Punch in the face
Is the past a direction you can walk in,
Is the future even real,
Going through the motions,
The bell rings, I honestly,
Eleventeen…
Bottom feeders
Across the multiverse, a common guiding principle would be to do well in school, but I'm not an architect, if the heavens wish for you to wander and explore life’s mysteries, it would not be incorrect, starving, discover what you’re yearning for, walk into the valley, pluck a lily and be satisfied, you can die happy, there wasn’t a need for anything else, the universe, the expansive and diverse amount of ways to exist, in truth, the taste of a flower’s lips, the rest doesn’t really amount to more than this…
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Mister Beast
Once a creature becomes intelligent enough to feel greed, and any unearthly desire, god and the devil immediately say hello, and ask whether they’re interested in a little bet they have going on between them, two hands jerking each other off, but in reality they don’t say anything, they just whisper, encapsulating your mind, they show you how to achieve your desires, oh woe to any beast that dared to think, for it is eternal, the spirit, doomed to be a toy for the heavens above, bow your head and kiss the altar, pray your mother shows you love, in truth, she’s the only one who can save you, if this world didn’t have her, we’d simply be butchered meat on your father’s table…
Jealous
Poetry is a product of my sobriety, my existence and my suffering, alone in the void, my heart tells me all thoughts are a product of suffering, signals from the heart and brain, screaming something needs to change, your stomach, your soul is hungry, it yearns and it needs to be satisfied, smoke some weed and stifle the idea, see that you’re now happier without all that thinking, become a Buddha, free of thoughts, like my puppies, they know so much joy when they feed, poetry becomes harder to write the more inebriated I am, but I’d gladly throw all this poetry away, if could be like my dogs and content for the rest of my days…
