Radiation Will Be The Judge To Which You Will Testify


Liquidity Deficit

Some banks, suffer a liquidity deficit,
a, primitive, delimiting discretion, vision, the precipice
Decay, eats away edifice,
Its slaves, beat down their effervescent bliss,
Parades for the moneyed men and roasted rat for the hopeless, trapped

Some pranks, suffer humility’s desertedness
played on victims of futile decadance
enraged to the point of muted silence,
the game played for pawns and the fuel of irrelevance

Some drinks, are infused with pestilence
Infected cofactors, resected gallbladders and,
slices of pulmonary alveoli,
all poisoned with the insurmountable false hope,
of peace

Some think, they are immune to hesitance,
acting on instinct and muscle memory,
forgetting where their molecular engines are maintained,
misplacing their trust in brokers of combustion,
left in a dust of oxidized metal and concussion

Some skanks, suffer from lucidity deficit,
eyes suffocated with glittering vapidity
rich, golden photons bouncing across retinal paths,
anesthetizing the mind with fake and false premises,
half-baked and malted memories,
saccharine-coated toxicity, melting inner membranes
withholding beasts from primal supremacy

One moment, 54 days ago, a woman, brought to tears,
when assaulted with the ignored reality shared by her friend,
yet again completely ignored, even met with contempt,
when it is time to comprehend, the ignored,
who cannot afford,
to any longer store,
this potent, fiery ore,
incinerating interiors

Ores burn and melt,
feelings turn and list,
heaven evaporates,
leaving hope in mist

Heart, in turn, subsists,
maintains its grip,
until a sudden slip,
returns for a tryst

Forgotten and neglected,
alone in hatred,
downtrodden and disrespected,
she will atone,
for crushing bones,
for crushing home,
for destroying my stone,
eroding sculptures
which hands so deftly and expertly crafted, for her

That woman was exposed to a handful of seconds, while here lives an eternity,
of liquidity deficit

No tears will fall,
when I break my chains,
her township only protected,
by my masoned walls

Jannise Beneath The Hanging Tree[See SIDEBAR]

A testament to the past,
A regaling of forgotten pleasure,
A virtuous plea to what no longer exists:
An Admission, from the lips and fingertips of Blix:

A decade ago I fell for the indefinable, opaque caricature,
of one who wielded words as weapons, articulations as desecration
pauses and clauses, concealed beneath zeal and storm

I read her works,
I felt her hurt,
I knelt, praying for what I don’t deserve,
convinced that she does

And she, a quiet riot, a slumbering behemoth, melting ionic bonds,
quelling ironic calm
dropping atomic after atomic bomb,
captured angst and want within,
like a military battalion storming a strategic hill,
in contested territory

A poetic imposter, pretending he knows this craft,
translating his soul into semiformed script
and getting hits, from the lips and fingertips of a lass,
who knows more than he, and may never surpass

She, kinder than expected,
inclined toward lines resected,
divine goddess with a spine of lead X’s
her subtle caresses, tore into his cardiac silhouette

The Transthoracic Echocardiogram will show the damage,
left by this unknown dame, shadowed in unknown fame,
dark matter inhabiting space once owned,
and never relinquishing the grasp of finality

Dermatological Detritus

A slender tube of Dermabond,
firmly in grasp of the physician
loiters patiently

This adhesive, prepared in a corporate lab,
to mend the epidermis
only succeeds when properly applied

Likewise, patients with torn, galeforce gust-beaten skin,
in disrepair and sorely lacking,
refuse salves with stertorous impudence

The physician, educated for decades
practicing craft, inoculating staff, philosophical cast
philanthropical act, misanthropic past, epidemiological rash
peasants greedy for methodological cash
never offered to grasp, his methodical tact

The physician views the skin, under a Nikon brand microscope,
identifying and exhaustively categorizing the terrorized demise of crumbs of skin, demarginated machinations, necrotizing fascination
staring at those with lack of imagination
And sorely needed humility in place of blasphemed ignorant wailing

The skin eternally sheds identifiable flakes across every tract of land,
every speck of dust polluting infected hands
every sense of trust diluted by disrespect and scams
every layer of epidermal shielding, somehow weakened,
but ever unyielding, and eternally cheapened

The Dermabond that leapers need to reattach their collapsing appendages,
never reaches their dying extremities
The OR silent, the clinic shuttered,
A physician long forgotten

Lost Us

I am in the dark, searching
for ways out
of your darkness

This forest of anger,
Provides kindling for this fire
Burning inside you

I choke on your carbon monoxide breath,
Pouring onto
The bed we once slept on

I strain, pained under the crushing weight
Of yours
A burden we used to carry together
Now sits, eroded by acidic rain
Decaying in the poisoned air

Maps were procured,
Surveying this landscape,
Plotting courses
We once rode upon trotting horses,
Told ourselves we were fortunes
While impatient daggers bided time
A giant knife cut portions
Your sourness devoid and powerless
A quixotic abortion
Dead love, carrion
Victim of
Exotic torture

I yearn for the lust of beach sand
Caressed by oceans
Suppressing motion
Undressing and very calm
Heart exploding

My thirst for you is a drunken jester
Who had his fill
And swallowed swords
Unfollowed lying hordes
As I lie with you no more
And upend this enormous chore
And poison myself to feel sore
My gills are dry
My ears roar
My heart sick
Your poverty soars

