outta here

beyond_language_poem

Let’s be tired of words.
Of how we started endless
galaxies from an eye that is smaller
than the grain of infinity.
Of sadness that is a mess
nailed to the CORNER of
LIFe.
Let’s be weary
of how eyes open
and close into new
continents of light
and junk like hung
in memory’s mausoleum.
Let’s put a Beard on Happiness
and let it sail without rum
into the range
of yellow.
L’et s be tired of language,
‘tis
but a mayor reason
to abandon reason,
look how wide
the measurements of our bodies
have curled like hair around
the concept of love.
Let’s be grotesque
born figments fancying
fragments of fire
making fury like florid
petals atop the function
of the facts.
Let’s sing silences.
In vaults of fine emptiness.
Let’s abandon
the distance that is mirrored
in the instance,
faintly so feebly fleeting
into utterance.
Let’s be flying error
that spat onto text
like orgasm.

AntiPoetry

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