Acting, unsatisfied. Static, over time. Am I alright? Everyone expires, I reply. As a traffic light, I stop and bathe in red. Still, I'm hanging tight, Still, I lag behind, Final, panting sighs: Fine, then, pass me by. I'd rather be alive than dead... Stand aside? I'll walk as you run one last mile, Even if it's by myself... Why do dusty, static people seem to find me? Am I the twilight in which it shines? Red, Satanic light. Active, social life, Better inside architecture, or the mind. But, then, Wherefore does magic lie? Somewhere before the asking price.
When does Autumn become most cold? Just before it leaves, something more on the way to change the world. I am the minotaur, Harvester of stone, Holder of an axe of war, Pauperism, growth. Problems in the code, Problems with the board, It matters not, I guard the door.
Rose gold chrome horns, Like cardboard clothes, Cold, associates sorrow, Unworn, uneven tomorrow. So bow your head forward, Lift yourself up, divide me whole. I stand naked before you, Like I play with hands both, Like I tap, dance, as a show, I do for all you know, I suppose. Upon her form, both hands, Avacado toast, buttery bread, Guitar solo overtop the prose, Alcohol in her mouth, floor, Softcore porn, popcorn snow, Relationships in rondo form. I just wish I knew something more.
I wish I had just spawned in, Forget what I saw before death. In the end, I'm done with fights, Aquamarine, unto the skies. Blue after, and until midnight. I have between Ral, Tal, About what is right. God of the Sun, In the end. For you, insight. Racoons, fire, Costumes, liars. In the end, Just to win like them. I just want, to feel whole again, Like I had one hundred lives, Blue painted wall, sofa bed.
What was I to be? A hive of bees? I see. Time; clouds. Sky; crowns. Cries, foul: "I'm tied down." She said as I vied for relief. Time, dreams, Lies, deceit, "I'm drowning". Pleas, Screams of an ice house, Before it lies in the deep. Now... What am I to be? Composer of songs, Giver of feelings? What is high to a beast? Fire, disease. What is mine. Like piles at the keep, Rivals final meetings, Some spend life on things. I, much like a beast, Divide things in half, Decide, with a hand, rights to be. So, What was I to be? Probably nothing. Feeding my cows, starving, Alike to the sea. Some sing in the choir, Some sit in the seats. Some write, despite reason, Until, like an ice house, They find reasons to leave.
An explosion, two million boats, Less than a third vote. 'oh, the problem, is they lack common goals" The rest boast, but it was about the same before. The belly distends, the body groans, Inside you would hope the innards grow, But they don't. Their parents croak, clear the bones, Inside you would hope for inner growth, But instead they find more civil wars, Complain of the guy next door, To the grocery store, government and local media, Instead of getting to know.
to stop what you are doing and beg in a different way than before for a chance to change; to cause a beginning, a genesis to start anew in a parallel version of your life where you have finally shaken off the slumber, opened your eyes to start a new journey but can it truly be a blank slate if the dust from the eraser still chokes the air?
We are stories Ideas Tales of us were told Long before we were We are stories Ghosts wandering 'n minds Tales of us passed on Long after we were We are alone Together In sadness, in joy: we become human We don't exist We're nothingness Unless we share Unless we're two or more
Feet scurry for cheese, Hurry before reading, No need for heeding, Just release then meaning. A fella down, dread, and doubt, I prefer to be the second mouse, Rather than become death, I prefer to see it out.
“Don’t let me down”, now that’s a foolish way of thinking Response of confirmation, actions not in agreement Not very much Redeeming Like Pandora’s box you’re seeming Like bullets to the chest, I’m barely breathing Confused and in distress, was I deceived? and Was I deceiving? Were you mistaken by my distance and a lack of trust was formed Or was my token of your trust misplaced in your corrupted life form? Are you a demon? But you weren’t demeaning. You boost me up, Above the ceiling was my love Like, not love, allow me to clarify Was different, real connection But anything more than that I inform you, I deny And now I cry Mine, your were not but all of you was with me Or maybe me with you, that’s where I get confused Mistaken thinking Time, as more comes, you will fade At least that what my research say But I swear to god, my image of you gets imprinted on me more and more as I survive the day Leave me alone I don’t want you here to stay Memories in my bone Fractured when I lay Fractured when I wake Fractured me in my waist Oh what a waste A waste of my fight when all I care to take is flight All I care is me and you changed that habit Is that what lies are like? Is the purpose damage? If so you succeed because I’m more than done I’ve lost my sun Although it’s reflection on the moon is a pretty replica You set me up Trojan horse You lift me up And when things got good you sat me down Let me frown Although I hide, that feelings sound That feelings loud Those thoughts clear These eyes hold tears Those drops aren’t mild Neither were my fears So clear Ill steer for now Others won’t be allowed My voice won’t speak aloud Not truth nor words of deep Only traps for the weak, ones I couldn’t put out They were from your slope Your dope became my cloud I guess it’s, both, hello and goodbye for now. If only I knew before, how much you’d let me down.
