Posts Tagged ‘death’

Growing even in the Dark – A Poem

Posted: November 7, 2019 in poems, POETRY
Tags: , , , , ,

Murdering worthless promises,
Over complicating trust,
To fear the love,
To hate the truth,
Mother Mary,
Into the wind,
Screaming into the world,
To hear,
That misery,
Killing our souls,
To see the beauty die,
To see the ugliness grow,
To flourish,
Even in the light,
A worthless world indeed,
My only friend,
That darkness building,
Trust me,
The rage builds,
Growing even in the dark.

I wear a broken crown inside a broken fairy tale

A BROKEN FAIRY TALE – ACT ONE: I wear a broken crown inside a broken fairy tale, that sweet misery, a cut into my soul, a whisper into the storm, raging inside my head.

I ripped Heaven, that evil place, from my broken mind,
Replace it, so gently with harshest intents, with Hell,
And uncontrolled rage,
Spit from my fingers to the page,
You might, without malicious intent, enjoy my pain,
But, kind people, you will not enjoy my hate,
My fist of rage,
Pounding into your mind.

I, dear friend, have been cursed,
Doesn’t matter how hard I try,
No matter how hard I pray,
To whatever God shall listen today,
A muddle of suicidal tendencies,
Wrapped in homicidal rage,
Madness, oh dear sweet love, hidden behind that mask I wear,
Society does not know,
Showing only happiness,
Oh fucking Joy!

Listen, oh so carefully, to the sound of the dying inside,
To want, oh dear world, to be like that normal person,
But I dare ask, what is considered normal?
I pretend, in spirit if not in mind, to be alright,
But in reality,
I am a false image of that reality.

I try, oh how I try, to run away,
From that place,
Running, madly, screaming, into the blackness,
Trying to escape,
From this reality,
But instead,
Falling further down the rabbit hole.

I want to be in another place,
Maybe in another time,
I’ll be good like you pretend to be.

I hate what I have become,
What was I suppose to do?
Dead inside,
A soulless husk,
A broken fairy tale,
Good bye,
Fuck you cruel world.

There will be no peaceful revolution,
A bloodless resolution,
The resolution shall be televised.

I am not a robot,
I am not a machine,
I feel like shit,
In this meat jacket,
I feel worthless,
Fuck this shit,
Fuck this life,
Fuck you, you piece of shit,
Breathing increases,
The damage cannot be undone,
This life is done.

I am better than this,
I am better than you,
Break the mirror,
There is something inside me,
Wanting to live,
Wanting to die,
Wanting to destroy,
Wanting to create.

You left me,
Soulless and afraid,
My heart ripped out,
Buried in that grave,
And I fell apart,
Into misery,
A broken heart,
Lives apart.

There upon the floor,
I fell down,
Upon my knees,
My tears a river,
Flowing to the sea.

Heaven is just a word,
To clear that misery,
Heaven is just Hell reversed.
Smoke drifting up,
From a midnight cigarette,
Smoked at 3 AM.

I don’t make promises,
I cannot keep,
I do not break the promises,
I made to you,
That night,
That life,
A thousand years ago,
It seems,
A different life indeed.

Here I am,
Trying to live my life,
To keep that promise that I made to you,
To keep on living,
To live,
To watch the stars,
A midnight sky,
A shooting star,
Making a wish that you were still here,
To see you one more time,
That the day would last forever,
One last kiss,
Under that sky,
Here I am,
Wishing on shooting stars.

That morning sun – A Poem

Posted: September 12, 2019 in poems, POETRY
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Into that night we went, our eyes held tightly shut against the darkness, it was as if the Earth had wept, flooding her skin, killing the viruses that made their life there.

The sun would not rise,
To set the plains a glow in rage,
The dying of that life,
Was eternally disgraced,
To see,
To hear,
That moment in time,
Orgasmic release,
To grow,
To be born,
To live,
To love,
To wither,
To die,
To be born again.

