with mr. pig,
there are mannequins across the street
whose silence is very, very loud
they all ask me:
“what are you doing for employment”
“no no, i am dreaming”
“what do you do for fun?”
“well it comes at forty bucks,
and then it’s gone”
just at this very moment
at that very second
a shot of red danced around
from the left of my left eye
to the right of my right eye
and i said “who was that?”
and they said
“why do you ask so many questions?”

Reflections on Pop Music Lyrics

poetry

If you were a rich girl
If you had all the money in the world
If you were a wealthy girl

The money wouldn’t be an applicable currency
So if you had all the money in the world
If wouldn’t be worth anything

Which means you wouldn’t be a rich girl
No men would test you, nor try to impress you
And your cash flow would never begin

If you had all the money in the world
You’d be a destitute girl
Aside from an enormous collection of paper
Na na na na na na na na na na na (x3)