run

Run motion

run
your naked
ditch
shiny hurt
on the stool
of ass
mission of fingers
making murder
in my eyelashes
of grieving
love’s cake,
eat now
or be eaten
by the insect
with deathly stomach
my aims
of dying
like a loose
hair
falling somewhere
when in a jerk
you
hop off
the
dream.

Absurd Poetry

cut up my lines

Cut up poem

independent and sway
spectrum proud
a key within an hour
playground of limits
wood poetry in reality
all that mattered
I love history for it will be the bucket
in which I will leave my spit
vainly, i begin to burn
biological and all
interdependent bone, i had bones
planning to manipulate organs
in a dualistic system of time and impulse
while eternity only stares
i multiplied earthquakes
intelligence was a pleasurable pursuit
because the odds cut up
and boredom has my watch
aging never living
mind running out
to such a degree, it did not only survived
it flourished

 

nihilistic poetry