The Thrill of Cheap Words

The words of kin
Stroll away
From their reckless lips

Burdening my ears
With their piercing
Toll of disdain

I grow lifeless and firm
In their cold
Blackened swill

Beneath hapless notions
Coiling and crushing
My lone call to arise

My skull overflows
With the worries and whims
Of faceless passersby

With the frayed songs
Of perfect strangers
I am full and sick
On their boundless
First-world sorrows


In Merciful Dreams Alone

How terribly I miss
Their thunderous roll
The heartfelt blare
Encaged in summer’s past

These present roads differ
Into a dreadful
Sick-inspiring gulch

Where malady
Is faithfully pungent
At home
In its sweltering squalor

In merciful dreams alone
These memories fight on
With the heartbeat
Of former vigor and joy

How they wage war
With deathly poise
And precision

Staving off
The fog
The woeful grey
Of my time

My Few Humble Words

I derail humanity
With dormant words
Overrun and battered
By the treads of many before

Tattered roads
Run hopelessly

In each verse I spawn
By the hasty labor
Of a quill’s lightening edge

My words
So seldom stray
For the waiting coils
Of fondness and favor

For they hold no bounty
No truth-bearing cause
To be firmly held
Or greatly revered

New World Overtures

New world harmonies
Devour, my every
Ache and want

Slithering fondly
For my inner whirlwind
Of ceaseless peril

To disband
The wretched
Hell-spawned fury
In young
And heartfelt strife

The remedy calls
With defiant zeal
A noxious
All-consuming dream

The conqueror
The retriever
Of my desperate, beckoning
Cold and wayward hopes

The World’s Uprooting Hand

We were soluble
Thoughtfully dissolved
In our scalding swill
Of young affection

Beyond the world’s
Uprooting hand
Its deathly whim
And callous resolve

We were
So gladly immersed
As aimless prey
To our swift
And hungry regrets

Prowling faithfully
In heated pursuit
Of our joyous
And tender years

In the Woeful Bloody Dawn

I awoke
With jagged
And splintered roots
In ancestral red

At the scornful
And deathly whim
Of my full
And burdensome heart

Hefty words
Fell away
In wide
And fearful droves

On the cusp
Of my cautiously plotting
Guilt-ridden lips

What remained
Was entombed
In my shadowy psyche

As I bled
Through the day
So seemingly
Cool and composed

The Outlier

Becoming the outlier
Of my own
Raw and tattered flesh

I was hardly fearful
In the grand, quiet
And strange endeavor

From the lumbering vessel
Of skin, gristle and bone

In a stern
Piercing, blank glance
My unraveling was swift
My undoing was sure

Sent afar
Enrobed, in a blissful haze
As my flesh grew dull
Grey and numb

Beneath the Untroubled World

Sewn shut
I can do no harm
With the harbored demons
The grief, I thoughtlessly dispense

Bottled up
For the greater good
My dreams discolor
Enthralled, by their tune of death

On the brink
And plagued with despair

The world
Shall fearlessly

Upon solace
I hardly know

In flight
From the snares
Of my faithful
And tireless screams

Swollen With Panic and Vitriol

I sway in the sharp turns
As the engine revs
And veers with little concern

Is beyond my helpless reach
As I endure
The treacherous swerves

Whilst growing sick
With vitriol
Swollen and red
To a loud and fiery brink

Is swift
To thieve me of faithful ground

To lead my form
Toward the certain doom
Of a lustful, ardent furnace

Where my entirety
Shall surely disband
In hateful, scalding fragments

To slip
Into a cold remorse

Thoughtfully, listing
At the toll
Of the day’s farewell

The Dream-Afflicted Fool

I am bound
Bashful and battered
A tottering wretch
The bleary-eyed
Dream-afflicted fool

True to a silence
Spawned, in the horror
The fiery bedlam
Of his waking years

With eyes
Forever sewn to earth
Heaving through time
In the home
Of his fraying seams

Yet doubtful
In silent panic

Yet slothful
In eternal distress