Poetic

Such conviction

Learnt the hard way
Just how much I detest a strong character
And the haste with which I completely relinquish any semblance
of me, myself and I
In one’s company,
Say goodbye.

Congruence befalls me
The booming enthrals me
I’m the dutiful whore, see?
Plain, confounded
Can’t be ambivalent to this divinely conviction,
Come strip off what’s left then of my dignity.

This spewing is utterly painful to hear
And I’ve lent the extent of my haemorrhaging ear,
To what do I owe this most jarring displeasure.

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Poetic

Lord, we served

We longed to sell ourselves short
Flung our good grace down the well
Seldom claimed our daily bread.

Came through like a bat out of hell
To deify you sons of bitches
Satiate your every whim boys.

We’re God’s little odd jobs, never mind
All I have gathered in this life
Is how not to be.

One day I’d like to meet myself
Let her knows whose boss
I’m sure I would not even shake her hand.

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Poetic

Infinite Fatality 

You may think that time can wait
For your surly suicide state.
But what is that if not rot,
Festered foul and come to dot
That once 360 degree psyche
Now battered blue and lost at sea.

Now welcome your forebears’ faces
Ghostlike. Blame these sepulchral spaces.
Space is a bottomless well, free fall hope.
Time is the length of a noosed rope.

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Poetic

Mercy ma

Day of ruthless judgement come, I be deceased
It will be everything I ever dreamed
For I’ll look into the eye of the one I always grieved
And say I was everything I ever could be.

I’m so sorry for murdering hapless loves
Heartbreak born of my gutless goads
But here me now ma, I come readier than I am raw
So shower me with it pure,
And I will rain in turn, on you and yours.

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Poetic

Heathen grace

And with a smattering of congenial disgust
I catch the fate of this feeble mind, steeple chaser, remiss crime.
A spear tip gut, entrails gush, propane cut.
Looking for the one, knuckle-white clinger for every last grain of disdain.
For the one had got away, gotten on for a song, adorn
The disgrace of erring heart, stain of blithe man.
Disaster passed her, laughed a great one, karma come undone.

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Poetic

Devil knows I am

Deathly afraid to stop knowing you
Fierce prize of a cub-like man. Once, no twice,
Let’s try thrice devoured for a bland, scarce dinner
For a barely chew and spit morsel.

Disaster after disaster will pass her
What pathetic life form
No refined pallet
But swills at every chance.

Let’s hold up now
Do I cease to beat myself black and blue?
And shiny but I do not shine
Playing better than my worst is harder than it sounds
You do not know a thing
I brushed off your sins
Before they even left your pretty little mouth
To say nothing of the ones
That barely impressed upon your chest
That stand neither a coaxing, nor trial
I am no judge-penitent
Assume no such title
I swam, no drowned in deep blue love
And hell only knows this preemptive defense
The heart so eager to quickly mend.

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Poetic

Her will her woe

If those of you, able to look dead into me and interject
‘there’s something wrong with you’,
are then rendered alright,
I’d rather stay in my wrongness
Than be alright.
For it’s plain wrong
I tell you.
I prize that something wrong with me.
Fucking wrong ‘un, me.

But he never did that
And she would never do that.
Stay alright
You seldom straying
Lovely people.

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Poetic

You’ll bruise

Don’t baby me
Sober leech
Ask me why I don’t have a fresh uptake on life?
This, my retort, is yours expressly:
It’s fresh as the rot my future world festers in
Born of your unyielding sin
Our innings.

Quit the play
Your meagre games of late
Deem yourself a seer
Cannot see past the end of your nose
Then you sever it, don’t spite your face.

And yes
When I have at thee
In part, I have at me.

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