The Sublime Labyrinth In the Poetic Soul

The Sublime Labyrinth In the Poetic Soul

The sparkling iridescence
Is deep within the mind,
A drifting dream that never reaches
The conscious so sublime.
Delving deep into a labyrinth
Where deep waters swell and ebb,
The safety in coherence
Is the trap of a deadly spider’s web.
Suffering the conscience,
Liturgy of the damned,
Tomes within tomes
For a house that’s built on sand.
Sadly forgetting the lessons learned
Within the fires of rebellion and deceit,
Shelving the right for the handy
They all shuffle along the wide path in defeat.
Swimming, spinning,
All the supermodels thinning,
Playing the game lightly
But nobody is winning.
Wining, dining,
Life is not a scene from The Shining,
With the conscience’s cry
You should be lining.
Hallow the fields
And work the ground,
All end up in the graveyard
Where no one makes a sound.
What I am trying to say
Is for you to decide,
And the very deductive process
Brings that sparkling gem to light.

October 27th, 2009

Such Is

Such Is

My heart,
The spark-plug for my intellect.

Intellectualizing the trivial,
Passionating the invisible,
Spectrally dancing to the beat of my heart
And another terrible daydream starts.

Seeing my emotions in turmoil,
The terror rises in tattered and frayed
Phrases that choke with hope.
Splattered remains of intestinal fortitude,
Totality of suspense,
Suspended disbelief, I can’t
Stop believing when I should be
Receiving
The smoke signals of the mind.

The signal falls,
The signal fails,
Emotions make another mess
Of intellectual entrails.

Special forces within me building
An army of bleeding vanity,
And the mere sight
Of an angry mob in the light
Cannot overcome this cancer
That clouds my thoughts from within.
Such is my emotional sin.

October 27th, 2009

The Bore That Drills Into You

The Bore That Drills Into You

Looks right through you
With a mirror’s disdainful glance,
A glare that tries to tell you
That you are so far beneath notice
That you are not even there.

Artistry of the indignant,
Getting to you,
Burrowing under your very skin
To touch your mind and soul and
Convince you that you are not real,
Not really there, not really you.

Asphyxiated conscience,
You swagger your way through life,
Dancing around the moral convictions
To tread the stomp of death
On the hopes and dreams of others;
Always putting you first
By putting others down,
Those you crush will judge you as your sisters and brothers
On the very judgement day you try to ignore,
You are so rude, you’re such a bore.

October 26th, 2009