Isolation Visual

Concrete Poem

 

   Blood

running

down

my knuckles.

    My feet embedded with glass.

The

sun bathed

my face

I

n

t

h

e

running

r

a

i

n

moments like this proves to me that not only that

hell is real

But that you don’t have to die to go there.

I bathe in the

sins of m y enemies

Consum ing their eyes

I n b l i n d n e s s

I walk away

Through a g

ray brick wall

Leaving my f

lesh and bon

es

behind.

Staring

at my reflection

   In the

dark skies

A thunderbolt

Silhouettes my soul

Over a small

crowded town

Of bitter witnesses.

Found Poem

Soul Out Of The Box

I buried myself away from you,

Deep

Deep

Deep

Deep

Until feeling your feet

Faded away.

Tossing and turning

Inside a wooden coffin,

Memories

Awaken my need

To return.

I climb the roots

The dirt embraces me

The soul got out of the box

Domesday became my friend.

Sweet dreams

Become beautiful nightmares

When you

wake up

to me.

A hearse carriage

Carries us

To a happily ever after  

Grave.

Week 10

I wear disappointment in my eyes

Like sunglasses

I stretch the scars on my back

Like angel wings

My fears cover me

Like the night starry sky

That shines through my window

As I dream of yesterday and tomorrow.

I grieve those alive and dead

Grey tombstones hairs on my head

A rose casket

On my bed

An open book unread

Crumbled letters in my throat

Unsaid.

The full moon rises

The energy of mercury

Pulls me towards the sun

The astros calls my name.

As I am the dark sky

I swallow the universe whole

And I control

the galaxy
that rotates within me.   

Sound Poem

Roaring water running down
sizzling against melting snow.

footprints racing
through the dancing winds
crushing earth
beneath the icy cracking surface.

Growling hungry howling wolves corner
the squeaking bouncy baby bunny
over a singing mountain

the child jumps,
the mountain splits
into two,
water splashes
rotating rivers around
the screaming wolves.

Cubist

To Dream

To dream
in time and space
where space could go back in time.

To walk on a cloud
where at any step
the cloud becomes a crowd.

To sleep next to a farmer
and wake up to a horse.

Counting sheep
turns to counting beats
to counting sleep
then counting streets.

We live on dreams.

Dreams take us,
here,
there,
everywhere.

But are dreams, dreams
If they're really dreams?

List Poem

What if I told you I don’t give a fuck?

What if I said I felt like I ran out of luck?

What if I ask why am I here?

Not my appearance, but existence.

I don’t care no more.

I don’t sleep no more.

I don’t eat no more.

I just drink some more.

Are dreams dreams,

If they are still dreams?

If I don’t give a fuck about this problem,

Is that a problem?

Im melting,

But does that make me a witch?

Or does that make me a bitch?

I can’t decide which?

I don’t care if he hates me,

I don’t care if she hates me,

I don’t care if they hate me,

Fuck them all just hate me.

If the shoe was on the other foot,

Not not yours,

But his,

You’d take the spit off my face,

And clean that little bitches shoes.

This is why I don’t fuck with y’all no more.

This is why I don’t talk to y’all no more.

This is why,

When your fake asses walk by,

I look at God through my sunglasses,

And don’t open my mouth to speak no more.

I walk through doors,

I look through ceilings,

I levitate on water,

I fuck your feelings.