We were young,
But dying just the same,
That moment in time,
Our life,
We showed them,
We would not be discouraged,
As we raged,
Against the yokes,
Of great burden,
To live,
To not be burdened,
To weep,
Great joyous tears,
Good night,
Sweet life,
My love,
Till we wake again that day,
To greet the morning sun.

August 14th, 2019 – Rapid City, South Dakota – Mood: Fucked up!

I’m sitting here, happily numb to the world’s news, could care less about anything going on in the world of politics, sports, or even the morning news, that news which is happily digested with the random peoples’ coffee and eggs and burnt toast.

I’m starting to watch the movie Howl – 2010 – the story based on that famous work by Allen Ginsberg, Howl, I decide to write, quickly jot down my thoughts, before they escape into the fogs of my mind, where they will disappear into the slowly fading mist.

I don’t know what the say, what to write, I just type, best minds of my generation died before they were even born.

My generation, who almost killed themselves on lawn darts, good thing the parents of the next generation stopped that madness, that fuckery, before their kids died.

My parents didn’t care.

They were like, here’s a sharp pointy thing, go play outside and leave us alone, go die, your generation will probably be the last.

We weren’t the last.

We had a generation and that generation is close to having theirs if they haven’t already.

We were drinking wine; tall glasses, broken glasses, in places where madness reigned, and the girls were pretty.

We died in paradise, our dreams worthless, pouring tall glasses of wine, topping them off with gin and singing songs about Mary and Sue, in June, in fields of green grass, we laid, and laughed and told stories about lost love.

This was were the world would die, not in a loud scream, but in silence, to die, in bitter haste of silent rage, a new day.

Dear world, in God’s name, we pray, to cum into bottles and throw them away, our seed wasted, blasphemy.

We were white, black, Jews, we were dying just the same.

Fuck you screamed the man in the black robes, trying to find himself, in a mindless place, losing his mind, wishing to slit his wrists, to let the blood flow free, to die, a winner, not some loser, trying to find a fix on the corner of Sixth and Elm, to dream, impossible dreams, to see, that fixture in the glory of a world built on nightmares and ledges, razor blades on crank, snorting it all up our noses, to waste away in that madness.

Jesus saves,


Glorify that, word, masturbation with sand paper and lye.


Pick your fights.

Pick your nose.

Glory! Glory! Oh fucking Glory!

Good night!

Do dare breathe — A poem

Posted: July 31, 2019 in poems, POETRY
Tags: , , ,

That world,
Ripe with anticipation,
Against the dying of the sun,
Who is that,
Standing in the doorway,
Pressed against that mirror?

I don’t trust the world,
It’s too fucked up for making sense,
Drinking wine from a brown paper bag,
Too much misery to stay that sober,
12:45 in the afternoon,
Dreaming of Sandy Moons in a pale light dress,
Dancing in that jazz band,
That hour, she then, slit her wrists and died onstage,
For that world to see,
To fear,
To gasp in delicate horror,
As the blood drained from that lifeless hull.

Leave those lies behind,
On those stepping stones,
Each one breaks with each steps.

To dream,
Of that bygone day,
To close thy eyes,
In sweet misery,
Goodbye sweet world,
I shall not forget you,
My fair disease,
Do dare breathe…

In a beautiful nightmare, the winds of time blew in the winter storms, creating an illusion of safety in the embrace of the cold and the snow, the madness began to set in.

December 12th, we were dancing merrily through fields of snow and ice, the wind breaking through our thin coats, it was a dream, I thought, slowly settling into the madness of defeat, death was close at hand.


We laughed there, by the fire, drinking whiskey and talking about life on the range, before the corporate assholes came in, and modernized the shit out of the fields and the range.

I wrote a letter to my girlfriend back east.

Dear, whatever how are things?

We weren’t that close, I guess, I laid in my cot, staring up into the ceiling, a painted mess of centuries, draining into the darkness, pulling me up, into that deep sleep where I would dream.

