Radiation Will Be The Judge To Which You Will Testify

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Deaf

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

 

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Our Silent Sleep

Tonight
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,
Rough-hewn
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

 

POETUS

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

MCCL

I wander CraigsList, the missed connections section, W4M
aware that no one is looking for me

Though tonight, I really felt like,
this was the exception to the rule of loneliness

It occurred two days ago at approximately 11:46 AM

I was sitting at a table with coworkers,
you strolled into the establishment at some point, I didn’t notice initially
But I caught your glimpse, and you did what all others do not,
your gaze unaverted

I was sitting, immersed in conversation,
until I saw your piercing eyes
and I realized that, for once, I felt confident before your eyes fell upon me
my hat the defining factor instilling pride and surety

As we shared a moment in history, I realized there was a TV above me,
and, perhaps, I had mistaken the acute angle of your vision

Whether or not I caught your eye, the result the same:
Me alone, staring into this screen,
screaming about potential missed connections, having squandered our opportunity to connect,
hail marying one last transmission into space
that will never be viewed