I'm from Portland, OR, and if you know much about the city, you'll know my sullen brooding and sarcastic flippancy come with the territory.
My poetry is more of an outlet then an art at the moment. I like to play with meter, rhyme, and different structures.
Alone on branch, reposing in the light,
Amidst the Tree’s benevolent embrace,
A gentle breeze begins with such a grace
And touches with a delicate invite.
So there they dance together in their rite
In fond melee, their movements interlace-
Existing in that moment and that space-
A gentle breeze will touch in such delight.
That gentle breeze begins to whisper soft
In simple sighs and soaring serenade
Against excited leaves that take aloft
To plunge against the skies in masquerade
But, without adieu, the leaves have scoffed:
A lonely Tree alone will still be stayed.
The shovel plunges into the muck,
Air sucking at the crevice briefly
Before the tar holds the blade stuck-
A momentary tension that, chiefly,
Slows the moment to a halt.
Sludge gives way to rising slime.
The mound ascends in blank resignation,
A dent of progress in the grime.
As time travels its rotation,
The pit remains a soiled vault.
And so it plunges deeper in the tar,
A frenzied race to find some truth beneath;
But the gouge becomes a violent scar,
And everything is rotten underneath.
I dig into the darkness to find fault:
There is no thing left for me to exalt
Oblivious to truth;
Gone with guilt,
Head toward their grave
Black ink, softly splayed
Across your milky pale skin,
Pictures in the flesh
Her face is forever set,
Determined to be the end
When the window creaks, and the wick burns cold, When the door hinge rusts, and the walls grow mold, When the wicker rots, and the pieces fall, When the desk top cracks, and curtains brawl:
Whisper winds across the soiled, sad sight
Whisper winds across the sullied, sore site
Whisper, whisper me to end tonight
It started out a scream and died in a whimper. If only I could have been the voice and you the mouth. At last, last, please, let this be the end. This year has been too long, and my heart too tattered. I never want to again.
I do not like that woman there
With all her bleached out auburn hair
I hate to see her lipstick smile
Upon a face that’s sick and vile
I wish I could erase that face
And stick it in its wretched place
I yearn to see it in a scarf
So I could quell my urge to barf
I see you ride in on your horse
That I would shoot without remorse
I hear you laughing like a goat
That’s slurping on a villians’ moat
I pray someday I’ll get relief
From all the days you gave me grief
For nothing’s worse than knowing that
You didn’t wear your fucking hat.
Rain on my window,
Love’s embrace can’t penetrate
The thickness of glass
I look out in solitude;
I will never feel its kiss
Tips of your
Down the small of my back;
Your voice whispers
Against my thin veiled pulse,
My neck feels without touch
I turn my mind
So I can be consumed
By your breath,
By the brevity of your eyes,
By the harmony of chaos under skin;
Abandoned, my self slips into yours
I cannot promise forever,
Tomorrow isnt mine to claim;
The touch of time will mold me
And I can but ask for the shape
I can promise, though,
That the swaying tide of my soul
Will forever now drift me
In the direction of your embrace
In sweet, knowing words
‘Aren’t you going to kiss me now?’
My lips tilt to yours
My world sways with the ocean,
Your kiss moves me to madness
The black forest sways,
Dancing in the gusts of wind,
Praising the chaos.
I curse the rise of the sun,
The proof that more shall soon come.
I love you and you don’t care
You don’t care that i cry,
Don’t care that i thrash,
Don’t care that i gnash against the pain.
You are as selfish as I
And as naive as