Spoken

Spoken words,
Poetry,
Define the limits of my
Almost never be-s.
Sink nor swim.
I’ll keep on writing
And become who I’ve never seen,
Because I trail on,
Within the working hours of 1st shift,
And I sing songs,
But never aloud for the crowds to listen.
Sometimes I think
That my words have had meaning.
While other times I feel contradictive,
As if this poem was more than concealing.

I have spoken words
And i have dreams,
Though that’s more absurd
Than getting the feel for things.
I scramble in my quest to mix verbs.
I move on but all I know is that I need work.
So I stride and try to abide by the rules
But I dislike the alphabetical torture.

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Needs

Take a moment,
Oh please just take your time.
While I stand idle
And let you guide my unnatural lines.
My eyes aren’t what they seem.
They haven’t been in quite some time,
But I dream and hope for
Times of lessened lies.
I wobble, I weave
And sometimes, Oh sometimes
I stumble in between.
I ponder the notions
That the “I’s” are just shattered dreams.
I’m met with realization,
A parabola inconsequential
To my recreational needs
And though I’m problematic
The sound of sunder is my feed.
I am, therefore I think
But I think I’m running from who I am…

Drowning

Most people get better
The more that they write and
Maybe it’s just me but
I feel just the opposite,
That my words are hindrance
Wrapped up in garbage,
A suit of self pity
Marked by my heartless
And emptiest thoughts. I
Feel like I’m drowning.

I’m starting to drown and
I don’t know how I will
Make it out alive, still
My lungs are filling with
The surrounding nature
That things will get better,
But yet I am gasping,
Lying down and trying
To make it out alive and
They’re trying to drown me.

How do I turn this around?
Now that I’ve said words that
I cannot renounce and
I just want to know how to
Make this dream better, so
I keep on pretending, that
I know what I’m doing but
I feel my lungs are filling, and
I’m starting to notice how
I feel like I’m drowning.

I’m starting to drown and
I don’t know how I will
Make it out alive, still
My lungs are filling with
The surrounding nature
That things will get better,
But yet I am gasping,
Lying down and trying
To make it out alive and
They’re trying to drown me.

To Learn Again

One cannot learn
Unless encompassed by failure.
Regret only take turns
When establishing your grandeur.
Possibilities take flight
As the days cycle, past to future.
Given the moments in sight
You’ve taken all that you can squander.
Not for you, I, or the many bit of visitors
But for the me, my needs, and all of my listeners.

Take place while I’ll take hold.
Establish my grace as I begin to grow old.
I tick, I tock, my path begins it’s pace.
I begin to remember the moments that had never taken place.

A Million people/catastrophe

Suicidal tendencies
Cascade deep in the thought of me.
They trickle in for a little bit
Then consume my dome like catastrophe.
I’ve been developing tastes like this
Walking through a razors field of casualty
But not for me
And my breath,
The taste of blood in my mouth
Keeps me guessing my insanity.
When planets collide do I coincide
To separate my mind’s heart
Into a divided state of another galaxy?
Like, pardon me, fate has escaped
And it’s steering towards rhapsody.
But I’m too focused on my broken voice.
Scratchy and displaced
I’m losing myself to another me!

A million people just like you
Feel as lonely on this night
As myself does next to you.
A million people in this city
And my heart, my eyes,
Feels about just as heavy.
A shoulders burden,
This weight I bear, takes a toll
On my shameful stare.
Eyes wired shut, I feel too much.
Contemplating freedom
With a cold metallic touch.
I can’t do this,
A million people scream, but,
I know your lonely too
So at least I know that I’m not alone.

Woken, broken and I can’t take much more.
This is the face of unevenness
Whether or not the ends of my mouth
Are pointed opposite of the floor.
Like it matters, my floor is a door
To the unbound universe.
Focused but relaxed I focus on the moment
That I begin to take my final breath.
Righteously I’m trying to be
A man in hand that puts those thoughts to death.
A cerebral cremation of patience
That could be the creation of my new haven.
A world just and inhabited by the best of me.
Circulation of circumstances,

These thoughts
Just won’t be breached.
They can’t be breached.
Please, oh please
Just let me be.

A million people just like you
Feel as lonely on this night
As myself does next to you.
A million people in this city
And my heart, my eyes,
Feels about just as heavy.
A shoulders burden,
This weight I bear, takes a toll
On my shameful stare.
Eyes wired shut, I feel too much.
Contemplating freedom
With a cold metallic touch.
I can’t do this,
A million people scream, but,
I know your lonely too
So at least I know that I’m not alone.

Goodbye

Hey there.

I’m sitting on my couch trying to write a poem that’s stand alone, Earth shatteringly great as it claims the tone of stone. My head is a mess, it’s never sorted right, and I’m thinking that I’m losing my touch when it comes to stacking and rhyming. Who am I to say that I ever had a touch to begin with?

“Earths fucked up, it’s time we unfuck it” were the last words stuck in my head. Lethal is the dose of verbosity that I’m retaining in the back of my mind. I’m no Aes but a man can dream. I think of how my tatse in music has drastically changed.

I’m no artist.

Moments build anxiety but I’m barely excitable. The Sun is blocked by the greyest of blue skies and the green array of arrows pointing towards the atmosphere glow ever brighter even without the soul of Sol. I don’t need to make sense, my rent is paid.

I lack subtlety.

I lack the nerve to turn my life around and to accomplish the things that I’ve always dreamt about. Perhaps that’s why they are considered dreams. You wake up to realize that you can’t make the jump because vertigo is an everlasting Bitch.

I want to live for nothing.

I now understand the term “life is what you make it” because life has zero meaning and you’re only fulfilled with the things you’ve done if you don’t harbor regret on how you have lived. You have successfully lived your life to the fullest because fullest is a definition defined by yourself, and no one else.

Don’t give up that easily,

Because if I’m still here after living a life soaked in depression and insanity then there’s no reason to cease existence, unless you’re worse off than I. For that, I apologize. I’m sorry if I’m so self absorbed to assume that my life is the hardest in this planetary plane of existence, because it’s not and neither is yours.

Say goodbye.

Leave The Love

Leave the love

And I’ll begin to think otherwise.

Feel my shrugs

As I take the moment to realign.

I hope to bear

The artistry of a life forgotten,

But don’t build me up

Just to leave me here with nothing.

Little breathes

Tend to get me through the day.

Once I pass out

I’ll be left with such little phrase.

Days await

Just like the rhymes in my brain

But please,

Oh please

Don’t say

That

“Love awaits”.