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The present is alive for now With its foaming smile And its maddened, infectious song And so begins Our rattling decline Where the mothering home Can comfort no more We leave the past without words In our trial and error In the cycle we’ve earned From our distant bliss
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Too right and serene Sweetened to insanity’s brink I shelter such days When I saunter with pride
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I’ve buried my all Into half-cooked sonnets No hard –lessons learned No glory dispensed As the weight of the world drifts And burdens all the rest With treachery, tragedy and want I cannot be pried From the slums I’ve forged I will not be hoist From the spires of praise A regretful demise Must snuff…
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A summer’s day turns And tussles inside With the tides of remorse Of the opportune lost A charred morrow calls And I fray in distress Sent tumbling As ridicule so gladly descends The summer day looms And I cannot be All curved by sorrow and sloth I cannot be The allure for vultures Who starve…
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Around and around In feverish cycles When the pleasure Grows hopeless and stale Till the merciless tracks Run along all your flesh As a blood mountain range In a stride to relief So full on young thrills And dulled to a whimper Distress never stalls Never slows To a death-ridden crawl To indulge Means to…
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Never mind the wilting frame His bottomdweller stride into mayhem Time after time What he wields has yet to take form To be revealed and revered By the light of our day He’ll flourish from the flask Emblazed with new hope As a truth to behold In all Its thundering glory Never mind All low…
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If I wasn’t their own I’d languish forgotten In the bowels of this seething world If I wasn’t their pride and joy Immune to true verse I’d surely drift and grieve If I wasn’t their morrow The bright beaming scourge Of their waking eyes I’d live among fools I’d plot and I’d prowl In need…
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His words all sailed in vain Upturned by silence Received Yet seldom revered For a flaw Tussled deep within A travesty unseen Uncared for and lost And he faded from view Dissolved By the talk of our time And he faded from view Soft-spoken And void
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I fade in a terrible scream Once feeble and far Now forceful and present It prevails all around Ensnaring these years In a whirlwind of blood Of lunacy and death Farewell to the meek Succumbed to soon To its murdering lows In the path of its scorn I’ll surely receive Their despairing eyes From beyond…
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We are deadweight In the hate-ridden mire Overthrown by our ills Beneath banners of rage We were given our chance Our day of days To quell the inferno The scourge of our time How could we give in? To a swindler’s creed For a jackbooted morrow And a drawn, farewell to ourselves
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