Words of an Obscure Poet

I think I'm too old

For the old scenes

I am past going back

To the places of the past

Those marble-blue docks where

Grey clouds are still

Sticking and hanging around

Where hope once had died

And a stray, named "cut-throat

Bitch", was once knifed.

I know I'm so sick of the darkness

Hiding behind the sun.

When the sun awakes

It is the fool who sleeps

When the sun sleeps

It is the fool who dreams

“I like it, man!” cried the beams,

“Browning had the stupidest verse.”

His lines looked like streams.

Such a lovely curse!

Click, click.

YouTube makes us all sick

“This dude is the truth!”

Gasped an uncouth youth

And where’s the proof?

“His stocks burnt the roof.”

Yeah, he’s ‘real’ alright.

Never die in a losing fight.

Reality is the lone death of possibility

Every vacuum is another infinity.

Once or twice,

I flirted with the dice

And saw the fiend death

As it squinted its eye

Who said truth means

You never tell a lie?

All the images that once lied

Have now come to waking life.

All the words we never said

Are now the living truth

All the words that held

Our ears clogged and overdosed

Have turned us all obtuse

Now’s the chance to find a noose

Old and odd with a heavenly nod

We stand awaiting the next god

Cure me, obscure me with the

Haggard books longing for drowsy looks

Once or twice,

I kissed the wrong dice

And saw that wry twist of fate

A little far too late

Who said happiness means

A smile that doesn’t ever abate?

Even when tears run away

They come around another day

(Go! Snigger your oblivious fate

And ignite the flag of a happy state).

It’s, like spring, mild and kind

When we’re drugged far past blind

For we are the common slaves

Who never want to be told

That we are the common slaves

Yeah, I was wrong to dream

That I could pinch the clouds

(Painlessly, without a cry or scream)

With the tips of my fingers

Untangle the grass from my white beard

A clingy brown leaf has persevered

But even after it’s disappeared

Gone is the dignity I once revered

Down here in the bashful clutters

Where an ill mouse crawls and mutters

Down here in the insomniac gutters

Where a distraught bat nervously flutters

Save me, brave me, berate me

Or find the bitterness that ate me

Condense me, convince me that

Sense deluged confidence

On trite crumbs our souls feed

Wish I were a blissfully barren steed

Like a gaping scar that won’t bleed

The world humbles and I plead

“Love me, despise me, comprise me.”

It’s all been boring lately

It’s all been boring lately

And I can hardly fucking endure

The stench of cheap manure.

By A. Guy