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26

July 3, 2010

christ

another
disaster

another
obstacle

another
damned decision

how
can I
decide
which way
to go
when
I don’t
know
where the hell
I’m going

barely know
where
the fuck
I’ve been

gettin’
so hard
to
remember

with all
the
energy
boosters
beta blockers
mood
relaxers
and
sex enhancers

sedatives
and
laxatives
son’a bitchin’
additives

I just
don’t know
no
mo’
just don’t

think I’ll
just
sit here
on
my ass
and
watch
the
bio-altered
morally
faltered
cash-injected
flu
infected
cell-updated
stimulated
oil-coated
over
bloated
computer-aided
portfolio
raided
mind-expanded
emotionally
stranded
flesh parade
go by

wanderin’ on
lost
as sheep
can
be

lost as me

all
those
assholes
hurry by

like they
got
some
important mission
that
they’re on

like
they got
someplace
to really
be

they don’t
know
what
it
even means
to be

here
now

hell
they ain’t
no place
to
begin with

nobodies
from
nowhere

their
shiny shoes
don’t
fool me

I
can see
right through
their
crap

they’re just
runnin’
to
keep up

with whom
they
do not
know

runnin’
runnin’
runnin’ out
runnin’ down

runnin’ off
at
their
damned fool
mouth

expellin’
gas
from their
empty
heads
ruinin’
the ozone

and
still
they’re runnin’

runnin’
to outrace
the
wrinkles

runnin’
to outreach
the grave

runnin’ scared

terrified
to stop
for fear
reality
will catch up

scared
that all
that they
ain’t
got
will overtake
them
face to face
while
they race
round
and round
like fools

rushin’
to get
more
of nuthin’
when
it’s nuthin’
that’s
got them

the nobodies
from no place
rushin’ roun’
with
nuthin’

‘cept
those
shiny shoes

and
they’re
damned near
wore out
from runnin’

chasin’
the bullshit
dreams

security
equality
annuity
gratuity
equity
prosperity

that phony
american dream
of
plenty

yeah
we
got plenty

plenty stress
and plenty
fear

and
we got
plenty belly

that’s
what
we got

obesity
anxiety
and
fuckin’
worn out
shoes

worn out
nerves
worn out
friends
worn out
love
worn out lives

just plain
and
simple
wore out

and now

another
god damned
fork
in the
fuckin’ road

know
where you
can
stick
that fork

no

better still

stick
that fork
in me

I’m done

 

this representative work of fiction was inspired by a Writer’s Island prompt

• digital art above, entitled “I’m done”, created by the author

 

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25

June 22, 2010

day breaks
on
a new week’s
sun

putrid
as the stains
on my
flesh-soaked
mattress

damp
as my sour
mat
of fevered
greasy
tangle

hot
as my
whiskey-foul
breath

another
un-commuted
sentence

9-5
’til
merciful dusk
delivers me

jack-knifed
into
my
jack and dan

don’t obsess
in sorrow

drown

a bottom-dive
to comatose

no virtue
feigned
nor
implied

mad goes
the struggle
until
saved by
jazz
48 over the
hump

2
debauched
24’s
then
the hissing
sting
of monday
and
the mindless
120-grind

cruel numbers
game
goes
round round
and ever round
’til
the tombstone’s
tender
solace

 

this representative work of fiction was inspired by a One Single Impression prompt

• digital art above, entitled “bottom dive”, created by the author

 

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24

June 21, 2010

here is the change

the mounting fear
the frustration
of uncertainty
the anger of forgetting
of losing
thing after thing
feeling it slip away
the no longer being able

and still
the longing to

and so
here is the change

here is the pain
the gripping terror
the withdrawing
the locking down
closing out
growing dim
turning inward
giving up
the sad surrender

and in the end
the shutting off

going void

 

this representative work of fiction was inspired by a Writer’s Island prompt

• digital art above, entitled “face of void”, created by the author

 

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23

November 14, 2008


the voice

grating
wafer thin
brittle
as a bone

transduced
solid-state
decreeing
we
should all
atone

a self-righteous
sanctifier
self-serving
frightened
liar

testifying
to the rotten lot
it’s been
dealt
in life

the sorrow
and
the strife

poor
pitiful victim

how unfair

like
that’s unique

like
I should care

I don’t
you don’t
they won’t

nobody
will
that’s
the thing

‘cause we
got our own
sour song
to sing

got our own
shit
sandwich

I sure as hell
got mine

my own
cry for sympathy
my wail of misery

I want
to cram
your ears
with
all my pain

wedge it
into your
blessed brain

wrap it
round your
sin-cleaved soul

shove it
up your
sainted hole

I bitch
so
you will know
the raw deal
that I got

do you
think
that I hear
you
sorry
I do not

I hear
my voice
I feel
my pain

do I feel
you

fuck no

your suffering
makes me
feel
better

better
than you
you
worthless fool

that is
what
I really think
and
it makes me feel
— GREAT!

superior
to you

you feel
the same way
too

you know
damned
well
you do

you feel
better
when I’m down

you crave
my pathetic story
in all
its twisted
glory

you
empathetically
bemoan it

’cause
you’re
too damned
scared
to own it

because
if you do
if I do
we’d have
to face
what’s
really true

we
are all
truly alone
in this
overwhelming
world

and that’s
so damned
terrifying

all of
life
is mystifying

so

we take
turns
testifying

pretend
to listen

act like
we care

we don’t

we’re too
preoccupied
with dying

 

this representative work of fiction was inspired by a readwritepoem prompt

• digital art above, entitled “po po me”, created by the author

 