Impoverished thoughts and paralyzed sensation
Crippled aching
A terrible mistake was made
Thinking you were staying

We went through a forest
Rescuing trust
We found it
But lost us


Who fails to hear,
fails in tears
I fall like hail
Plummeting tears

Face dry
Tasting lye
I call to her
Failed try

Bodies in desert
Void of pleasure
Risking solace
Forgotten treasure

Here, I hurt
Pain, incessant rain drops stain
Acting like a jerk, in vain
Blood boils
Polluted soils
Ancient ruins, Mongolian Yurt

Dainty broads
Saintly rods
I feint caring
Another dusted dirt clod

Miles beyond
She has no song
Pained and alone
Tainted spawn

Left here, forgotten
Herbs and toxins
Mottled cardiac fiber
Absurd oxen

Hating this, ignoring
Baited into boredom
Wasted ticks
Faceless pricks
I erase Blix
And reap hollow distortion


Our Silent Sleep

Our sleep will be silent
As it was for 300 days

I crave your smell, your taste, your feel
I require your arms
I need your touch

But for 300 days,
You were forever disappeared
Quieting our passion
Dissolving our bond

Alcohol cannot rescue it,
Words poured upon you in a Sisyphean thrust
accomplished nothing

I stood by you, in wind and rain
I anchored your psyche
I fought your battles

And the scars from war hurt me
I ache inside
And the salve is you

You are a poor field medic,
You won’t tend my wounds
You don’t feel my hands,
You can’t see my lance,
You refuse to plant
You never water or waiver

Again I lie, hatefully beside you
Planning to wreck your fate
Hands that will break the plates, unleash dire straits
Set fire to your lake
You couldn’t comprehend my distaste,
My grenades never misplaced

Again, by you, alone
The whole night silent

Preponderance of mammals

In Sea, and on land

Man searches

For love

His list of favorites beckons,

But keeps being overtaken,

By one

Accountant with the gemstone green eyes 

And a smile so sultry,

It plunges you into gravitational freefall

Man keeps coming back to you,

Seeing something in that soft smirk,

Seeing something in those piercing eyes

There is even, the possibility of flaw,

An unclear image of her upper mandible,

Potentially spoiling her perfect smile

And even that cannot deter 

His gaze 

Man searches the preponderance of mammals, 

And keeps finding your face

A warm hug 

every time,

The eyes pierce mine

Aural assaults have worn his landscape,

And broken his resolve

Inequitable treatment has destroyed his chastity,

And dissolved his control 

Sharp words have cut him, happiness leaking from his aorta

His logic is clouded by malice, his strength is all that remains

A strength made weak, by her lime soul-windows 

A hunger, roaring thunderous under his ribs

A craving he cannot forever contain,

Under these circumstances: 

A captain sails her ship toward an iceburg,

Inching ever closer to complete hull failure 

Too ignorant of her course,

To see the damage she is constructing

Sending a man three hours south,

For a chance at warmth,

and satiety 


Missed Connections 2

Missed Connections 2, a second chance at,
ignoring my plight

Again, 11 PM, alone in the den,
atone by hitting send,
if found by the wrong one,
I would be stoned, broken bones,
me begging strangers for comfort,
never condoned

Yet, I sit in disquiet,
my right atrium torn by riots,
hypertrophy in the ventricle
me begging strangers for comfort,
sadness, does it belie it?

Again, the MC W4M lacks a message directed toward me,
No one missed a connection, and what can be connected,
to an electrical panel, blackened from fire, desires miswired
my guile retired,
me begging strangers for comfort,
tasting ire

I seek passion, whether everlasting,
simply a kiss and a short breath in passing,
or a life journey, en masse, and amassing
me begging strangers for comfort,
the dialect of trespassing, vaulting into my chest,
annointed assault, treasure I’m grasping

Again, my words ignored,
the scoreboard, torn, ripped to shreds,
down to the core,
scorned, forlorn,
thorns, worn from stabbing,
adorned in a habitat void of humanity
born into barren lands,
scarred and scared of hands,
reality jarred, no one is proud of my plans
me, begging strangers for comfort,
screaming aloud at vacant sand

Extinction Level Prevent

The bomb dropped one year ago,
devastating our landscape,
choking life under a quilt of filthy dust

Your world was forever destroyed,
the day that bomb wiped away your safety net,
shattered your shield
sent your fears to greet a naked, barren reality

Though I took it in stride, I was built for this
I always faltered, hung behind the crowd,
believing they were inches from terror
feeling in my heart,
death of hope was near

Being broken inside, and watching the outside break,
brings you home,
as that day I sat on the curb, in the rain
preparing for a journey of thousands of miles,
completely lost
driving home as the sky wept

Seeing the world die is seeing the living
become acquainted with an abandoned house,
weather-worn and splintered

You wept when everyone lost everything,
while photons fail to escape,
the gravitational pull of this void
inside me,
a crater of stoicism



Multitudes of fears and tears,
ripping holes in their fabric
sloughing away weak exteriors

A farmer burns a field of wheat,
to clear undergrowth,
and make space for new life

In this same way, the engine which drove us for so long,
has been discarded
and while you may not own the new engine, propelling you forward,
you collectively own the soil,
may we all share in its spoils