Tag: ramjet poetry

dark poetry, hereticsloversmadmen.com, poem, Poems, poet, Poetry, Prose, ramjet poetry8 Comments

In Titled

oldepunk

hey, man you should know I am sick two parables of pleasure and an incision mouth banking on the fairway I would sail away into the sun if I could sale. get off the ground this high is so low nurse that sorrow it urges you to think pull that trigger wired shut in the open I can touch your words we are all free range children I smell your fears that sublimate from tones of tears, tearing across this gulf, between engulfing us old bones chatter rummy and gin, oh that sweet sin nerves chained in furious laughter those … Continue reading In Titled

dark poetry, hereticsloversmadmen.com, poem, Poems, poet, Poetry, Prose, ramjet poetry, Sudden Denouement, Uncategorized32 Comments

Promethean

oldepunk

I’m cold as rain Pain is my home this sound of Armageddon grey tremors abound feeling for some meaning as we watch eclipse Pain is my home sun is in the sky there is a roof over my head and a tomb in which I lie It drips icicles of fire into my veins and I lay upon a pyre breathe in my smoking remains Pain is my home hither it comes, tearing me down I feel it again recourse in your gaze we acquiesce to fear and what’s to be highlands awash with our regrets weather comes crashing in … Continue reading Promethean

poem, Poems, poet, Poetry, ramjet poetry, Uncategorized18 Comments

E, clip, see

oldepunk

I told myself I would write but there’s nothing to say the whore at my core says to go fuck something but I don’t have what it takes to go to war today the sun goes dark in the park I watch and wait for the Hand of God to crush all of this disease into a neutron star I don’t think he will but I must be patient ’cause I do not think he’s far ponder push plush plundering pulverizing prideful personal passions preponderant, perforation pleasures pause, pun, passive in passing puking porous published politics please, prequel perplexing Pacmans … Continue reading E, clip, see

Poems, poet, Poetry, ramjet poetry, Uncategorized20 Comments

Dark Moniker

oldepunk

deft, and I am deaf christen the noble night unfettered truth runs freely far and away I creep slipshod for the nonce waving pitch black monikers I pick a name that means blood on the pavement caress internal incest those games that are played behind the closed door rickshaw me to the next gambler’s den and when we arrive I fail to see the birth of my death or the beginning of your end neither suits this ignoble deed by murder we go and all for show I lust after the rotting lies you brought in from the cold we … Continue reading Dark Moniker

poem, Poems, poet, Poetry, ramjet poetry, Uncategorized28 Comments

Ring Of Hemlock

oldepunk

I arrive in time to forget to gather myself for the fall oak, leaf, ash, hemlock Sacred pushing and pulling, seismic the grip of adulation I coalesce the notions of ardor gather and weave the wreath of Tristan and Gwenhwyfar armor burnished the colours of morning forests and rolling hill the mists are dew on my tongue but not to beguile, lo to harken unto maiden fair laissez faire, drift upon cloaked clouds of her breath and seek harbor in her breast as an embraced ideal of peace as equals, in part to impart the bond of love so deep … Continue reading Ring Of Hemlock

poem, Poems, poet, Poetry, Prose, ramjet poetry, Sudden Denouement, Uncategorized24 Comments

Taste of Dust

oldepunk

World’s twin bastions wounded phoenixes ridden by shadows plummet on evil wind casting thunder into cloudless sky a quaking of steel roots and iron limbs downtown sandstorm in the boroughs the taste of dust and ashes in my mouth Pulverulent colossi groaning from the bloody hands of undead men,  tainting a loving belief seek with daggers of speed to murder those pictures of an ideal The hymn of great sorrows mirrored in every home victims and heroes all lay down that eve in burial shroud the taste of tears and ashes in our mouths And where do good men seek … Continue reading Taste of Dust

poem, Poems, poet, Poetry, Prose, ramjet poetry, Uncategorized20 Comments

Sarajevo

oldepunk

only the good die young, she said, on her way to Sarajevo I saw her face again in a former life. As the rain spatters against my window pane I am reminded of the love which left a stain that just don’t wash away. As she walked away, I felt a tidal wave, I dreamed this day, but in the dream it did not go this way but that’s life I guess I know. Flying cranes and paper planes remind of her voice it was like swimming in the daffodils and surrendering to all you fought against I wish there … Continue reading Sarajevo

Poems, poet, Poetry, Prose, ramjet poetry, Uncategorized30 Comments

make Believe

oldepunk

Kiss kiss and make-believe. Former slaves no longer free. That’s not me. I am not free to be. One or three. Coarse touches in loving hate. Touching my body but not my face. Clean the plate and do not be late to the falling of the city gates. Wrap yourself in flags and olive leaf. I still do not believe. Conceive the intricacies in which to populate the morning news hypocrisies. More or less punctuating the state of our loose skin and crumbling facade disease. Unease creeps up into the playground of the democracies. Where we go and what we … Continue reading make Believe

poem, Poems, poet, Poetry, ramjet poetry, Uncategorized16 Comments

Live Mi

oldepunk

The cannibals have eaten All of the good choices Beseech the gladhanders Upon the beach of glamour One shoe too large One sock too small Selling all the lamest fashion At the brand new unnecessary shopping mall Overpaying spoilt youth to be rude To the people who need the work the punishment rarely meets a crime the shine is off poor dustbin grins the Tower is crumbling and the mad scramble for bread boxers boxing in boxers with martial art run from the wind and rain I’m feeling something here some may call it pain some may call it a … Continue reading Live Mi

poem, Poems, poet, Poetry, Prose, Uncategorized7 Comments

Pursuits

oldepunk

mundane pursuits take care of my own exercise my right I do not condone ever all the whispers sibilant seductive rants I wonder, wandering the truth the tumor in my brain is eating of the whispers cannot grasp or hold onto me unflinching impartial perceived reality when my senses are continually shaded ever all the whispers cloud your speech you run from truth faster than fleeing sharks on a beach media propagate the testimonies alluring little ghost stories like the prophets of disco and evermore the whispers grow statements of fact, losing tact befuddled by liquid pictures the truth is … Continue reading Pursuits