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

The Performer

Hi, nice to see you. I’m doing quite well thanks for asking. And yourself? Well that is simply fascinating, you should save that story for dinner parties! ‘Kay I’m gonna go now bye. Be sure to tip the bartender for me.

one facade to the next, not even thinking to rest

Thank you so much for calling this hotline of underpaid workers to help you with something or whatever, this is The Performer, how can I help you? Shove these papers up my ass, you say? Well, it wasn’t really in job description but hell, half the crap I do around here isn’t in there either, so why not? Clocking out, see ya tomorrow.

The cell phone lights up.

Before another fresh coat of paint is plastered by an invisible makeup team on to match the appropriate human emotion expected in whatever situation The Performer finds themselves in

there’s a notion of despair
about how many layers can be caked on
before the foundation implodes?

Yes, I love you too.

and what face would be underneath?

maybe something to closer thine higher self

Oh save me Buddha !
Jesus!
Krishna!
Leviathan!

*phone static*

a choir sings from above:

**”Come to me

Ravish me

I’ll liberate your mind”

Hmm…

Oh Great Whatever you are, how much more proof do I need to show before you believe I’m ready?

In this human kind, this condition, the mind can handle so many questions at once
to find a tailormade suit that fits only them

caught in the limbo

with a daunting glance, The Performer has no chance
to ponder about what could possibly free them from

Another coat, another color

The clock moves on, matter of fact

so on to the next Act





**reworded song lyrics from “Anna Stesia” by Prince

Nevermore

if I don’t think about the fact that I’m in solitary
pretend to not see hellfire in the skies
ignore the accusations of heresy

Nevermore

to say otherwise would be blasphemy
‘cuz this is the best day of my life

if i ignore that i feel half as free as before

flipping through several volumes of dictionaries in desperation
to find a way to define the deep down dark icky leaking & splashing about inside
blurring the world upsidedown, spinning the wrong way ’round
feels like a bad case indigestion at the very least.

Nevermore

for i declare

THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE

When The Music Stops

when the music stops…
last note from the last song fades into the background
the album’s spin is through…

that’s when you hear the sound
of an echo turning blue

then you feel the freeze
colder than the arctic

silence

a lead-footed frost nips at your ears
’cause there’s no sound
to muffle the splashing of your tears

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