The Cynic

I will kill the cynic.
The living-dead man of poetry
A bastard son of emotion
His calling card is “sadness”
With a preference for the cliché
A rotten corpse of art
Turning back the pages.
To which his throne rest upon a mountain
Crafted by the hands of knowledge
A tower of burning books.
Never read and not worth reading.
He is a child of The Raven
Onto which he barely understands
A heretic of the Avant-Garde
Wearing armor of sham
Crucify him on his dusty writing desk.
Tear back his tattooed flesh
Reveal the child inside
Hold her by your side



Today was to be the Jesters big day
He knew his neck was in the noose
because the gallows is where he’ll sway

Her wish is to be entertained
The Jester danced for days
He plays the Violin

Telling stories of adventure
Monsters from the best of days

The Jester didn’t have a chance
His glow was not enough

The king drops his paper
The Queen puts down her macramé

The Jester took a fall
landing on his head.

The Princess peaks from her phone
She sighs
and waves the man away
Taking a picture of the Violin
All to remember the day.


Long Island Expressway

Living on the Island
I’m stranded on a cloud
Sir Bently doesn’t cry.

Stepping to the precipice
Peering down the down the cliff
Peaking in my crows eye
O’Hare sips a mai tai.

My Nimbus scrapes a tower
A storm passes by
The air sticks of money
Vaseline in someone’s hair.

I feel the sun’s heat
But the heavens seem so dark.

I try to jump,
Maybe to my death
To the Hampton Beaches
Where dead peasants grow on trees.

But yet my chains tie me down
and the key to freedom is giving up.

This prison cell is my freedom
A delusion from the heat.


Hand With A Missing Finger

How can we help?
A hand for a hand.
Can I hold your wallet in my pocket?
Only for a moment.
Really, how can we help?
Coughing up the deluge, tie the rope up here.
Something free for the moment,
we’re hiding in the current.
You’re only hungry right now, take the smoking gun.
How can we help you? What do you want us to do?
Let us take your coat. Take off your god damned shoes.
Keep starving for that attention.
Just take our basic plan.
The pills will only hurt until forever.
Don’t let those kidney’s go to waste.
Just smash the face of the puppet.



The trees are bare this time of year
On the porch, having a cigarette
I could be drunk,
the drink plays tricks
The Earth is fake with its plastic grass
A woman rushes to her car
The moon has conquered the sky
Thunder above our heads,
Ice and fire
She waits for the warmth before she moves
She isn’t real.
I should have worn a warmer jacket
I’m assuming that it’s cold
Buzzing is in my head
Cars are whizzing down the road
My silence is filled
Tipping over my old beer
It was warm when I sat down
The sun has been gone for years
A time that’s more painful than the rest.



Reflecting on the time in a mirror made of granite
She pulls at her skin, trying to catch the worms
A shelf of binding, twisting in the dust
Waiting for an owl, a professor lost in time
The mass candle in her window
A burning rose blossoms from its wick
Temptation bleeding out her teeth
Her wedding gown tied around her neck
With a band tugging on her tongue
Her mother’s body in the closet
She steals her polished shoes
Scratching at the granite mirror
Bleeding from the knuckles
Warping her imperfections
Painting on a smile.
She leaves for her big day.


Black Pearl Eyes

Shaken in the silence,
A hollow bird flies in
It kisses her lips,
Whatever shall she do?
A taste of black honey.
The skin crawls across the floor.
Candles screaming in the shadows.
Black is now a shade of blue.
The bird is on her shoulder.
Singing songs that sound like nothing.
He wonders what to do.
Fire breaks the grey.
Red beats back the black.
Feathered clouds about the room.



Severed Fingers

How can we help? A hand for a hand. An eye for an eye.
Can I hold your wallet in my pocket?
Only for a moment. How can we help?
Coughing up the deluge, can we tie the rope up here?
Somethings free for the moment, while we hide this odd current.
You’re only hungry now, take the gun.
Shall I take my coat.

Starving for attention? Heres our basic plan.
The pills only hurt forever, kidneys cant go to waste.


Forever Climbing

I find myself climbing up a sheer cliff
No matter how high I climb, there’s always more to the story
My body is sore from the journey
My eyes want to rest
I’ll just stop for a minute
I’ll feel the weightlessness for only a short time
I can see the ground far bellow me
People swinging hooks, aiming for my back
They land deep and pull down hard
I find myself climbing up a sheer cliff
The clouds cover up the peak
I think I’ve stopped bleeding
I’m starting to refuse to sneak a peak and look down at the world.


My Endless Wonder

For what feels like forever now
something has been setting me up for failure
for the longest time now, I’ve been watching the seasons change
Time has left me unchanged.
and for the longest time now I’ve been left to wonder
With the news sharing consistent fear.
the sick running rampant and things aren’t getting better.
Overrated colleges looking to grow their business
a mortifying outlook for the rest of us

For what feels like forever
people don’t want to get better.
unless I pay you for a smile
And it has left me to wonder
whats changing for the better?

Witness To Majesty

I feel disgusted


It’s sweet and cold

Like the coffee, I am forgetting

Sundrenched faces

Driven by dumb conversation


I’m not okay with this.

Famous for a dollar

Drinking down the rubber.
Turning all the tables

Machiavellian with your terms

I can’t read anymore.

I feel disgusting


Monochromatic colors

Being used with words and numbers

Schumpeter’s gale

For when we’re out of ideas.

Reading In The Park

A homeless man sings in the park
Groundsmen dig a ditch
A breeze rips through his hair
Thin and long, slicked back in grease
Garbage is swirling up
The trash dancing as he sings
While his speakers blare hymns
A goose is crying
Smashed and broken by the pond
Hissing at joggers
Sheltering her from harm
A jogger trips on the speaker
An on-looker claps and laughs
The hymns cut out
Church bells replace the sound
The homeless man drops to his knees
Face buried in his hands