Nostalgia Human Poems

- in those moments, it shines.
The nostalgia of an upside down
world glinting up through hourglasses of years,
a mark impressed upon flesh; a scar harbouring
simple childhood...

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I had a happy childhood at first
Yeah I played with dolls to a tragic
Extent. It was a dream of some
Type of female existence.  I...

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you must be a human with no GMO tag
you must know that skin is just a bag 
you must know that superficial beauty is a...

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All those movie characters
Crying in the shower
Definitely staged
But guess not
Short fits of panic
Fizzing in the steam
My lifelike dreams
Scare me
Waking up
Between dreams
To realize
You were never there...

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Remember when times were so hard
Families could barely make ends meat
But if a stranger came too your door
He’d be offered something to eat

Getting into a...

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Keys hold their notes once danced over with fingers,
coffee cup scents still linger, long after a last sip.

Trees stand when leaves wilt,
clouds form when rain...

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human groove

all the rush
to see the results,
all the goosebumps
and the cooing breath

the ruffled sheets
in a muted mornings light,
an open window out
to all the world’s rites

the...

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The etching point
Of emotion-
A dark plate
For splash of light-
Stillness the contrast…
Tintype-a human heart…

I have an old Tintype,
A soldier and his lovely lady;
Radiant a pair as...

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From the time of creation
Adam was brainwashed into
 Believing that he was the brainiac
Behind the Garden of Eden fictions

 Women got tired of men carefree...

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Startled to awakening,
blinds raised in reverent slumber,
  star-struck ghosts with sewn-up mouths
shine and moan, they've got my number.

The sun went super-nova,
lens flared into dark...

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Insidiously instructing ignorance inserted into him, now handed down to them, 
he preaches to his quire of bemused brethren. “Dispose of you all your belongings...

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I am left with the human wreckage of my life,
My baggage of bones and clutter, spectres and desire
To slaver around and haunt me until it...

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I can’t walk out on this feeling,
The fat lady has just about sung the
Ultimate aria of her own selfish pain and loss.
The duality of my...

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I can’t walk out on this feeling, 
Cigarette burns phantom-project onto
The backs of my hands like leprosy, 
Hackles rise on the nape of my neck,...

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I can’t walk out on this feeling;
Sharpened wings of a broken Cessna clip
The meanings of my speech and thoughts,
Shearing off jagged chunks of dialectic as...

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