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Swing lowThree cold coins cast weights in his pockets
that's one for the ferryman but two for the heroin
and three states of being were left out as an option
birth, life, and death and he chose to choose none of them
you'd think that he could smell the approaching Death
if he hadn't sand blasted his nose to nary a snort in Life's breath.
and maybe he wouldn't have been blind to other paths
but it's hard to see the future from a low hung head
so swing low, and take a taste of the madness
but take a dip like a quill in ink to create your life's masterpiece
and if you sink too low then then just brush it off naturally
because nothings permanent and unless you make it seem to be
hold your chin up and breath sighs relief
the devils are on your back so they cannot impede
and child slow down there's no need for grief
you can't live life dead if dead set on living
two cold coins cast weights in his pockets
enough to clip a roach you'd think.
but for all the currency he carried currently
Snow Blind And SinkingWhen he winced and put another pinch up his nose
he laughed and huffed gasses that make cars go faster.
He’s an asshole who robs you blind at kind point
each dollar cast away with a smile but he still wants more.
Veins collapsed, a heart beat to death wheezes
or it would if failed lungs hadn’t already ceased breathing.
He’s agape left gasping with hate, for
the thing that saved him took away his only escape.
snow driven adrenalin pushes him into a tar pit.
He’d be never heard from again, for
it’s a sure thing he’d drown in it.
if it wasn’t for friends love
the he’d be another eulogy and
a fucked up, fair faded, statistic.
but he’s sadistic because he
but misses it.
but he can wipe clean the snow and
remnants of the tar pit
cause he loves more
those who braved it to save him.
Hooked on PhoneticsIt's not all in the hype, see?
You still have to set your roots.
Mine just happen to be hyphy.
I'm split-even like coduceus
fueled by semi-synthetic
ergot infested magic rye.
I'm a nice guy who likes long walks on the beach,
my molly actually sass, but still crystalline, and
using my spare time to visit worlds- dimethyl triptyline
lyrics are a pattern. Whose
divination's just a gift to me.
"They" tell me what to write,
point at you, and scream
"REPEAT AFTER ME!"
A little dab will do ya.
"How bout a line or two sir?"
"Dude, what about your health?
Do think that that's conducive?"
No, I think it's magic. It's talking to god.
I love it more than anything and it's killing me.
Isn't that odd?
A Poem Like TeethNot a line to sit half a happy couplet.
All the metaphors aren't fives but
still love to hear speech through crooked slant rhyme.
All the while wear a stupid half simile.
Ain't an old poet; though, old speech spoke colloquially:
speak Modern-English romanticized chatter,
Not a line to sit half a happy couplet.
All the while wear a stupid half simile.
Rich Man's Poor DreamsThe old man lived in a house of gold bricks and
thought his life a dream.
Though, when he paid for happiness brick by brick
he had company but,
no place to sleep.
A house is not a home and
a home sure ain't a bank.
Though, when you're cold and lonely with possessions to spare
what would posses you to think happiness comes cheep?
The old man spent it all away on a cashed cache o' bucks.
That son of a bitch couldn't buy happiness but,
he sure found it when he stopped giving a fuck.
Never-Empty EvergreenThe trees leaves leave,
casting not shadows, but bitter memories
of a full head of hair.
Willow's weep in winters dead grasp
and send not a prayer nor death rattle
only silent sighs resign to fate.
All will always be lush and green;
for, even when it is not I
pretend my vegetation is large and pristine and
think myself an evergreen.
Daddy Issues Check ListI was born a monster before a man.
Honestly, I'm a cannibal.
I never hesitate just so long as it's consensual.
Lose the shirt and pants;
speech not necessarily sequential.
If you're in a pinch I could pinch too,
if that's what you're in to.
I have a hunger in my chest that was formed up in my own mind.
I'd probably worry about my cockiness if I wasn't so spineless.
I'd lie if I was in a bind. Though, I'd rather bind you and play 'Risk',
We'll just live 'Life'. while you use your mouth to 'Sink my Battleship'.
Okay, what you want, you can't always get.
That's alright with me because I get to WANT to get.
Yo, I heard the wind sing strong that 'The Thrill is Gone'.
heard rumors that 'Love Don't Live Here Anymore'
'Babe, I'm Going to Leave You' 'cause I never really needed you,
wore you like a tattoo but the tattoo came with a rash too.
Maybe that's too rash an attitude?
I've been told I'm overly passionate.
But you're a little... what's the term kids use?
Something like 'ratchet'?
losing my mind againJust about the only things I can't hold onto,
a steady job and my sanity.
you know this.
Bong star goes hard when
ripping himself down
slightly underweight and
made of lead.
amphetamine found on the day to day
adulterous adulterants found in high dose in cheap MDMA.
either-way, pure or not,
I'm just happy to be happy, happily-
drop a call- drop a line
got a dime piece?
Then, man, everything fine
we go tradesys, man,
it's crazy, but
the higher I get the
less the worry 'bout what 'crazy' means.
ViolinI remember the day
you told me violins
were strung with cat gut
and that is why
you hated music
(who says that to a child?)
I followed you
all that summer.
I watched you
grow away from mother -
your whiskey held better conversations
and all she did was cry.
We'd sit cross-legged on the porch
and count the horseflies
settling on our lunch.
You would drown tadpoles
in a bucket
surprised they could not swim
and I would dream
of cherry popsicles.
And when night would gather
on the sidewalk
I'd hold my breath
until a star appeared.
Don't bother making wishes
you'd tell me -
stars are dead weight in heaven
and God has cloth ears.
My School Says I'm Worthless (sort of a rant)I'm a criminal because my values aren't their values
And I'm scum to say the least
Because I'm not on their list
Ones who have their lives set out
And drink from molten glory raining down from
School top balconies...
And I have myself left to blame for all the non-attempts
And truancies; the bleak distractions
That help me escape the inviolable test-score stares
Of disapproval that I attract from their
And they're forced to ask me 'Why?
Why are you still here?'
And I can barely say
That I'm afraid to leave.
That I know that no-one knows
Or what they want to be
But unlike those
I gave up
A while ago
And they can't tell me to my face that I'm a failure so they heavily imply
That my lacking presence
And even less impressive
Tendency for slacking off is evidence
That I am stupid and a fool and nothing more than such a waste of resources
And it's a disappointment
That I don't hold their ideals
VesselYour heart is a compass.
Broken, perhaps, but I know
It’s always searching for the North Star.
Which way will your beard point tonight?
DanielYou are vertebrae
reinforced with titanium
that does not make you the lesser -
You’ve got the weight of the world
on one shoulder
sometimes you trip because of it -
you’re still walking
and if things fused wrong
post or anterior
and if things fused out in the interior
your circuits live on
and if your thoughts get circular
or so do your moods
and your mind blanks and you forget -
you’re nervous but strong -
then I’ll remind you.
Because you give me
the backbone required
you’re my Atlas, so I lift my head,
you’re my axis, so I can face the future
because you are vertebrae
reinforced with titanium.
You’re my inner strength.
FallingFailure after failure
A life not worth living
Lost in my misery
Long gone are the good moments
I keep falling
Nothing can save me now
Gone my hopes are
Because He'sHe’s listening
Millions of them.
A flash of red
And a navy hat
No warning – now motionless
With skin turned to shadows.
[transmissions of a dead girl]i am the
moon: i am
the silver pill
to weigh down
into leaden eyes--
i am the
of the dark.
the stars are
all dead in their
you'll be safe, dear,
as i am the moon,
with all of your
(i am good bye and yet,
you think only of romantic
i am the moon.
i am the crescent
and dead altogether,
i still die.
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