Two weather torn men
shuffling their feet,
creating whirling clouds
of dust.
The journey is the key
to open the chest
of dreams and ambition.
Category: poetry
Groan and moan,
sweet cheeks rising.
The sun is waiting.
It’s a beacon
of hopes horizon.
Fresh starts
for fresh minds.
Deep breaths
and long sighs.
Hangmans callin.
It sickens me to think
about the pasty grey mush
that the brain is.
Like pudding
in a cheap can.
Cut it open and shake it out
like cranberry relish
at thanksgiving time.
Observe the wrinkles and fine lines
that have developed
from sitting in that can for so long.
Poke it?
Prod it?
Ask it to dance!
Watch it slowly wilt
like a sad slinky
abandoned for other
more entertaining
things.
I brush my hair
before I go
to bed
so that I look my best.
Isn’t that what you
are supposed to do?
Look good
for the things
you care about?
Pitter pattered
paint splatter,
flecks of golden
sunshine.
Cascading drops
of sun kisses
floating like soap
bubbles on a
stream of cream.
Take pills and feel good.
Chemical happiness, man.
Rotting from inside.
Steve will make
a good hamburger
stay a while for
the cheap whore
slips down
the launchpad
shows signs
of neglect.
Caramel waves of marmalade jelly
splashing swimming tiger stripes
flailing to keep its head above
the ocean of oil and water
Pop songs and orgies in four.
waltzes and threesomes in three.
quickstep and love in two.
loneliness and suicide in one.
In my head its giant
Fireworks
circus lights and carnies
parade of gold
engineering a road,
a path…ANYTHING!
Just give me someway…
to get them from the mind
to the paper
