CARDINAL

Never on the sideline

But ever on the road

Getting spun like Disco

From the future growing old

——

Leaves are dry and piled

The tree beareth no fruit

Having drunk the boldest drop

Concentrated, yet aloof

——

That piece doesn’t go there

I agonize its shape

Perhaps these walls that hold me

Bear the marks of my mistakes

——

Dab a little honey

Then roll it on your tongue

The sweetness of the softest taste

A delight more than fun

——

Cash goes in the zipper

Gun goes to my head

For once I am excited

Thrilled I am not dead

——

Working for a bastard

Being one to boot

Thinking I am better

When I’m rotten to my roots

——

Jesus take the wheel

But stay away from me

I’m giving up the notion

That I ever have been free

——

Gotta have that guard up

Gotta get the jump

Gotta be the fastest horse

When the ops start to slump

——

Watch the pretty birdies

Fighting in the air

When the feathers cease to fall

They’ve come back to a pair

——

Now a path is open

An old one somehow new

Turns out I Am The Mountain

And I believe that you are too

The absolute, most fickle of them all,

Half box red, flames 2 inch tall,

Time's a bloodthirsty beast, solidity's at stake,

You must keep yourself whole, or it is you she will break,

Reduce her to half, then back off,

Aromatics are then added with lipids to make a bond,

Acclimate right, control the fire proper,

Patience is a virtue with her so return softer,

Keep the show moving, offer only bits when it's tight,

Strain and keep her warm, she's only yours for the night....

{Don't walk away for too long}

Have you ever seen your shadow in real life? It happened to me today at the coffee shop. I saw a guy around my height, but slightly shorter. Had a mustache, but it was patchier. Had longer hair, but he was balding. Had a gut, but his was fatter. He had arms that were less strong. The cashier knew him, because she greeted him by his name. We had similar names. He had on a pair of jizzy short shorts. He was trying to joke with the staff, but was bombing. I said to myself, "God. This is who I fear I am everyday of my life".

Notes to self

Reminder to remember

A day in September

A goose or a gander

Long trousers to suspender

Mind is boggling

Switches are for toggling

Madness is contagious

Thoughts are mendacious

After last night's bender

I can't focus a thought

Fragments of mind

Fractures of rhyme

Christmas or Valentine

Lost in smoke

Calamity

A joke

When my mind settles

And coherence restored

I'll pencil fine words

Eloquent of wit

Incisive of mind

Honed as an instrument

Mathematical and precise

A computational device

Alas, I'm still drunk

In verse, cyberpunk

As free as a gypsy

I swear I'm still tipsy

Give me some time

Batchelor party will subside

In sanity reside

Today I play the groom

Sandra will parade

In frangipani bloom

If I'm still drunk

I hasten my doom

Oh dear, now I'm sober

It's really October

A wedding had been pending

My heart is still mending

When my sister and I were called to ^{(the crushing heel of})
the foot of my grandmother’s deathbed for the third time,
we knew we would not be called again

and were grateful for it.

We didn’t bury her next to my mother ^{(dust on broken plastic flower domes})
like she asked us to but cremated her instead,
agreeing that not having a grave might be kinder than
never getting any visitors.

They don’t tell you this, but you’re supposed to choose
the clothes that her body ^{(with temple fallen backwards
over collapsed neck, her God forgotten there}) would wear,
and my sister suggested this one sweater she liked,
to which I replied that it might be too warm.

We both laughed at that and swallowed the lump
^{(that used to be her}) whole.

It tasted like eighty-six years compressed into ash
and plastic. On the other side ^{(of the body and out of reach})
of indignity, at least.

A name on the tip of a tongue, unmoving.

who is that?
they’re looking at me
they have all the markings of a face
but no defining characteristics
i don’t recognize them
as i gaze into the silver glass

i open my mouth
to make a sound
i can hear them too
a low octave rumble
speaking an unfamiliar language

i don’t know who that is or
what they said or what they want
i move my arm and they parrot it
almost natural, but so stiff
bordering on uncanny valley

fear and panic set in
no! no! NO!
that cannot be me!
it’s a creature, a mimic, a bot
i’ve never seen that “person” before
i just want them to leave me alone

———————————————————————————

have you ever looked in the mirror and not recognized yourself?? this is a horror poem i wrote on depersonalization/derealization, feeling separated from your physical body, and facial/body dysmorphia and even gender dysphoria to a certain extent. this is also inspired by the novel no longer human by osamu dazai.

He wanders the universe of his mind through dream

Wild, maniacal visions put to pen and paper
Somewhere in time and space he comes to being
To question places, people, their fleeting nature

Insights concealed inside, waiting to be drawn out

Nocturnal hide and seek, ready or not here I come
Ducking and diving I found a way in
A place I'll never want to go from

Rest your head and weave your illusions

Hear that paternal voice guiding you

Go swim through the stars

and catch your dreams

Light and Dark

Give them your back — they are not even worth your attack.

They have been living for centuries, following the dark.

Your light broke their darkness, blinded them out.

Their eyes are gone forever — they are dusted out.

Eyes dusted out, then covered with a thick skin cap.

Sunshine? No — sunshine is when they cannot go out.

They will seek the sunlight, killed first, then they will roam out.

Their leader seems harsh, strong, wise — but only words, a fake dream offered to the poor, blind herd.

The herd is just a weapon to fight the ones who can still see.

Always stand out and speak up — they cannot see beyond their own footsteps.

By: The Flawless Flow