Monsters and Beasts

Monsters and beasts,
Oh you pretty angel!,
A nightmare to dream your kisses crack,
I stare at your tweaking wings as they expose your back,
Bowed at strangle angels,
Like a trained reef…

Oh how my eyes promise each other to never close,
To never break glare,
No never dishonor what your beauty shows,
Something that most would not dare–
To express,
Modesty,
On your chest…
With your hair…

Oh your switching side!,
Promises break along with my eyes,
Again, again, reprise,
Not showing of how heaven died,
The white wings detach…
I believed you fact,
But,
I,
Accept,
The human flaws,
The human acts,
That shows me exactly.

Oh my beautiful beast…!

Conveyor

I am standing still,

As the people fly East,
I am staring left,

There is complete silence, peace,

I am not only deaf,

But chilled,

By their gusts,

They are holding hands,

My fall from the current–

Was just right, I am now without time,

Bovine breezes kept me behind,

I look upward and choose to be blind…

I can no longer stand…while goes eyesight and space,

I cannot accept my slowing pace.

I know the days are moving, I can feel them,

Even though I forget the heat of the rising sun,

There were smiles…I remember smiles,

There were miles of flying folk,

They embraced each other and looked toward the next second, and never spoke,

A conveyor belt that never broke,

They never fell, they never dropped,

Dropped, Dropped, Dropped,

I am standing still,

As people fly East,

I am staring left, there is complete silence…peace?

Famine

An addiction,

I know about her,

My stomach turns–

Sideways into a mixture of admiration and cravings,

I am hungry, fever and famine.

I want a hit of her bitter white powder,

but I can’t cut her,

A bleeding nose,

Bleeding ink…bleeding prose…

Blessings and woes…

My chance at addiction,

Lies with her,

I cannot wait for her to occur,

Simply because of today’s conviction,

Another day sober, tomorrow’s affliction.

Missing Pieces

We all have our missing pieces,

Elsewhere before we rest,

A repining second gives no comfort,

Repenting hearts digress, they search.

I am knowing of my pursuits, not bellicose,

She is not too close…

It is my right to rid my success of failure’s ghosts,

I am choked—

By the past I once wrote,

To know that she is knew,

And an ear for the untrue,

She remains…in time, alone.

She, still remains, my missing piece,

My missing peace,

My missing breath,

I’m listening deaf,

To a success story told,

From her eyes of glass and tongue of cold,

Gold…hair, brown eyes,

Still voice, unties—

Knots in the womb.

Tomorrow’s

Let her be tomorrow’s problem,

The impetus behind the crashing fists to walls,

Little blotches of blood,

She cannot live today.

A spell bewitching the vigilant eye,

A weight stalling the wrecking wrists,

Turbulent emotions be held, in loving arms,

She cannot die today.

A tear cannot justify my cause of contempt—

For, with, her,

A scream cannot deafen the hearing heart,

Her active silence cannot force words unsaid,

Her undoing is simple chaos trapped inside a bitty body,

Yesterday’s love, today’s hate, tomorrow’s problem.

Onward

I cannot feel the sun,

What be of simple warmth?

From the cores of our existences,

On earth and with heart, with chest,

We wished once of stability in chaos and peace in unrest,

We trained to conquer the brittle minds of our mutual adversary,

The cold.

Only in one man, boy, in soul,

An obstructive subordinate goal,

It was, we were in one accord,

I placed the plan,

You tilted your head, my hand,

To tell me…that you could understand,

Terms of peace, with rancor first,

Methods of mental increase, it could never get worse,

The frost bitten fingers of a devil,

Poked the open wounds,

Poked the open wounds,

The fingers of a devil did,

The mind of a devil slid,

Of slopes of cognitive constructs created by us,

A relationship built on healthy dependence and whole hearted trust.

There is no more February,

We can create now nothing,

You go along,

I stay here,

You go along,

And…I stay here,

You conquest toward the summer’s gust,

As you remise, in edicts of words, cuss,

Toward the frozen wind of your new summer…

I cannot see the sun,

I cannot be, for I have come undone,

I cannot be,

I cannot be,

In peace with me, nor you,

You know, knew,

What to do…in times of distressing unrest,

The weight of your thoughts still lay on my broken chest,

Until tomorrow! I scream, a better day,

A better way…to fight the cold,

Its toll…may be a bit much to bare,

You leave me to conquest to nowhere.

Nostalgia

 

The different molds of folk,

To which purpose is to deject,

To affect.

 

The different types of persons,

To which purpose is to worsen,

To affect.

 

The different types to one person,

The one that keeps you first in—

Their souls, in their minds,

To which affection aids the incline,

To which depression aids the decline,
To which smiles remind—

You of a happier time,

Where others did not exist,

Where we were two light disks,

Floating above the exosphere,

Kissing skies and jabbing fears,

A time where destination seemed clear,

She did occur, in great numbers,

In great quality,

In best quality possibly—

She would be,

The one type of too her many for me,

She would wear the face of amassment in times of lament,

Inside my hallow walls, where her time be spent,

Where apologizes aplenty, she would always repent,

For my childish gestures,

She be alleviation to pressures,

Of simply life, of simply strife,

She would be the dream in my nightmare,

The rest in my sleep,

She knew where, and when to keep,

Me close…

Me first,

Now that those times have passed, this time is worse.

 

I fall into reality staring upward into my past,

From first emotion first, from last feeling last,

Staring upward into my past,

Staring upward into my past,

I do,

The infinity turns white from blue,

Then red from white,

A mixture of hopes and mights,

Or solid days and shattered nights,

I slam into the ground, broken bone, broken back,

A wide faction of numbness exact,

I am finally fine.