Surrealism
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And what is this-
the stuff of dreams?
Is it a gateway
to the subconscious
as we've been told
or merely a jumbling
of thoughts and images-
some indecipherable,
nocturnal unraveling
Bells.Ring deafeningly.With means of girls and boys.Underneath the original singing.Like bells we were once new and brass.Then reality kicks you in the ass.The metal rusts as you walk from class to class.Subtly the tone turning into sass.As bells
Wanna know how many dudes I’ve banged?
well sit down take a biopsy of
the inner walls of my blood pumper my blood thumper wait
what do you see? oh I know
little tiny letters that read
“we’re sorry for the…”
I can’t believe
you would do this to me
Sitting in silence, qui vive
that night New Year’s Eve
When you hung yourself
from a cucumber tree
Tragedy, they say
America
Have we got what we sought out—
Have we deafened our ears—
Have we defended with honor—
Have we lasted the years?
Learned to love and learned to hate,
The air is thick but the breeze runs swiftly,
And the road winds daintily
As you drive us to our favorite place.
The one we know so well
From years of picnics and adventures,
How is it like to resume?
Strobe lights and that's a grand foyer.
Was not water.
Grass and more grass,
and a railroad
elongating reluctantly to some point;
A tornado of railroad.
A rush enters like a veiling curtain
Of cascading water;
A vaporous fall, endlessly joining
Aqueous substances below.
Descending from a starlit heaven,
How could my heart retain
The deepest crimson adorns
A canvas skin,
Wrapped securely in its hued dimension.
Away from my body,
Exiting the mental noise.
I observe the feathered edge of light
Surrounding these form-bearing objects.
What is the meaning of meaning?
The stem-held nerve endings sway
there it is, the tapestry
of the impassably steep.
a precipitous rambling through
numb metal music stands or beads with holes
or girls named after states.
the pass is steep. it force feeds nearly every
In raging currents, all was lost,
A child tossed crimson yarn about the wind-struck rocks,
others stowed away in wrinkles of the sea.
They hid inside dragonfly homes.
When the tide unfolded,
Happiness lost within a tired reality
A reality that rather be fiction
Fiction that wishes to be reality
The mind unravels to an unwanted place
a place that's been deferred
