forget me now, and forever be it so
that you may have some outstretched hand
a tongue's tip wrapped around the
sorry mix of dull little letters that
scrape our sounds and make a name.

free me from your memories
of times impressed upon you deep
to have some recollection of
the thoughts you have of me.

release me from your
monstrous gaze, i beg of you to let it be;
the flight of love decays of days
and harmony begs of you and me

madness

of some madness I
to some degree
and to say that I am mad
is to say that you agree
when is it that you recognize some
maddening mess within me?
perhaps it borne as you asked yourself
am I mad, or isn't he?

proven

remember, my sons, when the world turns black,
the faces of those who have looked upon the triumph of a
fallacy gone flat. and
when to scoff at proposals
of such a motion
would not betray such subtle notions,
beware, beware:
the lofty pride of presumptuous fools will
bring about the rushing ground
as kingdoms crumble their own weight
beneath the air they once surround

astound

i cannot abide some
trembling throat guttering
glimpses of some things unknown
in opted ignorance rises chorus of a temple set to worship
airs of its salty breath reminiscing on some
old hypocrisy, or some obvious insecurity:
all things simple, sincere, and unsurprising,
almost upsetting in all
of its
unawares
and urgent uprisings.

but then i choke, a
sense of reaching out beyond my
place to hold,
in peaceful relation with my
spirit caste;
incapable of letting go.

perhaps it is so much our similarity
that tears us from our truest sense of
shared humanity as dearest friends,
but for some joy that never seems to see itself
in this sordid competition that will never cease to end

my

the way of things must stay the truth
in order to officiate the
distribution of the goods of which
i am privy to!

to think that i've spent quite some time in
quiet racing hoping thoughts that unfulfilled will
crown the path to some uncertain fate of mine

this sacrifice cannot be made, for the sake of
this labor unbade

but to believe my luck will change
will necessitate some concession made
and to believe my fate to chance
the sacrifice my life advanced

this this this

every wednesday cries
some hands outreach for breaking bread
but will suffice some bit of poison to pacify this
urgent dread

aggression

there is a hammer in the eye of the sky;

its gentle push when eyelids flutter in
the breeze;

rocking, swaying,

as if humming to a
beat.

and so bend,
clouds solemn, in a sullen downcast gaze;

bundled up in urge suppressed,

and mottled with some darkened hints
of undisguised irreverence.