– Shichigoro Shingo
A sign of friendship,
a dose of humanity.
Machine innocence.
–
Sorry for the brevity stressful day!
Wordle #294
A grinning shell of a man,
a slack-jointed vagabond
extends his hands
in mimicry of cheer.
I was happy once,
still am mostly
that’s the thing about
these overcast days
they give way in time.
–
A fugue of a woman,
a line of bent stars on her wrist
looks down the length of a leather strap.
Venting is one thing but hatred is another.
I’ve seen more faces than I can count,
same man different seasons.
Lies create their own realities.
–
A sun-weathered man,
a proud, strait-backed farmer
grips the handle of his shovel.
You have to trim away the excess
otherwise there’s no room for growth.
That’s the paradox of modernity
we have everything we could ever need
and we still live beyond our means.
–
A single woman,
a book-bargaining teacher
draws her name on the blackboard.
Talent isn’t god-given its achieved.
You can’t undo mistakes with nostalgia.
The mind is full of fractures and snares,
live forcefully as the heart decrees.
Wordle #127
Spirits in miniature,
Peery-eyed and robust
These are the unknowns,
That which lives
But does not merit.
These are the gods of
Machination and manufacture,
Seamless specters
Cradling human flesh.
–
Sentience implies secrets.
We are haunted,
Apples in a quantum riot.
A fetid core harvested
By ingenuity,
A barely palatable whisper
Thrust into a flaccid rind.
–
The rule of threes
Governs our misfortunes.
Stories convene,
A rash of clues erupt
From the creases
Of an intrinsic exile.
We are golems
In a system
That recycles
And degrades us
-.
A collective human musk
Claws its way to the surface,
Broken toys, skin-chasers.
The real revolutionaries
Bide in the fringe.
Our antagonism only
Minimizes our stature
Humanity is a condition of guilt,
A disavowal of instinct
We are enslaved to conjunctions,
To monosyllabic judgments
That mimic and gripe.
*
This is mostly nonsense I am well aware because I decided to write my thoughts when in a mental stupor. Anyhow I was thinking about bacteria and mushi (primitive ubiquitous creatures with supernatural powers that we can’t see). I was thinking what if humans are just tools? What if our thoughts are actually the cumulative thoughts of all those little nothings that exist inside of us? Without bacteria nothing would exist, so I thought what if they are gods, what if they are significant and we are by comparison a no-thing? No drugs were involved in the production of this poem lol I am exhausted and felt like going with the madness.
Wordle #166
A penny prays in the gutter
But not even the tarot will answer
Without an exchange of commodities
Or salacious fluids and a penny is nothing
If not followed by a more persuasive sum.
–
The copper of your overturned kiss
Dances through my blood, a plague,
A gyration in the dreadful stillness
Of my once gun-wielding heart.
I could love you, levitating, lubricating
A single touch to ease an intrinsic slaughter.
–
Seduction through the application
Of feverish hands lacks finesse but in a pinch
Anyone will do and I’ve a creature inside of me
That demands the darkness inside of you.
Wordle 200
Hopelessness keeps
One delicate and chained.
Suffer me in sympathy
I can endure the knife
But the noose leaves me
Turbulent and estranged.
–
However, tiny the pathogen
Dissemination is inevitable.
I lift the cherries from your tongue
The knots are unassailable
The clandestine pit
The fleshy medulla
Juices that rupture
Into my absences
A one man everything.
–
The uncut river rips
My heart from its perch
A canary thrust beak first
And wasting into the mines.
My fingers flex against the currents
Scalpels searing invisible flesh.
I hook transmutables
In the arch of my palms
Pushing and tumbling
Along a course that overtakes itself.
–
I fold over myself like petals
Burying a beloved stamen.
A time capsule untempered.
My lungs wrestle the tide
Like an umbrella hassled in tempest
There’s no escaping my post
My awkward humanity
You take me in, one gulp at a time.
–
I did 201 but I think I want to work on it some more (I should probably give these poems names). Is my blog behaving normally? Posts showing up everyday on Reader? Has WordPress been experiencing any problems? On another note I am working on my 2nd book and I am quite excited about it XD
For
HEEDING HAIKU WITH HA: TO DERIVE INSPIRATION FROM POETRY # 1
Graska Paulska
By whose might do we
Resolve that the only life
Of worth is human?
Zipper
If I were a planet
I’d have a hollow core
Crepuscular in odyssey
I’d drift aimlessly
Ricocheting against
Invisible labyrinths
No matter how
Fastidious the design
Fate always bends
Toward entropy
*
If I were a landscape
I’d have a muddied surface
From hoards of unshod feet
Trampling my potential
Into self-serving affectations
Impatience and convenience
Always trump conservation
*
If I were a house
I’d be uninhabited
Save for death
Which preys
Even as it sows
Transience being
Indiscriminate
In its undertaking
*
If I were a man
Praise would not terminate
My sense of omission
I’d hunt egregiously
From stolen parcels
And assign contrast
I am good
Therefore,
Other is bad
Accountable
Hypocrisy
Imbeds itself
In the gum line
In the arch
Of a righteously
Defined palate
In the pockets
Of covetous cheeks
In the curve
Of a discriminating
Tongue
In the crevices
That alienate
Vicious canines
From their pacifistic
Neighbors
*
To speak
Of human folly
Is to speak
Of disregard
It is not
Intention alone
That shapes
A society
*
Do you live
Your ideals
Or do you slumber
Inside of a more
Hospitable
Delusion?
Fame
Art by: Bruno Wagner
Copper coins dance
Inside her irises,
A gyroscope
Spinning infidelities,
Pieces of self soaked
In rice wine vinegar,
Pieces of self bloated
And hemorrhaging
Stacked haphazardly
Into the pixels
Of an electroluminescent
Alter ego
*
She is a myth
That no one seeks
To translate
A forgery
That when disclosed
Would unmask
The world
*
A cavernous heart
Seeking regard
Reveals only
That which appalls
Infamy
Has a longer shelf life
Than virtue
She is a mirror
Of humanities
Unclaimed beliefs
*
Youth fears inversion
The wisdom that quiets
Impulse
The burden
Of moral acquisition
And poetic cohabitation
She is a heroine
Immodestly dressed
A villain
Recycled in tabloids
*
She fears the concavity
Of those sinuous curves
Which sulk
And in lamentation
Cease
The seething inertia
Of a smug defeat
She fears sleep
For the public
Forgets
So quickly
The muse
Under which
They dream
*
She is the summit
A delusion of grandeur
Reinforced
By a vociferous audience
The media is cannibalistic
She’ll be consumed
By her fame
By the loneliness bred
In its shadows
She is not herself
Unlovable
A covetous Ego
Alters the gravity
Of her soul
She is
Earth and sky
Fathomless
And
Peerless
mindlovemisery 