grim feast

i dine on trampled hearts,
and sup on shredded souls.
i prepare them myself
in my private butchery,
(you may call it my kitchen
if you like).
innocently gleaned,
i gather them with words,
each carefully marinated
with broken promises,
seasoned with lies
and unfulfilled desires.
i cook them in my forge
of apathy,
its fires fed
by faggots of indifference.
i could always tell
when it’s well done –
delicious tendrils of [...]

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calamitous

looking like raindrops oiled,
my future,
blackened by soot, blackened by pollution,
i see,
with eyes soiled
by mind putrid with synapses twisted,
innocence avenued to dark interpretations,
and hands obey,
shattering friendships,
staining lives,
bringing me where i am now,
here, where i am,
having stained lives,
having shattered friendships,
i have obeyed hands
that turned innocence into shadowed alibis,
twisted synapses of a putrid mind,
soiling my eyes,
and all i [...]

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sincerenity

that i,
unique,
oblique,
unthesame and so unyou,
will be the monogram
of our united hate,
(we term it discouragement)
overlooking
this fact essential –
that out of all
our seeming difference
lies a thread
undifferent,
woven through this tapestry
that unites,
so familiar,
so akin,
so true –
that we are siblings celestial,
a seed
that can bloom
endless forevers long….
what sense then
this common contention?

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conquerer

did you think i have forgotten
after all that i’ve begotten,
using paper, ink, and pen,
using all my wit and ken?
oh, how immature thy faith,
much more fragile than a wraith!
this ain’t fleeting as a breath;
’tis immortal, with no death!
when i promised thee forever,
it thus follows that i’d never
disavow what i aver –
that i love thee, conquerer!

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if poetry was blood

if poetry was blood, then i shall bleed a sea!
i shall spurt, nay, fount! a flowing river
that shall rival Nile at Moses’ day,
and neither shall i faint at lifeblood’s loss,
for what i gush forthwith
is hundredfold replaced!
if poetry was blood, then i am poem!
for what courses through my veins
is nothing less than pure intelligence,
rhymes, wit, rhetoric, [...]

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Talk to Me of Dreams

Like when you told me of your best,
Where you were holding a rose between your lips,
And your masked knight rode by, alit,
And took that blossom, and said
“I have found you.”
That was so beautiful to hear,
The music in your voice was so clear,
I could have sword you knew him,
But you said no,
He never took his mask [...]

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