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22

November 4, 2008


I sit

watch the flow
of people

the shuffle of feet
with their different sounds
according to their shoes

I see shapes of faces

unsmiling lips

their void curve
denounce this night

yet unseen

the gossamer curtain’s
fall
that defines
their soul’s duality

the divergent reality
through which
truth stumbles blind

to move in the world
rough as a rope
taut as every promise made

frayed as wisdom
leaned in
whispered from behind

block the fist
ease the ego
broker détente

bandage wounds
tend the bruises
the insults

grab at time
like dropped money

I might learn
a thing or two
tonight

but someone
must release the light

so I can shine
like a little boy
who likes ice cream
most of all

this boy
reads old men’s minds

he does not eat meat

I will not eat meat

so I notice the shoes

the belts
the bags

all made of leather

I feel a shiver

a sad imbalance

a confliction
in my soul

so

I’ll practice non-attachment
because I can

but pieces of me
stick
to whoever gets too close

you may have seen me

silhouetted against the sky
the coldest night in January

howling
with the frozen moon

a duet
to make coyotes
cower in their dens

then moon and I
sneak

among cages of studs
& trusses
we run

from room to imaginary room

the whole world
close enough to touch

we eat a midnight lunch

white cheese sandwiches
perfumed with foreign lands

and onion thoughts
layered deep

show mercy
peel back the layers

peel me away

thin by thin
skin by skin
to my quivering soul

I hope I am not
hideous in your sight

these thoughts
become too heavy to hold

or chew
or swallow

or lug in a massive bag

my thoughts

bonewhite lies
of morality plays
open for you to peak

hope they are not
hideous in your sight

hope they do not
make you cry

as you peel back
all the layers

onion
thought
layers

held fast and firm

like a carapace
to which
I’m stitched
and welded

and can no more leave
than you can truly enter

they tie me down
sometimes

but sometimes
barely so

survivor that I am

the inescapable optimism
in my barebones grin

flashes

in the brittle moonlight

a patrolman
comes to where I sit
to see

his beam
blinds the stars
from my eyes

beneath his warm smile

his radar eyes
scan the forgotten creases
and clandestine getaways
in my mind

standing over
he looks down

one of us can learn
a thing or two tonight

if someone
will release the light

 

inspired by a readwritepoem prompt

• digital art above, entitled “drifting/dreaming”, created by the author

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21

October 20, 2008


stopping is no option

to lose the way
is to keep
going

keep moving
forward
lest one
atrophies

grows rigid
with
the rigor mortis
of apathy

stiff
with unbending
ignorance
fear

paralyzed
gawking inward
at hopelessness
at failure

the
giving in
the giving up

the rot
that sets in
with
the loss of wonder

when grip lets go
of dreams

of possibility

arthritic loss of faith
debilitates
the soul

cripples
the manifest light
that shines forth
at the leap
into darkness

into uncertainty

into the sacred unknown

frozen
is the cautious man
withered in
a worried cage

terrified
of the wrong step
of
the journey all in

of daring the way
unmarked

and thus
bleeds out
the color of life
of living

to become cold
grey

a putrefied husk
of
brittled remorse

mired in
regret
for never having
shone so brightly
as to blind
the eyes of death

stopping is no option

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20

June 16, 2008

 

there is a darkness

I have known its presence
encountered its essence

it frightens me

it frightens me
because it is

because it is
so very devious
sinister
debilitating

all-consuming
if granted license

it lurks in shadow
collecting

collecting the dark matter
that steals into my life
into my heart

all the grief
failure
pain

all the terror
that has ensnared me
in times of weakness

all the empty blackness
that has befallen me

that has found a corner
of my soul
in which to hide

to sulk

secure foothold
like an awful seed
taking root

here it grows

here it dwells
manacled and restrained
in times of strength

kept in check
by my decent self

my self that loves
encourages
supports

that embraces possibility

my sacred self
that nurtures

that fosters empowerment

but

my inner-dwelling light
does not always shine
so bright

does not always hold sway
nor control
my inner darkness

my inner darkness
has great cunning
powerful influence

it is
at times
quite un-containable

this darkness
that has fed
upon the horror
that has been visited upon me

the betrayal
the abuse
the unthinkable loss

that has compounded
and festered

that has become animate

as if an entity
unto itself

that has gripped
and driven me

distraught
despaired
vengeful
unforgiving

driven me
to a perverse
unholy
bitterness

wholly unable
to fend off
the clutches
of this malevolence

it is
on occasion
far easier

even desirable

to succumb
to these dark forces
that promise
relief

falsely entice
with imagined
satisfaction

but there is
no quick release
from the pain

from the sorrow
that is
an inherent component
of life

one must
endure

and be tempered
invincible
by this endurance

steadfast
in the crucible
of resistance

but

the inner-mounting darkness
will ever seduce

its tug is powerful

I pray
here tonight

as I am swept up
in bittersweet memory
of you

overwhelmed
by the sorrow of loss

I pray
that the darkness
does not sense
that I am vulnerable

does not prey upon
my growing distress
that falls shadow-like
across my soul

that veils
my resolve
my courage

I pray
that the black void
does not birth
the despair

the anger
that begets
my other

my alter

my poison self
that I so detest

…and fear