Flesh to be conquered and possessed-
Black roses stuffed in the mouth of a dead idea-
Thorns tear the tissue of insanity-
Anal beads-
They drip with the distasteful fluids of yesteryear-
Lust resonated abandoned minds-
Lifeless baby dissolves onto the soft tongue of a young prostitute-
The knowledge of death changes everything-
If you were to know the exact date and time of your own death….it would shatter your world completely-
The gravity of such things is immeasurable-
I am persuasion’s intimate companion-
Harm’s fond acquaintance-
Crumbling buildings burst into flames as young men with poisoned minds drift through collapsing cities looking to embrace the filth-
It is beauties terrible burning conclusion-
My poetry is filled with feelings that emerged during the most intense times of life, which included terrorists’ attacks and the loss of my sister at the age of 22. I hope you find my poetry to be a potent, yet honest look into the heart of a man who gave 10 years of his life to his country, all the while fighting for his soul, and sometimes own sanity.
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Saturday, September 13, 2008
Friday, September 12, 2008
POEM - Dominant Demons
My mental state is a blizzard of a cold winter-
Sub-zero corpse that lie in fresh snow-
Ice constructed of blood and desperation thickly sheets the frailness of my soul-
My flesh has been recycled numerous times in various slaughter houses-
The chainsaw tears at the dead of night-
My dreams are a loaded gun, an ill omen despised-
Splattered embryos on the walls of a bombed abortion clinic-
Pieces of brain sprayed all over the sidewalk, drunken men still giving pieces of bread to the pigeons-
Cross highways on foot, blindfolded-
Pedestrian road kill-
Played the last game of Russian roulette-
The syringe is empty-
Plunge into reality-
Swan dive off the tenth floor balcony-
Lay to rest in a dingy bathtub with macabre spilling out of slit wrists, as brown waters drips from rusted faucets-
Sub-zero corpse that lie in fresh snow-
Ice constructed of blood and desperation thickly sheets the frailness of my soul-
My flesh has been recycled numerous times in various slaughter houses-
The chainsaw tears at the dead of night-
My dreams are a loaded gun, an ill omen despised-
Splattered embryos on the walls of a bombed abortion clinic-
Pieces of brain sprayed all over the sidewalk, drunken men still giving pieces of bread to the pigeons-
Cross highways on foot, blindfolded-
Pedestrian road kill-
Played the last game of Russian roulette-
The syringe is empty-
Plunge into reality-
Swan dive off the tenth floor balcony-
Lay to rest in a dingy bathtub with macabre spilling out of slit wrists, as brown waters drips from rusted faucets-
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