PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Pain is the inability to reduce life

to meaninglessness.

Silence does not exist 

in a purposeful street but in echoes of angry children and tired wives;

Puncture the sadness that drains

happiness from colourless men. 

There is no thinking beyond the misery created by

thinking

the final possibility for truth lies in the factless reality of all things and all times.

Hope is the only result of understanding the origins

of internal conflicts.

Bullshit.

Stark night filled with empty starlight and buxom women,

but still no satisfying ripples. 

Over the ledge of the world lies a great

abyss.

I’ve tried starring into it but all I ever see is the

letter ‘b’. 

For better or for worse halt the locomotion of wizardry.

Is that what it is?

I think more and more about thinking. 

Curse... must be a curse.

Do ignorant people consider the vault of the universe?

Violent animals struggling to dominate.

Loneliness against poison.

Candlewax and dengue fever.

Friends won over wiring.  Never more than enemies. 

We all came here alone;

naked and hot or naked and cold;

it makes no difference. 

Peeling half dead, fully stoned across a technicolour finish line or rigidly breaking the plane

of cactus coloured endings. 

It’s all-

feeling and disorientation of real thoughts. 

More campaigns each day to fix the webs we complicate every generation. 

There will be no untangling. 

Stronger bonds only lead to brittle tendrils so easily turned to chalky dust.

Like all of us

Ashes and lust. 

Soft or probing antennae makes no difference to a frozen soul

Compassion should be born of giving birth but

Heightened claustrophobia

Flexes the elastic bands of a cavernous and plunging depth.

The oceans are the only salvation for a grounded being.

Struggle

With

Hercules

for the title of he who sunk the slowest

Into

Anointed

Aged

Leather bound river banks...