absurdist poetry

never mind

Never Mind Mask

there are rare days
that begin
with orchestras crying my eyes
colors dripping memories
city strolls in mammoth steps
I carry pocket-sized chaos
on my shoulder, pretending to be a pirate
on the sea of modernity,
off we sail
into the wind
as plastic wrap
buoyant on meaninglessness

there are rare days
that begin
with suspension points
calmly insinuating that
life is passing by

there are rare days
that begin
with tiny airplanes tied to the tips
of my fingers
seems like I’m about to take off
but then I remember
the anchors tied to my toes
that sink me
into
never mind.

 

Modern Poetry Blog

by the wish

I don’t talk much
what’s going to happen
probably doesn’t

that my silence
travels here
nowhere else

unshuffled words
my ideas circle
like moths
about a light
inconsequence

too bad
I aborted eternity
for
this spurious
paradox
of
life.

 

Nihilistic Poetry

handful of visions

handless_man_painting_21st_century

This hand full of fire from banana field
sliding down your waistline sliding
touching like a hungry hermaphrodite
asking asking is there anyone down there
by the knee or the thigh or the swollen clit
sliding down with chords playing from rooftops
sliding down like a sunset high on trumpet
groping grabbing pinching scarring
this hand full of fire
reversing the course of utopia
this hand so strong irreversible
coming down on you
like freedom rain at 2am
this hand robbing you
taking away your last cents and songs
this hand aching for love that is not red
this hand losing one finger at a time
aging like the smoke at the end of tobacco curls
this hand empty
still touching and sad
this hand going down
holding your navel as burning bullet
this hand a tool
the tool
this hand
the last possession
a hand surface
sliding down to the earth
no contact yet
this baneful hand
raw, skinless
no glove
covering this
hand
no course handling
this hand
that came, saw and conquered
the mighty land

 

 

Modern Poetry

weirdo nail clipper

I’m biting off nails
spitting out tails
wagging at the dog
to wring out the fog
my emotion a sort of doppelganger
adrenaline in my poems when anger
is fire of the beast
I’m drinking out of your breast
like sex in the hands of God
isn’t it a century too goddamn odd
when things have no set end
and we’re always mixing a blend
of the most undrinkable guesses
my guess is that we’re like cocktail dresses
ready to be taken off
and then the real fun goes on
the oblique shadow of the skyscraper
waiting for sun to guide the dance
what a waste of wastepaper
this was my chance
to be
me
eating pieces of myself
while the day annihilates itself.

second place

second place poet

learn meanings
asphyxia
coated roughness
in tender existence
panic so beautiful
you call it
god

learn the noise
behind the word
lurking behind
a search
so silent
you call it
drums

learn abyss
a fall
inevitably soft
dismemberment
asunder
you call it
peace

learn meaning
holding the concept
explosions
ready to kill
the unity of thought
you should call it
jackpot!

 

 

nihilistc poetry

layman’s philosophy

SENSE
that perhaps
our senses
make no
SENSE

 

REASON
gave me
too many reasons
to quit
REASON

 

MIND
said
would you mind
being out of your
MIND

 

WILL
I ever
free
my free
WILL

 

 

modern poetry

pieces and failures

Call me the hunted man
I’m the stranger in your claws
the convict in your laws
I drink the poison of your bars
but I’m not the drunk as this life
inebriated with pursuits
I toast to immensity and curiosity
my life phenomenon strangest consciousness
painted beauty on the orbits of seconds
ideas that have misspelled their democracy
dreams that disinherited their syntax
love for your lost eyes
too shy to reach the earth
I’m the Nostradamus of the irrational
unable to predict the literature of the collective desire
in the mouth of September twenty ten
we will drown in the saliva of tedium
then, BANG!
in the glory of being
a tsunami of heartthrobs will flood us
our voices in unison
     my lord the white blue green yellow of joy
     has painted the flag of my new devotion
     let all creation be the mathematics of ecstasy
I’m the comedian of impossible utopias
jokes for the philosophers of tears.

 

modern poetry

the man of no sorrow

Have you met the man of no sorrow
he caresses the streets like there’s no tomorrow
obese with thought
he exceeds in excesses sought
too thick with analysis
one often finds him in paralysis
he was not bred to sing your tunes
give him leftovers, clouds, solitude; he calls them fortunes
the breadth of his inner wings
cannot be measured by manmade things
when he stretches his arms
his fingers trigger all the alarms
he once traveled deep south
time was a lollipop in his mouth
rewind, pause, play, forward, repeat, erase
he’s way beyond our current phase
have you met the man of no sorrow
his gaze will kill you like an arrow.

 

 

contemporary poetry

hum along

middle_finger_poem

Hum, hum, hum
metronome
numb, numb, numb
here I am gone
she flakes off
blue nail polish
thus we glide
in underground
tunnels
bum, bum, bum
my bore-dom
wrong, wrong, wrong
I’m undone
rum, rum, rum
I’m no fun
alone in the world
I am on the run.

approximations

Guesses
wide awake
yet engulfed
in bottomless dream
guessing
how to undress
be raw, nakedly raw
while the great wave of tomorrow
usurps all my vain hypotheses
the crystals in the air
swirl in entrancing patterns
I’m guessing
undecided
whether to cross this street
or return to the wreckage
that floats over the nothingness
of the world
then the mist descends
and engulfed again
in that sewer full of the debris
of revolutions and broken sciences
guessing
how to plant my heart
far away in the fields
where light
touches
light.
 
 
 

21st century poetry