Archive for the ‘random writing’ Category

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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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19

June 10, 2008

 

the blade
that cuts
this
tie
that’s bound

is secured
here
in our grasp

with
righteous rage
and
purposed thrust

foul
contract
will
be severed

and we

lifted
and
untethered

free at last
of
you

vile judas

who
would have us
supplicant
and cowered

brittle shells
devoid
vital juices
of
trust
and opportunity

the
soul-marrow
that
sustains
our
balanced self

spawns
right thinking
and
possibility

nurtures
our unshackled
will

that
fosters
our
innate prowess
to
see through
the likes
of
you

your
lust
for power

your
unchecked greed

see through
your
gross
intolerance

it is upon us
to confine
your shut
and
damaged mind

squelch
your
toxic agenda

and lay bare
the folly
of
your vision

your narrow
festered
point of view

to silence
now
your
twisted tongue

that spews
the
acrid gorge
of
lies

we
will celebrate
this
final cut

raise it up
for
all
to see

and know
its authenticity

that
rejects
your
dark reality

henceforth
mute
to naïve
ears

that
might succumb
to your
seductive rail
of
all-consuming
fear

we
have watched
you
tread upon
a
sacred trust

ill-gotten
in
a feigned
display
of
true choice
and
fair selection

you
have soiled
and sullied
a
time-honored
seat

bruised
and scarred
its
dignity

but

you
are well
soon
set aside

exposed
in your
iniquity

to suffer
the
judgment
of history

this
is the season
of your
end
of days

your reign
of terror
is over

 

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17

May 23, 2008

 

bent

they slink
the
netherworld

beyond
the mirror

where
loosed
the
vengeful beast

veiled —
their eyes
from
sacred truth

prod —
to walk
a
mournful path

begot
beguiled

their fate
besot

cursed
to
wrest asunder
the fidelity
of
dreams

deafening
their
plaintive cries

misery’d pleas

and
guttural
moans

savaged forth
from
forlorn souls

lost

unchaste

forgotten

blind
is
virtue’s
sullen eye

dim
now
evermore

sad beings
in
a brutal world

torn
in
ceaseless
pain

rending
horror

unending
strife

a horde
quite
misbegotten

yet

concurrent
with
this
dreadful plight

a reality
of
consuming bliss

of
knowledge
vast
and deep

beauty
pure
as light itself

goodness
strong
as sterling

the song
of
spheres
so
sensuous

a place
of plenty
where
no one
wants

precious gifts
bestowed
sublime

to
feast
the spirit

to
dwell
in grace

to
behold
the infinite
face
of truth

to
hear
the voice
all-knowing

whole

these
differed realms
abide

reside
in time

though
not
congruent

unseen
the
gossamer curtain’s
fall

that
divides
these
dual realities

that share
no
commonalities

on and on
their
continuum

an unbroken
strand
unfurls

parallel
in separate
space

unknown
each
to the other

unaware
of
the
fragile thread

that binds
them
fast

dark
to light

seen
to unseen

tethered
everlasting

eternally
apart

this
counterbalanced
hidden link

the lifeblood
of
existence