loatheCurious, how he ages past his originsloathe by thetaoofchaos
a rage unfurrowed by the planet's touch
by the girl who held him like a furnace bides the coals
by the women who survive him as a coat of arms
by the man whose imperative is sowing seeds in space
on the mind within the mind where ancient troubles fall on lips
and regrets' subdermal cultivation
in the bodice of his erroneous twin
bloom in these terrific wires
‘till they turn up into the skin;
recalcitrant sores of a leper god
see them worship and abhor!
What tribe, these scars
dark medicine art
and who will bear his animus
when now he's old and new again?
caesuraToday, impermanence is 5 weeks of raincaesura by thetaoofchaos
and pine limbs spindling clear above the house
and things I’ve left underground:
a cavity in the storm
a stark white coat.
How do we perish yet
still lounge eminently
sharpening the catalpa
pacing the gutters
in our wanton monotone?
My jealous imperia do not ruin.
Innocence is never lost.
It grows back like phantom vertebrae
and rebuilds the animal.
the lessonFollowing the last communiquethe lesson by thetaoofchaos
of any order
we'll not find a posteriori death
no grand apocalypse
carried off in bits by ants
or hurtling beside us
like dark matter twins
nestled in our bullet blue capsules
fighting us for singular dimension.
Under stones, behind the clouds
sleeping in fire, circling in bodies
we'll turn over nothing in nothing
that doesn't lead the way to these:
of my judas tree;
it's already happenedit's already happened by thetaoofchaos
how long will i prop up this poisoned messiah,
squeeze false atmosphere
from these heavy lungs?
i want to get up
drive one thousand miles
to the cauldron's teaming lip
and perform last rites by the roadside.
i see myself
as a diver
hurtling faster than your voice
from this dimension of accidents.
if i am an interruption in the blessedness,
a scarry mandala
in a blunder of motion,
if i am (to be) a curse
that hangs from your sternum spike
then i will grant you
ad libitum momentumad libitum by Lottie-Girl
back and forth
UnraveledOn a Sunday morning,Unraveled by nonamepsalmist
forced to reconcile my body's
form with it's function
(never had I to consider it in these ways)
I ate two offensively pink pills-
dainty as they were colossal.
I conceived of this, you know.
I even gave it a name-
born of a white decision on this,
You double-knot your shoe laces.
NothingTurn your stubby pencil upside downNothing by fartprincess
rub away the markings scrawled around.
Somebody's sagacious something
becomes nobody's nihilistic nothing.
Living like a lull,
a swept-away secret,
a flaming fissure in a fragment,
damned and dismissed,
a coquettish chaos
in my head.
Bald tiresskidding over hard ice chapped pavement steering without handsBald tires by Blessfullyshocked
on a Friday night and the only lights I see are blue and red,
not a blazing white claiming my hand like I'd expected.
Not something beautiful, just something cruelly memorizing
that somehow belonged to me at that moment.
flashing lights and black clothed arms pulling me through the ragged
metal which grasped at my body like a heaving mother with a dead child.
Ignorantly tearing at my already broken frame as if it would somehow
pull my body back together wits and skin somehow intact again.
the blood on the ground can't all be mine can it? And she didn't
go through the window did she? Why must I wake for just enough
time to experience what I created? Is it just to make my fate
feel deserved or to rapture what there was left to this shell.
I can't stay in a place where nothing is cleansed or shaken out
or even considered a mistake just a common expression of someone
unworthy. Someone like me.
a face wit
Husk And Raw LipsThe years will cough with grime...Husk And Raw Lips by Skyorphan
And your face in its beauty will remain.
You will remain.
Lips like subtle beaks.
All of them.
The rough pores of your skin.
The raw human-colour
of your lips.
Your soft hair,
covering the belly.
the colour of beaten husk.
but slipped into the ear.
as if on cue.
Malignant with a shudder.
The neck bent and broken
Into the breast of a lover.
In the center of the almond skin,
blowing soft anger
on the texture of her rib.
Intersecting your heart and meridians
into the sheets.
Into the muscle of the afternoon.
When summer yawns
lids of light
into your thigh
The backs of my knees
with barren warmth.
And salt erupts
under my soles.
from the sinews
I will hold you here
sexual and breathing.
The Things I Want to BelieveAn old man plays the violin outside because music is for everyoneThe Things I Want to Believe by fadingreverie
The coins you throw in the open case are merely for his collection
The graffiti on the walls is for promoting social justice
And the broken lock on my front door is really a complex metaphor for
My open mind concerning society
Those spiders are my pets
Their cobwebs-modern art
The bills lay untouched only because I enjoy toying with bureaucracy
Cabbage is my favorite meal
and canned food is a time capsule I get to destroy
He comes over early since he needs me too much
When he closes his eyes I know he pictures us
"I love this" is a euphemism for "I love you"
And the money on my nightstand is only because he cares
SOMETHINGWhat smoky poltergeist has lit outSOMETHING by jimfleming
across the dusty plains of my mind
and left no footprint?
A contrarian alchemist turning
my gold into lead and taking with it
all my illusions of clarity
Those wizards and sorcerers hawking
their false incantations and last right lies
I sense another curve in my future
Something just up ahead
Tokyo Motel My faith has failed meTokyo Motel by RussianTim
Your words are like the sunset
Please take me with you
We're always looking for something worth seeing.
I like to picture a young Franz Wright reading his life
sentence to a song bird and a hungry cat.
You're a poet. Welcome to Hell.
My father was a welder and probably more cynical.
(Another reason why I still throw salt over my shoulder.)
If I could, I'd ask him if he meets a lot of
pen junkies in the wherever of the afterlife,
and nothing else
|my favorite dA poetry|