Scribbles 'n Bits

Tag: original poetry

  • 1000 Cuts

    I had to ask.
I knew the answer
before I asked,
but I had to ask. 

And it's okay. 
It's all really okay. 

Believe me,
because I do.

  • NA

    I had that dream again.

Angry with
the glue
sealing my 
lips.
Hot plastic
slipping out.
No idea
what I’m 
missing
because when
I see 70,
I see a beach
with a cold
wind 
up its spine. 

Anyway,

What are you up to?

  • tensions risen

    The mattress, 
the floor:
tangled 
in linear progression.

The corners,
sharp and cold.

Fingers spread,
you know?

The feeling. 

How's that for 
temptation?

  • a misnomer

    It slowly tingles,
drifting upwards - 
periphery 
caving in -
downtown skyline blending. 
Fuck, I miss your dumb ass.
Same kind of focus,
that narrowed my sight. 
Beside ourselves
with laughter,
beside each other,
friend.

  • Sea Salted Cocoa Nut

    Hunting 

    window seats,

    timeless observation decks,

    for things - 

    people really -

    sifting 

    over and over. 

    I don’t understand 

    or pretend not to

    for the sake 

    of a plastic beach 

    somewhere. 



    Reworking the data,

    changing perspectives,

    and updating the algorithm

    through sips 

    from a tulip glass. 

    Making it absolutely nowhere. 



    Still, the water runs;

    the purple coats

    cry on the corner, 

    a blue Porsche 

    drifts around...

    whatever you say,

    space cadet.

  • Their Buried Heads

    Look, this dreamer, 
in an age lacking peace. 
Contests staring 
with the wall.
An ostrich to the races;
a warm, drumming static
and beeping.
Ambivalent,
like any 
decent son should be.

  • Hero Complex

    Please wipe 
the stars 
from your eyes.
I took a bullet - 
saved your life - 
not because 
I value yours,
but because
I do not value mine.

  • Red Shift, Blue Shift

    The sundial stuck,
an indecisive thing;
ticking perpetually 
on the same, old second. 

Let the world turn;
for once lick its own wounds.
Let the majestic sea turtle
hurtling between cosmic gases,
make its own peace  
with the monkeys on its back.

  • Compartments

    It's not your fault. 
You live in a
cardboard shanty town,
a little box,
in my head
alongside everyone else.

  • She, Herself, and I

    A coarse flight of reds
bedazzled her sly impression - 
the harder they come. 
A reliable mistress
with a harshness worth revitalizing -
a gambit
worth falling for.