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Monday, September 17, 2018

Mannequin


Dreams leak out of my mannequin head
My twisted plastic limbs are sprawled out on my bed
My expression ever frozen, in a dramatic pose
I'm not biodegradable but I want to decompose
A glue drop on my cheek to emulate a tear
I've been here 10 minutes or maybe 10 years






Wednesday, September 05, 2018

Coma


Whispers of mutinies touch her rose pedal ear
She peacefully sleeps through her endless nightmares
She journeys through the darkness seeking only light
The days drift by but for her... Only night
The machines breathe for her like a metronome
Through these sterile halls her spirit roams
The day has finally come to let her go
As my hand reaches the plug, she screams NO!




Tuesday, September 04, 2018

Autumn


I wilt in the twilight of summer
The trees are beginning to tire
My mind fondly wanders 
to a warm cozy fire
And when the winter becomes too much
And I can no longer feel my hands
I will cherish those golden memories
of the warm breezes, seas, and sands




Friday, August 31, 2018

Attack! Amen


The steeples tower over our flags
Dissent is not allowed here
How dare you not say the pledge!
Shots ring out in the crowded halls
Our children fall; victims of the sickness
We awaken from fractured dreams of something resembling freedom
Our electronic opinions hang like public laundry on a line
Eyeless sheep file out of the pews and into the voting booths
And the gods recklessly direct baseless wars against ourselves






Thursday, August 23, 2018

 Poverty drags me through the dust as a willing participant 
Money flows through my fingers like water
I dig out slowly from the holes I have created
The rope swinging seductively 
The silence of all my ghosts are deafening 
That little voice of reason whimpers in the dark
All my doors are closed as I slam them with defiance 
And the hungry winds swirl around me once more





Wednesday, August 22, 2018


Her forked tongue slithers from her mouth like two razor blades...

I hide behind the corner shivering with trepidation...

Her love. Her love is nothing more than tattered hollow sentiments;

lost in translation long ago.

She weaves a tapestry of vague riddles and lies; seducing me...

Incising me with small breaths of fond memories.

That light that resided behind her eyes has been stolen and

replaced with nothing.

I am now only waiting...

Waiting for her attack...

Monday, August 20, 2018

Just a Little Poem


You can be noble 
or a thief
And Indian
or a chief 
You can give 
away your last dime
Or be accused of
a crime
We all have poetry 
in our hearts
You don't need a bachelor's
in arts
There's a little good
in all of us
From the patriots
to the treasonous 


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