A theater of blood be my necklace
A theater of bosom me own thirst it quail thy credit, a critic Julius the rat Caesura
Be it brow a common line yet me pardon tis greatly. Be is me oh Julius be narrow
Shout lithium be measured it be as impetus bade me obey the lying Herodbloatmenotinenequirehe
Partialmediocrities ibeg be it glistened meat asanaxe
dearpoisonous
Julietbebadedeathmewaterisnoone
it provisorsmeekyetskulldoneliquidifyme
Endusplagueitdoesme ripe itmecauldron
vi fire it my stone my liquid castor bake
Measleditfryhowdoessheicastit ROmeoa now disposed itquenchlestit beforgotten begotten page
A larceny be my gloat poisonyetmeaskoxdespiseyetitforgiven
memandrakefastshedote fever it me my ownlaughter isyet
twostoneishebame
How vehement his thoughts winning the realm,
so, thus venomous the success became.
Bitter —the taste of power and the helm,
yet sweet; until thy honesty got maim.
Mediocrities —get up to the bones,
devastates entrustment without exempt.
Anomie stands indelible —in zones,
solemnly results in beneath contempt.
Animus capitalized for sole greed,
it will scar your demeanor —well indeed.
To chase a dream some dare to do,
While others their mediocrities still pursue.
These dream chasers are in the others’ minds,
A group of people of the stranger kind.
One must wonder as this phenomenon is observed,
How is it that they into “strangeness” have swerved?
To have nothing to aim for while growing old,
Does not make one wise or bold.
For reachable goals all should aspire,
And reap the reward before they expire.
A goal sought for, even if missed,
Is a thing that none should ever resist.
So set your sights on a noble end,
And persevere though the road may bend.
Never, ever, a quitter be,
From that temptation repeatedly flee.
I stand (almost)
One hundred ten pounds
Soaking wet.
Round up numbers
(In the same manner cobras unfold their hood;
How Monarchs, unroyal to a fault,
Bear their false eyes like liver spots)
And reject medical doctors' idiosyncratic philosophies
Repeating: the body, it is ninety percent water,
Repeating: that isn't a credible conclusion--
"No, I'm mostly just ink. Honest."
A phone rings
Echoing in a hollow office.
A pen scratches
And I think "mediocrities."
Walls rush towards my ant-self:
I choke on the pills.
The beginning and end is choice
Choice is the power of decision,
Brother to destiny, sister to success
Brother to mediocrities, father of failure
Wrapper of success and failure
Upon every parcel it's written-'choose me'
Success or failure, Kindness or bitterness
Love or hate, heaven or hell
Recommendation or condemnation
A glare or stare, pearl or pierce
A crown or a cry
THE CHOICE IS YOURS.
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