New Year Retribution


The closed curtain,

Veil of the new age;

Falls upon the tolling

Bells –

And we stand in

Vain hope –

The blurred shadow

Of yesteryear

In our eyes still –

Still we stand,

The whole world

In static motion

Towards a pale hand

Which corrupts

In steady stance

All who enter

Into ill fated contract

With a firm grip

And empty words

With the night-reaper in the stands…

 

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Ne’er Moving Man


No audience

Gathers round the

Catatonic

Ne’er moving

Man;

Like a mime

Without

The empty airs

Of pretentious

Performance –

He stands eternal

In marble monument

Watching over shadows

In silent duty.

 

 

 

Mad Blood


First, when

Flying down-

Questions fill my veins-

‘Til they rupture-

And I am drowning

In my own gushing blood

The insanity of riddles-

Why do the sane question their sanity?

Why do the insane accept theirs?

For the sane mans sanity is a democratic sanity-

But the madman’s sanity is truly their own.

Swimming up-

I taste salty brine-

I breath the breath of near death-

Inhaling the insanity-

Of someone else.