This is a poem that was published in http://www.poetry.com's annual book.
sepia still
tattered coffee stained pictures
hold the everlasting portrait of nevermore
eternal empty stares
dead pupils
jaundice glare
words forever on the verge
of being spoken
never being heard
or understood
insecure poses infront of
mechanical eye
unnatural stance
unmoving dance
inescapable youth
juvenial dreams never explored
or even imagined
frozen faces with names
long since forgotten
smell of mold and decay
one still frame creates fading paper graves
xxx
Here is another poem not published but it is one of my favourites.
We're Responsible
we'll never be held in a court for our contempt
we'll never face judgement for our sins
we'll never see the silver bars of misery
from our beds made of bones, we sleep with our own demons
like a beast of burden, we lie on top of worlds
full of grass and poppies, guns and heathens
and we relax upon the corpse of dignity
we cleanse our souls in the blood and the purity
of babies born to the heart of the universe, and humanity.
our burnt offerings left at the feet of lady liberty
we ignore our responsibility for a poppies worth of mystery
the guillotine of revolution
cut off the head of kings and restitution
white collars wipe their ass with the constitution
take a deep breath and feel the pollution
hear Ginsberg's hellish cries from within
swallowing our own bile and sin
we tuck our tails away between our legs
as we lay bombs like eggs
standing at our bathroom sinks looking into mirrors
and seeing profanity staring back at us
we're all too isolated to be heroes
who has time to put up a fuss
grasp our counter tops until our knuckles turn white
it still wont make the world all right
let down our blackout curtains
try to filter the burning light
existence in a mainframe of gigabytes and information
where is the connection, why all this segregation.
Algorithms for sympathy
the nexus of insensitivity
all hail Barnes and Noble.
Blackwater and Bilderberg
start licking Rothschild ass
if you want to survive this mess
this corporate Armageddon
your heart flat lines,
with the ringing of bay street bells
your portfolio burns in hell
a-bombs made of aplombs
maggots infesting our slipstream
creating holes in the mega screen
of televised havoc and car bombs
and through it we see
the truth in all its morbidity
you cant change the channels now
your brain is on auto lock
fire upon your dull thoughts with laser beams
invigorates your souls, infra red sets you free
embrace the soliloquy, of those tied down by frequency chains
walk in lines, one two three
heartbeats in sync cant beat free
do the turnstile dance
for just one measly chance
your still all sheep
being inventoried
why did you vote Tory
you stupid mother fuckers
the end
more of my poetry is at http://methadonepretty.deviantart.com
