Kill the spark
the fire dies
Mute one voice
and Poets cry
Kill the larva
kill the host
Burn your bridges
— post by post
(Dreamsleep: July, 2025)
my arms remained open,
but you were no where to be found.
I tried ignoring you and the blood that claimed we were bound.
retreat is a step away but my feet won't listen,
inflated with loneliness I questioned you from that glass you glistened.
you never answered.
still with open arms,
I asked you who you were,
I demanded your core,
but was given a value holding an unknown value.
I was given nothing.
disappointed and disgusted you bathed me in pity and grief,
like some stinking skeptical stray.
with wide open arms,
I won't await your response,
meet me on the highway to success,
maybe the name I carve for myself shall glimmer,
maybe I'll simmer on your exquisite outline,
even so my desire shall not be quenched.
What is the square root of time,
what is a moment devolved from itself
What is the relative quotient of dreams,
tomorrow unspoken—lost inbetween
(Dreamsleep: December, 2020)
I don’t believe in Jesus,
I don’t believe in Buddha,
I don’t believe in Allah,
I don’t believe in Zeus
I don’t believe in Fairy Tales,
I don’t believe in Santa,
I don’t believe in Unicorns
I don’t believe Dr. Seuss
I don’t believe in Proverbs,
I don’t believe the Gospels,
I don’t believe in Dharma
I don’t believe their Creeds
But I do believe in Beauty,
I do believe in Truth,
I do believe in Love,
And—I do believe in me
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2020)
Imperfection...
—the DNA within every art form
(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2018)
essentia,
through
cunning marrow
she will lay duplicate constellations
in the thick
of wolves tears
violent,
belly-swelling siren
of temperate black tide
liberating this crazy-kittens smile
like a wounded deer
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