Tag Archives: Poetry

Poems – Vol. 3

Many of my poems were written in my Cold War history class. This could be a stretch, but I believe this is because viewing the world in retrospect is not dissimilar from the introspection caused by traversing back through the individual time line. For me at least, the former tends to trigger the latter.

I do not write poems with succinct and clear definition. Though poetry writing is still a new muscle for me to exercise, I’ve developed a personal philosophy of striving toward conveyance of feeling, driven by lines of sensory provocation and emotional language. I never give the exact “meaning” to any of my poems. Short of a full discussion in which interpretations can be explored, I could never reveal cut-and-dry “answers.” It is important to understand that my experience and your experience can never be the same – only line up within degrees. I esteem that uniqueness of thought, and it’s a quality I try to tap into with my words.

I made the edits to these standing behind the register of my burger flipping job and I present them here now, sophomoric warts and all. This first one is dedicated to the United States during the early 1970s.

Smog Lung Song – 11/29/2016

Fill it with everything but me
Knuckles bleached, ingrown splinters, Knives, half-hearted crimps of lip
Fill it and let me be pale
These nations towed by Neolithic barbers, ancient ruts
Skin taut, grips on void
Deserted moments lousy with squatting, loathing browbeaters
Abandoning paths paved black and boiling
Clenched, crooked mouth, strain eyelids shut and obscure
Passive, soot-bathed bodies breathe polluted winds
Flickers of forgotten flames, mistaken beliefs breed
Swarms of dragonflies flash frozen black and white
Laying now heart and head on that baked gravel pavement
Borne into the end         invisible gashes bleed no more

A Fascination with the Fluorescent – 11/29/2016

A fascination with the fluorescent
Today a small triumphant
Moment lost in opaque landscapes opaline
A pretentious peasant’s scribbled lines
Oft-remember pigments stitching life
Shifting shades in monochrome kaleidoscope
Weave gray in persistent pessimism
Soul sipping toxins through bendy straws
Bales of hate feeding honor-starved mares
Emaciated steeds dragging steady
Scabs and bones I once called me


Poems – Vol. 2

Saying a lot by saying a little. A simple poem made simply for the making of poems. Getting in touch with my roots.

Let Her – 11/4/2016

Let her

Whether now or never

Let her

Tell her pleasure

Rhyme and measure

I met her

Eiffel Treasure

Oasis in desert

Recollect her


Yesterdays forever

Never forget her

One of my earliest poems. Inspired by Alea’s “The Last Supper”, Rage Against the Machine, and my own appraisal of the modern American life.

Umbilical Chords – 9/15/2016

somewhere deep
festering, blistering creep
thorns born from motherboards
strum umbilical chords
cut throats on stolen swords

an omen and a fetish
dive-bombing albatross
surrounded by those that relish
in one’s own dross
front-facing self-love
toxic wings carry quick-judging doves
clockwork flight patterns
in unending rotation
in validation
coal-walking temptation
don’t ask
for liberation
escape from the plantation
means trial and tribulation

In time
null rhymes
seasons without reasons
All is reclaimed by sands
take fate in your own hands
‘fore they do it for you
lords and priests and pharaohs who
will put foot to back
limbs chained in the rack
masters count the lash
rise up serf and slave
there’s freedom for those who crave
nothing past the grave
not just angry mobs
these maroons and exiles and braves
the fist of the common man throbs

the steel dagger cloaker
the cane sugar joker
the fish bone choker
the wish bone broker
the barbed pyre stoker
the dead leaves smoker
inhale man’s hate
petrified and irate
pawns corner kings
a check and a mate

ebony, ivory the eclipsing twin
blood moon knights shield a corona day
the only way to win
is to never play

Sometimes it just feels good to feel bad, man.

Misery in Misty Eyes – 9/24/2016

misery in misty eyes
phantom sensations and blighted cries
tell me your lies
pipe dreams to memorize
words of forgiveness
tongues tied
can’t deliver this
a feeling that’s long since died
but the coffin shakes
still alive, zombified
unearthed and bleeding
dragging and leading
grey flesh beckons me
no heart beating

Poems – Vol. I

Poetry is not something I had ever thought I’d actually take the time to sit down and write recreationally. It just never occurred to me that any of it would be worth reading, and therefore, not worth writing. That’s since changed since I started my daily journal. I’ve found the challenges in the creative process to be very rewarding. Getting down my ideas and feelings is one thing, but turning it into an artistic form is a different beast entirely. The beast with two backs, for the thespians out there. And so I’ve written some, a few better than others. Some spurred out of burstfire whims, while a select few have taken hours of deliberation. If nothing else,  poetry has given me another outlet for understanding self, and works as a time capsule of the 20 year-old me. So without further ado, here’s some of my cognitive and emotional run-off. I hope there’s something for you to enjoy.

a poem I wrote in class, on the Cold War and icons

PASS THE TORCH – 9/??/2016

One, two rooster call

of duty, big or small

forty frozen beach time volleyball

curtain called

Lee Harvey Oswald

track CIA black

ops sneak and stalk

lead the flock

scarecrow puppet man

human mock

river reflections cong and ‘Nam

shellshocked bleeding palms

no sin


John Lennon beetle faggot

smack addict

pulse though the veins

whitewash bleach the stains

bicentennial growing pains

for sordid sorts

in Soviet forts

squealing pork

starting torque

pass the torch

a poem on camaraderie, melancholy, and disenchantment

CRYPTED – 9/11/2016

Phone a sarcophagus

moans and rot and bones

suffer hurdled stones

taxidermied soul

kindred spirits

flight solo, but not alone

kismet steers it

shambling ships and shanties

crosses bear it

don’t bury him

cold from brain to stem

lost connection, disconnected

anguish recollected

washed in them

the dead air sits still

entombed will

never feel

but jade

slip to shade

a poem on a generation of nonsense

Red Rumming Head – 9/??/2016

Red rumming head

Homestead bed of dread

Keep these vampires well fed

Bloodbath butt buffet

A trial on the soul, I’ll say

Voodoo witchcraft caj’

Undone by silver tongue promises

Of Grey Poupon furnishes

Bartertown merchant whiz

Uncle Ben rice purchases

Do exactly as the doctor says

Quick! Jugular tourniquet

Vocal cord blow a kiss

Fat fat fatties

Taking the piss

Bad bad nannies

Getting this bliss

Zero good rhymes

Kamikaze limes

Blitzkrieg bitch dimes

Fist these mimes

‘cross the face

Demigod denizen

Armed with the Denny’s pen

First season Ben 10

90’s kid master race

Billy Grim crass

Billy club crack

Hearts for the joker

Spades for the ace