#1
(titled unrelated)

They have a sly way of
entrancing my thoughts as
they twirl on my slender, yellow fingers
and slide across my tongue.

The moisture gathers on my
lips and deepens the shades and tones;
dripping expressionism on a couch
in a morning light throne.

Eyes wide in relaxation;
Anxiety, meet thy grave in
the ceiling fan blades.

I kick myself out of
sleep with ten shots of
caffeine direct to my brain
on the pink-electric train
on the coffee grounds.

While the grease pops
and the egg browns
I wonder why my free time is
spent too often alone.

Free time I use to
exercise mathematical equations
on a grimy guitar in
a thick haze of sound
or to write my legalities
in formal English that relates
minutely to poetry.

With nutrition in my
stomach acid I proceed on
my day-long battle against the
contemplation of murder, starting with
a fast paced walk to a jail
for seven hours
They
ain't gonna
Learn them no
beatnik.

The memorial eyes of dead dreams
manifest emotions so well.
We never notice though;
we are to scared to face them
half of the time
because
we spend all our free time
alone.

Friends go crazy
and kick you out of your
sleep with ten shots of
anger and hatred direct to
your heart with beady eyes in
sunken-emotions on faces.
Enemies are friends who
adopt the philosophy that you have to
push others off the cliff to save them.

Friends go crazy
Life goes on
(alone)

I go forget about it all
in a deep fantastic sleep
that feels like every
nerve is being massaged, mutilated
and pumped with morphine
Then I kick myself out of sleep
and have a cup of blueberries.
Last edited by hippieboy444 at Aug 26, 2009,