“The Narrow Way”

Luminous outcove
I strove to escape your coals
but death made it hard.

Rainbows in ashes,
I’m compelled by the blood seal
on your sky hilltop.

It’s a tight rope life,
it’s a sprint or it’s a fall,
an eternal fall.

I taste honey stars
and the world fades to a grey
luminous outcove.

Humorous Poem

Alright... In person I will vehemently defend my position that groceries don't really exist. On my blog, I will simply post this poem...


“Mr. York Explains Divorce to a Cat While in a Grocery Store’s Shampoo Section”

You see Cat, it’s just like the groceries.
Nobody really knows what divorce is.
Nobody really knows what a grocery is.
Is shampoo a grocery?
Honestly, is any single thing a grocery,
Or are there only…
groceries?

There might be sense to make of divorce,
similar to the sense of death. You know Cat?
Imagine letting all the sparrows live—
The world just wouldn’t be real...
and groceries wouldn’t be groceries.

I’m going back to my coconut Suave,
you know Cat? There’s nothing more real
than 3 months of clean hair for 89 cents.
Then we’ll go over to the cheap kitty litter.
that’s why it works with us, you know Cat?

We know the truth, how groceries
are fake! I never really agreed with the idea
myself. It’s always been the world, forcing
it on me. But we know… Cat.
There are no groceries.
Just Coconut Suave and kitty litter.

POEMS!

I have a lot of poems to post... I hope you guys enjoy them a bit. I'll start with a series of three poems about Judas Iscariot...

“Prayer of Betrayal”

Prince of this world, learn mercy fast.
Rid me of this screeching spirit.
Restrict the reins of my seething tongue.
Let me escape

before I hang
from your ancient rope of lies,
your slick, legless mass
coiled around my throat.

Oh deliver me,
dead God!

Not my will master,
But your will
Be done.


“Farewell: Iscariot’s Descent”

In death who knows to rest?
Who has lied about its peace?
Of morose and lonesome tragedies,
death seems furthest from the least.

From the moment of one’s death,
who can in any way abstain?
Who’s to say forever, there
a man will not remain?
To death won’t every theory
of death seem rather futile?
Won’t life’s wisdom die in death,
Where life’s thoughts are juvenile?
In death who is to speculate
that torture won’t endure,
and depths from the darkest night
won’t reign forevermore?

For Death has never heard of rest,
Nor has Death considered peace,
but in Death one thing is certain,
In Death— the life of man will cease.


“Iscariot’s Last Recollection”

I stood outside the train wreck
And met my twin:
Twisted steel eating death.

The unquenchable sewers drank
dirty blood. Bystanders gloated:
their eyes, all awe-struck
and death hungry.

Sulfur pours down
from the hemorrhaging moon.
The stars leak acid.
The sun is gone.

I stand alone outside the wreck
and meet my twin:
Satan.