Showing posts from June, 2012


Agony doesn't talk, it shivers.
It tries to blink away expression
in wallpaper cliches.
It is the bloodshot eyes beneath.

Agony maligns teeth in tension.
It thinks in spirals of acute intentions
in the deliberate delirium
of endless cause and effect.
Written on the 9th of June 2012. Written in response to a specific circumstance but my reading of the poem has expanded since, so I deleted the explanation.

Live Out This Dream
Drifting off to sleep 
The templates of my dreams
Are etched onto the insides of my eyelids,
All silhouettes and whispers
It wants to be more.

Open my eyes to  Watch smoke rise and dissipate Diluted in air, and disappear Under the clouds of day, They're so far from here.
If the best day  Is described as a dream Why do we spend so long awake In the limbo between the tangible reality of rest? Monotonous.
I said that sleep is there To fuel the living, You said the day is there To inspire the dreams; When you feel most alive. Detached from your superfluous body.
A perspective of daybreak Keeps me from slumber For to fear the light  Is not to choose a different reality But it is to choose unreality And unimportance.
The ripples of the impact of animated sloth Stop at the edges of the bed And no one closes their eyes to think ‘right, its time to dream out this life.’ You’d just be looking lifeless.