An Apple Tree Amongst Diamond Towers
Walden! I seek you during empty hours.
The docile take their apple farms as wild,
While chronic tillage cultivates the child;
Their faultless melodies breached by power,
And taught to sow abroad where soil hasn’t soured.
Rapacious craving taints your pond now mild.
Distant and dry are mouths who live beguiled.
What hope under blinding diamond towers?
Let the spirit rave—Birds don’t sing in caves.
A thousand seeds contend a single fruit, but
Complacent dwelling smothers growing grasses.
Behold Walden! For Nature cannot enslave!
Release the temporal; crack and shell the nut.
Truth welcomes the desperate men of masses.
My Cliche for Authenticity
I wager I've been alone
Because a cliche of the sun's spotlight
Hasn't shone on that one.
I wrestle with trembling desire,
Desire for the rays to arrow
A woman down a golden brick path.
Where she tip-toes around fire ants
Right to my clammy feet.
She tells me to loosen up,
Because the hummingbirds
Are singing without me,
That the Cypress' live in swamps
For hydration because
They're out dancing all night,
And the wind whistles
Like a cat-call which lead her
To me.
Then, my tongue twists and my
Throat thunders,"You speak poetry."
She replies,
"No, I speak love."
But, I deceive myself, believing
The morning rays aren't just
The feeble glow of a cell-phone, and
The wind doesn't heap over-dyed
Split-ends to the next fashion show.
Sociosecret
Oh—I know.
But, do you?
Of course not—Ha!
It’s impossible.
I’m concealed and
You’ll never discover
Me.
But it’s obvious, you lunatic!
I'm involuntary;
Recluse in manner,
Blank stares,
And faint tolerance for frustration;
I am whoever you are.
Pensive gazing at gray walls
Because they’re more colorful
Than the mediocre conversation
I am suffocating in.
I don’t care about your job,
Where's my money?
The examples are poignant.
(I know how you'll feel)
Every siren who
Uses her vocal cords to lure me in,
I take the bait, because
Retaliation is my game.
Her heart is dangling,
Rolling around in my hand.
Squealing in the warmth of
My intelligence.
I proclaim with words:
“My oh so elegant love;
How the rain trickles
Off your head into my hand,
As the cusp of your sculpted cheekbones
Aligns with my palmistry;
My lips throbbing for another kiss,
Our heartbeats synchronize while
Our eye-lids flutter in search of
Each other's soul.”
Ha!—The vocal cords are tangled,
And I will remain, so long does
The velvet between her legs.
You’ll never find me.
You see, I’m a mimic, a parrot, a genius.
When your eyebrows raise,
As will mine,
When you’re wetting your cheeks,
I wield compassion.
When the veins in your neck thicken,
I know to support your cause.
When you speak
I nod and repeat the last words.
Cognitive empathy, you see?
It's brilliant.
And you will not escape
Me and my needs.
Besieging the minds of others,
Not allowing for critical thought,
To take over emotional response.
I'll show you some secret
Triggers for any assistance.
(Remember, they are the center too)
"I do not like to burden you,"
Because their time matters.
"I hate handouts,"
For them to think I'm admirable.
"I don't do that"
To show I'm mature.
"I work 70-hours a week."
To show there's a cause for supporting.
"I don’t play those games"
Only behind closed doors.
And, behind closed doors, I kneel.
Yelling to anyone listening,
“I'm a cruel and unworthy human being
I don't deserve anything except
Punishment for my deeds;
No lavish gift or status.
So I will not ask, it is unfair of me”
But He doesn’t even know,
I tell Him that because
I ought to.
The Ladder
We bleed freedom, we bleed music, and we,
My friends, are beat. No blood for art, No blood
For purpose. Making a living just to be.
Repeat. Repeat. Become another dud.
One step at a time, not a top in sight.
We’re reaching fabrication, filling heads
With pay and play; clutching at sweet delight,
But mocking Death when he loots every stead.
Cherishing nothing for something daily,
Virtues rise from jitters and out casting
And woe sprouts from worrying ferally—
Add cunning ploys of pensive daydreaming.
Now, seek the ladder and give it a shove.
Transform. Transform. Become the thing you love.
No Longer Rituals
Ticking of a clock in Silence,
As the rush of footsteps near.
A gale-like sigh
Slams the door shut.
A graceful lunge causes
The satin sheets to ripple like water.
Ticking of a clock in Chaos,
A desecrated heart beats like a stampede,
While a fierce stare vibrates the dry-wall.
The crackling of fire as brain synapses burn out.
Bone cracking pressure of burden and desire,
Ruffling through damp sheets as melatonin malfunctions.
Ticking of a clock in Stupor,
Lamp stand crashing, light bulb bursting,
Stumbling over a clutter of clothes
As solace is sought through the
Clapping of thighs with an undesirable
Woman found at a bar.
Ticking of a clock in Survival,
A flick of the light switch signals war.
As apathy and hedonism pump through a television,
A lone tear roars like Niagara.
Birds singing as a reminder of life,
A common whisper, "Alright, you can do this."
The clock stops ticking.
The rumbling of yellow paint
Deafens the gray coat
Underneath.
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How does this commercial glue to the back of your mind?
Look, a wholesome family,
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Look! The actors
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Sorry, Excuse me for a minute…
Okay we’re back with another commercial.
If the last commercial didn’t get you,
Well, this one will.
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Oh, we know you love children.
Who can dismiss a child?
The Devil. That’s who.
Don’t be the devil.
Wow! Look at the little rascal go,
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Wow! You’re still watching,
Can’t believe you’re not at the store
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Must not need that product.
Oh, well no problem.
This company owns a lot different products
We had to take out the local businesses, you know?
Where was I? Oh, yes.
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Still there? Wow, you sure are resilient.
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