Come Bathe With Me

on this day, the Year of our Lord 2017, the 8th day of a month with no meaning

even after all this time here on this planet, I can still feel the deepdark sticky-icky clinging to my skin and mucking up my soul

truths untold. pure lies unfold.

unfolding on a tapestry made of the hair follicles falling from my head from stresses that need not to exist
i guess you could say i’m pissed

Anger, an emotion so powerful, it’s hard to resist
but to admit that such an emotion is necessary goes against every lesson i’ve been taught since birth

on days like this, i wish The Sun would shine, so bright it’d make me color blind
but the grey overcast skies offers little more than the hope that Our Lord will cry and rain down upon us, upon me

i’d stand in the downpour, wearing whatever fragments of cloth i happen to be wearing at the time, face up
the Holy Liquid dripping and flowing over my face, blinding me in a way-
not color blind
but leaving me, us, caught in time
human eyes closed, 3rd eye open, seeing things beyond…

ah but alas. on this day, i see no calmness from The Sun nor The Water

only grey.

in times like this, it is unfair to expect Mother Nature to give us everything needed at any given moment. She is busy, extremely overworked; and if recent events plaguing the U.S. and the rest of the world is any indication, she’s fed up and tired.

can’t say i blame her.

its time that i, we, make our own Holy Liquid to purify that deepdark sticky-icky
that affects us all, whether or not you’re aware of it

like a stranger in moscow, i’m still trying. trying to figure out how to break this curse mankind has created for itself. Mother Nature may have the answers, but we, mortals, don’t stand a chance of what’s to come.

UNLESS

we find our own way of purification. somehow i, We, have to get Mother Nature to trust us again.
but how….?

if i could i would give you the answers
but all i can do
is just offer you
this chance

to come bathe with me

Daily prompt:     Crescendo

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Climb Abored

an anchor, 7 stories high & twice the tons

passengers without tickets shuffle up the stairs uninvited

i’ve got many guns. time to play Russian Roulette

oh you think i don’t? then what’s this?

.       .       .

everyone’s quiet now.

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM

shooting blanks. everyone’s delighted.

most of them clapping their hands, enjoying the spectacle, gay as can be

it’s all a circus

& then a man as tall as a hundred year old tree

walks up to me

& says: “perhaps you should relax. you gave me and some others quite a fright”

poor fools. they don’t even know the caliber of plight afoot

i toss the the useless weapons overboard. they clang against a wooden platform down below & are picked up by a group of rowdy teenagers, whom hoot & holler and run off into an alley with their new toys

we’re still at shore.

i sigh a heavy sigh. i wasn’t looking for death, just something more

for i know…

i find my cabin lodgings easily, at the very top of the ship

leaving the other passengers to do as they please

folding my hoodie into the drawer, kicking my shoes off under the bed

accepting the via blasé of what’s to come

for i know…

an anchor, 7 stories high & twice the tons

we aren’t going anywhere
not anymore

Starvation

when you can never get enough food to eat bc of your metabolism & the horrors of capitalism 

when you can never hear enough compliments bc your low self esteem keeps tossing them aside

when each day feels the same as the last bc of the same old shiz 

when you’re ready to quit climbing the mountain you’re on & just fall into the sea 

that’s when you compose a post

just to see

how many others are just as hungry 

as me

just to see

how many others aren’t free

Piercing Slit

twist & stick the blade in
over & over & over again
as my crimson flows down into the wastebin
I’m sure you’ll mark this down as a win

but as I remember
who I was and who I am
over time I realized
my life force has intensified by getting to know you

No, not you.
YOU
the only One can who can truly rule in this sacred land

so keep twisting if you must
I feel no pain
as long as I side with the truth, I can only gain
the power fantastic
the power to give love one more try

even as my crimson flows
I know because You
I know I can never truly die

via Daily Prompt: Puncture

Sleep, We’ve Been Over This Before…

a neverending nightmare
like a toxic case of a deep down ugly spell
whittling away at my health points in a role playing game

sleep is, once again, becoming less a temporary break from the ridiculous nature of our collective consciousness that we are forced to participate in & becoming more of a continuation of the same, that I have no control over

sleep
oh, how my dreams mock me
broadcasting my failures & teasing me with optimistic subliminal images of what could, should, happen in the future
a remote in my hand that doesn’t work
involuntarily watching what ever happens to be on

like a bird in flight snapping its neck against a squeaky clean window
it’s getting harder to know if I’m going the right way

sleep
please just let me rest
that’s all I have to say

Neutrality

middle of the road
not particularly memorable
& not all that interesting either

Oh, that’s familiar.

minor background character in everyone else’s lives

try chewing the scenery! improvise! go off the script!

the secret’s out. there’s no script.

the main conflict in the main story line in at least several different stories at a time

Best make your own script
‘less you want to get stuck in someone else’s shit

shit-dick from butt-bumping the ground, Le Grind
a place you ain’t meant to fit

purple holly, so legit
you’ve got my mind so whipped
that my hips just dip
& grip
and whip up a fury in the sea

category 5

get right to the point
right when the moment is the most crucial

I just fade to grey…

Baby
I guess I’m just neutral.

via Daily Prompt: Tender

Usurped

where is the cure?

that’ll make you see me as pure
that’ll take all my ugliness
& plunge it into space

maybe it’s because I’m the wrong race
maybe there’s too many imperfections on my face
perhaps my very being is a disgrace
forget about the past, I’m done with that place

but now I can’t seem to hit the right notes
what key am I even in?

it’s anyone’s guess
when did it all turn into such a huge stinking mess?

it became such a charade
a fantastical shit show parade
may as well make a toast with expired strawberry lemonade

where is the cure?

to stop the tears from my eyes
from falling upon what was once a daily beautiful surprise
but turned out to be merely a guise

tears, turning the Earth’s dirt into mud
caked under the crevices of your black Adidas
with a final, sickening thud