Impossible dreams.


I woke up.

3 AM.

I dare not fall back to sleep, as the demons would take me.

A sad fate.

So here I sit and…broken….whispers in the rain..

Darkness weeping, a sad good bye, hollow eyes, a vision,

Of Deceit.


Good night….good bye….

Reach into that madness,
Where the cancer grows,
Polluting that system,
Pull it out,
Throw it into the raging sun,
He returns to that horrid place,
That madness,
He does not reach out,
His mind a race,
Taken out,
His busted mouth,
He lies there,
On the ground,
The sun,
A red orb,
Burning flesh,
Blinding eyes,
Burning that soul,
Oh damn Hallow Earth,
How I curse thee,
From fruited plains,
To purple mountain,
Fuck your streams,
Your bodies,
Your souls,
I spit on you,
I denounce you,
Dying to that will of that sight.

I cut the blade of grass,
As I cut my wrists,
Straight and true,
And to the bone,
I do not die,
I do not live,
I lay there in the shining sun,
An orb of white against the blue,
A beauty star,
A sin to God,
To shine so brightly.

He could see the madness in the sky,
The stars blazing a series of written code,
Astral subjects drawn out in twilight of that green and gold scrolling across his eyes.

There was no way to hear,
The voices were silenced,
His eyes,
Could not see,
Except what he was allowed to see,
His mouth was sewn shut,
He did not need to eat or speak.

His mind,
Oh great madness,
Drilling through his body,
Dying to be set free from that hollow body,
Supported by the machines,
Breathe in,
Pump blood,
Breathe out,
Death has a dignity,
All its own,
He had been told as a child,
Before the sweeping character of war,
Ripped his choices away,
Now how he wish he could scream,
Let me go,
Can you hear me?
I want to die,
Please let me!

How could he tell if he was asleep,
Was this life,
Or just a dream?
Waking up,
He could not see,
Nothing could be real,
Even the pain was such a relief!

He would scream,
Like that young children trying to break free,
The one in that field,
Running free,
His mother picking him up,
Twirling him around,
That child,
Laughing all around,
Was this a dream?
His sanity left him,
This was his reality,
This room,
Over medicated,
Wishing he could kill himself,
But only pissing himself.

The doctors say he is making progress.

Home fires are burning,
Still burning,
Come home little boy,
Come home!


A Poem inspired by lyrics in a different way than could be imagined.

No person is referred directly in this poem.

But it’s for Steve.

You suck Steve!

Hiding my face,
Sick of looking,
For answers,
As you bury the truth,
Inside a pile,
Of that shit,
You call a life.

I disguise myself,
That I’m doing alright
While hating you,
I hate your face,
I hate the fact,
I let you into my heart,
I hate the fact,
Your face still comes up,
I want to rip your eyes out,
Tear your throat out with my teeth,
Like a wild wolf,
Rampaging against a leash,
I wish you nothing but a painful death,
A horrible rash on your ass,
I hope your children are blind,
Who fall from your worthless womb,
And splat to the ground.

I may have lost my way,
I may have lost my mind,
Standing here,
In the middle of broken dreams,
Locked in hateful thoughts,
I try to scream,
But my voice is trapped inside,
I am losing hope,
Trying to find something,
Maybe a way to erase the memories,
Wear a disguise,
To hide my rage,
I will leave your memory,
Out in the sun,
To let the crows eat you away,
A memory lost.

I hope you get a sickness,
Incurable by modern meds,
I hope you live in pain,
I hope your limbs rot and fall off,
Leaving still alive,
Trapped inside that worthless body,
Your mind screaming for death,
But it never comes,
Rot in Hell,
I hope you die,
I hate you,
I want to bash in your face,
I want to rip out your eyes,
I want to be there when you fall,
I want to laugh,
As you cry out in pain!!
I want to bash your head in,
With my fist,
Over and over,
I hope you have a great day.