the quiet room

life like listerine
inside a cancerous mouth
moon days
ruled and revisited by ashtrays
sadness and civilized cliches

i’m wandering in the dark
at 3 am
listening to
a scattering of birds converse
and somehow their melody is different
from the consistent songs of sunrise

experimentation
free form exploration
or was it just
pointless exploitation

undone in a moment of
premeditated spontaneity
a moment when your body fails
and your mind falls
grasping for lethargic pens
that litter lateral halls

words, words words,
presented with
electable ugliness
and stubborn beauty
i want them to love me
for my poetry
not for my body
and i’m funny only when drunk
so it’s back to the drawing board

river’s end
descend
into angles
slightly askew
as i harness wind
that ripples over calm waters
and time is irrelevant
as tattered hands hold cameras
capturing the cadence of objectivity

narrated, infiltrated,
consecrated, and desecrated
this madness is a source of
intoxicated meditation

dreaming in a backyard prison
of overgrown splendor
and cutting karmic cords
i shouted something about art
or was it love
non-entity swirl
and where is my
beautiful artist hippy girl

the devil drives
a calypso witch bargain
delivered in complicated jumbo jargon
and we are
climbing sandy foothills
racing with hustlers and shills
no romanticism
no thrills

the stupor of adulthood
rides a train of misdirection
and what are “the rules”
that we’re supposed to follow
no purpose
lost along the common path

noise, and it’s all just
abbreviated language within a storm
of vague and unintentional meaning
slowly intervening
as we are overwritten on grey pages
casually passing through
abdicating and repetitious stages
of spirit and mind

i’m still seeking divine eyes
and the dreams of lsd
i miss every moment of we
caught in cosmic alliance
fate played out three ways
dawning on these strange days

you are not here
not now
so i must
be the word
i must be
an indignant literary insurgent
wandering commas and question marks
inspiring the demise of fear
and whispering the spirit of rEvolution

253-the-quiet-room

 

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