Sunday Poetry: On Blank Spaces

let it flow
those words you got
chained to your soul
let em go

the universe is waiting on you
you’re the one
so its told
you’re the one that can set us free
the mold of the king
so mighty is your roar
let us hear it

penetrate our spirits
and enflame our hearts
desolation in the dark
how we need your spark
we’ve been lost for centuries
and its only getting harder
to see where we’re going

so buckle your bootstraps
and sharpen your tongue
when your ink begins to spill
let it  let it run
through the broken homes
and the broken souls that litter
our world like lost stars

through every pew
and every backyard backwood back then
high school party
that our parents don’t know about

through the world
and the girl and the lost boys
and all that is unknown
let it run
leave fountains for us


Sunday Poetry: Blind Fury

when I was young
I had trouble with my anger
not like the cute kids
you see on the TV set
no no no

this was a different beast
five feet of fear and confusion
you couldn’t tell me shit
with the flip of a switch

a spark would turn into wildfire
I’d puff my chest out
and clinch my fist so tight
I could feel my heart
beating through my finger tips

I didn’t know blood could get this hot
the furnace in my stomach
wouldn’t turn off
it just kept pumping

wave after wave
this ugly red gas
waiting to combust
holding back the tears
as they crashed against my eyelids

don’t cry! men don’t cry! suck it up!
thoughts from a boy
who didn’t know the man
he was keeping himself from being

Sunday Poetry: After The Storm

you were a hurricane
and I was a tornado
wreaking havoc at the same time
ripping through the earth

in different directions
we were never meant
to be together
but the calm breeze fooled us

concealing the storm inside
that was always going to escape
tearing through hearts
with reckless abandon

torn edges and ripped tissue
in the wake
we are what happens
when the love runs out

Sunday Poetry: A Stroll Through Shadows

drowning in these yellow ballons
friction sending shocks and shivers
from my head to my feet
a black cat skiddles across the surface

and brings about our demise
ripping through precious treasure
pop, crackle, a mother’s cry
on the east side
on the south side
over west

there’s cities drowning in bullets
and rivers of tears we’ve wept
so I pray into the sky
hoping that somebody’s there
that there’s a reason for my prayer
wishing that my prayers
aren’t just wishes
to the sky so infinite

this vinyl keeps spinning
spinning spinning
they say art imitates life
well shit
they must be right
the wear and tear
of this beautiful plight
is taking its toll
I just wanna know
where the light is

Sunday Poetry: Silvertongue Soul

I need you
I need you like the sky
needs the ocean
when the sun is setting it ablaze
for keeping it up too long

you save me
over and over
you turn my tears into monsoons
that could drown all the broken souls
and make them new again

you big beautiful ugly mess
of emotions and memories
and dreams and heartbreaks
and breakthroughs and breakups
you hold universes
in the content of your chaos

I need you
my sweet release
the way you put my mind at ease
you are the bringer of peace
in my life oh
what would my life be
if I could not spill this ink

Sunday Poetry: First Bloom

Would you believe my enchantment

as your mellifluous melody

feathered my soul

And left a deathly hush on my lips


thus in comparison

my voice would speak nothingness

in the moments that may have ever followed


for you’d ignited the long dulled candle

not just at my core

but in my eyes

and the ship that allowed my existence

would forever burn bright in your presence


for your breath was now mine

and your divine soul had intertwined with my entire being

my sweet dream

may this be real?

Sunday Poetry: Ricochet

I can smell the destruction loomimg
it smell like the wrong words
at the wrong time
why the pigs sniffed the slugs
in the stop sign

you see it was a drive by
semi through the brains
left a few stains on the sidewalk
now we can’t walk on the sidewalk

ooh destruction I can smell it
like watermelon
laying in the grass
though days have passed
ain’t nobody picked it up
a few days have passed
but ain’t nobody picked it up

you see a few days ago
a laser show hit the park
with a suprise for the birthday boy
the one that liked watermelon

hot chrome bust lead
knock the seeds out your fruit
I scream ain’t no need to shoot
but those beats be bumpin
so they don’t hear a thing

sharp pain
ears begin to ring
can’t feel a thing
but I can smell something though
its familiar                and fading

Sunday Poetry: Divine Casualty

Don’t be afraid

of the tingling sensations

those are your human parts

letting you know

that they’re still here


and that they still have fight left

if you’re willing

even with your heart bleeding

filling puddles so deep

your feet could become memories


stand with me

under the tears of the sky

and the pain may wash away

in a tsunami from the heavens

that stutter in your step may be a weapon


so pull the trigger

and don’t fear tomorrow

for tonight

the world is in our hands

let’s get to work

Sunday Poetry: Sparkplug

When I get low

I like to watch the lights

those lost ones

that litter the streets

of ghost towns

on restless nights just like this one


twisting and bending

through naked branches

and orphaned windows made of fog

giving their best impression

of what beauty might look like


so free I can’t believe it

every time I see it

my soul gets a little less dim

I guess that’s where they hide the fire