The time has come to pass. The hours sound the chime. How do you write such pleasing words that our time has come to rhyme? The smiles that show your heart. The eyes that calm the sea. How do you find the time to love all of the things that rhyme with me? And just like me your bird is free to spread your wings and learn to fly. What is the cause that makes you flee each time that life comes passing by? We are just a plan that life is making. The first romance that’s ours to share. The time has come to rhyme what matters, within the heart that bleeds despair. Come to me now and follow my dreams that uncover the pieces born of the past. The time has come near to make a new change, and untether the slave you have held in your grasp. With each moment I write I am thinking of you. And every word that I rhyme you are near. It is my hope to rekindle a time we once knew, before the heart of true love disappears. Michael 7/10/2021
Lady Luck please don't let me down, I got three more months till I leave this desert town Here I sit up on my post keepin the wolves at bay They may think their top dog here, but now they are my prey. Lady Luck please don't let me down, You've got me this far, two months till I leave this ol shantytown Here I walk on the prowl for snakes down before me. With each step I take I clear the ground behind me. Lady Luck please don't let me down, Just one more month til I see my ol home town. Here now I fly high so I can look for danger up ahead. My badge of courage now soaked red, Lady Luck why'd you let me down, Now I lay six feet underground.
The creaking of the pines elicits icy shivers, like steel fingers raked upon a naked spine, pine needles quivering like jagged splinters jabbed into desperate thirsty veins Slivers of pain, slices of sorrow, glimpsed through the gaping cracks between the bark, as stark winds whisper then wail weaving twisted tales of ennui and despair Oh, the horrors they have seen while the sun giggles and gleams from her corner of the forest peering from her perch amid the heavens, her cackles seep into the earth to settle among the dirt and the decay As the emerald canopy leads the lost souls astray through the labyrinth of decomposing leaves, corpses cast off from the trees, disrobing before the fastidious eyes of their maker, undertakers laying out their palls for the weak and broken to bear
holding the box between two fingers so it does not fall the hand is not pandora’s; she has been dead for centuries inside the lid, an amateur’s attempt at a cumulonimbus the sky behind them greener than the clouds before a tornado the clouds themselves whiter than the dust after what will become of the box? will it house bangles and bracelets and small forgotten memories? will the hinges rust and the sky become separated from the ground? will it ever find its way home?
Obsessions What power you hold over me... Every action, every thought Is just a push in your direction Feeding into the obsessions, Lost connections, misdirections, Absolutely positively coerced into these affections By a brain constantly seeking tiny moments of perfection. Though you kind of must admire this curation of adoration, All the mental efforts required to keep up the constant cultivation Of this undisturbed fixation, The impropriety and distraction of a single-minded meditation, All these mind-numbing, pacing, clock-like rotations Theoretically leading this obsessive mind to pure elation, The uninhibited fruits of this persistent dedication. Happy sighs and exhalations... But then... The sobering realization That somehow life existed before this shrine’s erection And perhaps the cracks start to show, Unexpected but apparent imperfections, Initially denied and resolutely rejected, The shattered shards of a crystal ball that disagrees with my projections, The deflation, depletion, extortion Of my vexation, Maybe leading to complete and utter exoneration... The disintegration of my fascination. Maybe someday... But for now I prefer to float in my comforting contemplations, Giving in to the infatuation, These happy delusions of my mind’s incarceration. And if the worst this should cause is These false exhilarations, Then I shall stay here for a while And enjoy the scintillating sensations Of my obsessive ruminations. A Temporary Salvation.
these are the golden years, the golden day, she says like the sunrise or the sunset? i say both. or neither. she says do you miss it? she says your youth, i mean. i know. i miss it. i am still young. it has been torn from my chest and weighs on my hips and i miss it. i say how was your birthday? she says better than before, i say. before what? the moment it became my birthday. were you gifted anything? she says on which birthday? i say all of them. or none. she says do you think we could preserve this moment, cast it in gold or bronze or iron? she says no. who said that? i pick up the mirror and drag it home. ten, nineteen, two thousand and one.
Another day Before Another time We cry Sailing across My dreams Day of reckon We dare
Throw back the covers on the incessant redundancy of another day. Putting in time for a world we no longer believe in, if ever we truly did. ...Them rose-tinted glasses were long-ago shattered... Our dedication repaid With more stolen hours Coming home with less time To spend with ourselves, Or perhaps those we purposely surround ourselves with, Than we’ll spend talking to ceiling tiles in the dark later on. Droning away the limited hours, The constant pull of a thumb , —Refreshing— Giving our ❤️s away In an opinionated match game Finger-fucking ourselves to sleep Just to say we felt alive Before succumbing to darkness With a see-you-later sayonara Whispered into black, Just like the onyx air pixels we’ll be counting later to lure heavy eyelids back into a much-too-finite slumber ...Or maybe the fluffy white bastards will do the trick Whatever helps you sleep at night... Next day, the inbox the same, Full of spam mail we unsubscribed to ages ago That somehow keeps rearing ugly heads, hydra-like with a pretty new name every time, to keep us believing in the possibility that this particular lovesick prince will be our salvation. DELETE to clear our foggy heads While trying to remember which ones are the liars. The mirage keeps on shifting. Repeat, repeat, World keeps on turning, pulling us along, A child’s toy on a string. But what if, for a moment, We turn away from from the unending axial spins, Sidestep the scythe again, seek out the sunrise... Find the beauty brave souls! Crack open that Earth-shaped geode and search out the wild world within And you know what... Go buy you a new pair of those pretty pink shades