feral

inspired by AudioSlave’s “Show Me How To Live

A desert remains where I feel lost…
unbound by time,
fragranced with wine.

So many times, diffident when faced with a cause
not a follower nor a leader, but effaced from it all.

I believe because I don’t understand the way others choose to live.
Recoiling and replaying these useless episodes onto a sieve.

But when the heat rises from within, when something ticks me off,
damn you all, for you will know what my nature is all about.

Gnawing through to the other side without any questions asked.
No doubt of my purpose lingers when I’m compelled…

to act … to pounce.

petal

to be one so close to many
yet so much on my own

without the feeling of intimacy
and only the proximity

I bathe in sunlight
with my fellows which
I feel nothing for

I drink in the wealth of nature
enjoying my share not caring
how the others fare

the wind when it comes and violates the calm in all its perfection
performing it’s swaying intercourse I feel every sensation
I am one with this wind but not with the others that
ride on this crazy flower

some of them fall into the grass and
I feel the pressure to merge with the earth
in this realization I feel closer to something
just don’t know what it is

denominator

denominator
Seriously, what is wrong with people?
there is a totality to it
seething forked tongue rat bastard

you know what you are and you hide behind glistening facade
when things get messy pull out a gun

and make a bigger mess for other people to anguish
and you live so well since you had the last word

in the disagreement you will always win
as it is the only way to justify your existence

but in the end, and there always will be an end,
even to that which seems interminable,

what flavor will be your dust?
what irritants do you leave behind you?
what new hells and misery do you spawn?

Goodbye, denominator, you live so well below the line
Why could you not just find life more fine?

solace

my shadow in front of me
and when it is behind me too
it is a shallow reflection of myself on this earth
affirmation that I exist even when I feel erased
by people who care for me, supposedly

truth, plainly and openly
I’ll take any offering
so rare indeed
but even a morsel
fuels my empty soul

my own mind’s chatter
fighting for what matters
even in the wake of corruption
the desire to make right what is wrong

Lived long enough to know
there’s not much solace in a cease
so I go on with hope not so much gone

Extinguish Me!

for someone I love that is withering away

My senses are rioting against me.

Muddled vision, my eyes strain to see
where I have lived for forty years.
Alas, I can’t see the layout in my mind,
burning away an already threadbare resolve.

My legs don’t move so great
as I shrivel in my carcass suit.
How’d I get so short?
My wrath is lost.
I can barely hear your voice;
sound as loud as musical notes on paper to me;
utterly useless like I feel.

Suffocation. Breathing bouts;
Just enough air before I pass out.
My hands have aches and pains.
My brain
can’t process like it used to.
Where do I live now?
Do I reside where I always have.
Lately, I can’t ever tell.

Do not resuscitate. Extinguish me!
I do not rage against it or go gently into it.
I race to my end, embracing it and chasing it

Oh, why can’t a plane just fall out of the sky
and obliterate only me?
Why can’t my lungs collapse permanently?
Always leaving just enough air to revive me
to this tortured half-life.

It’s passed my time to leave.
I’m furious for death.

At Mediocrity’s Height

This is the first poem I ever wrote, many years ago.

At Mediocrity’s Height time passes by, considerable in measure,

And my life is filled with activities of leisure.

I am the contented savage, devouring hours of pleasure, relaxation divine,

Finding an abundance of wounded time.

With the death of expectations and the birth of routine,

My soul accepts satisfaction as creativity and talent travel deep in my dreams.

At Mediocrity’s Height the lowest floor of expectation is reached,

And life’s useless projects remain incomplete.

Witness Sun and Moon passing slowly by my fate;

I will never reach their sky as envy turns to hate.

The wind beats my face invoking me to –

Wake up,

React,

Surpass self-inflicted limits,

Stop focusing on abilities I lack.

I am suffering the misery of apathy as I light a candle for my lie.

At Mediocrity’s Height one will never shine,

Rather, soar grand in the shadows of the mind.

matter

a piece of wood holding up a table
the sand in between my toes

an ornament on a Christmas tree
a leaf flying to the earth

poster board as a drippy paint brush makes the first stroke
junk sold at a yard sale

an abandoned car in a lot
colors in a rainbow translated into art

Father’s death and
fights with my siblings

Lookin’ at a picture where he still had eight years
And a photo of you when you considered me friend

The significance, swollen like a baseball, stuck in my throat
     it all matters to me yet I’m the only one.

Left feeling like I barely matter to anyone.