Nostalgia for A'dolt

Yearn for the taste,

The hot shared air in breaths we take,

Forgotten flavors that I once craved,
Ripened Musk, our fibers flayed,

Affects the way I still behave.

Covet the tension,

Lips in all shades of vermillion,

Smooth flesh warped into prickled skin,

Arcs traced, blessed with experience,

Our moral tests of resilience.

Thirst for the interest,

The first thought seemed listless,
Like that, our mouths were twisted,
That motion denied me existence,
Those moreish lips of my mistress. 

Patricide

I had tried killed all manifestations of "Father",

Since receiving this cursed idol, 

It turned my matrons into witches,

Until I was blessed with comprehension,

I was lost in a place that seemed timeless,

Fanstiysing patricide,

Ended for once on my own terms,
Guilty of the thousands of times after.

The internal was hardest to cleanse,

It had built-up barriers for me blunder through,

Scratching the surface was the most painful way in,

I dug with a frenzy, Intent to purge,

As if I would strike a silver vein,

The prospect of some great wealth within,

Heaved up with the same spent hands, 

Roused by the carrot and the stick.

I was guided into the arms of an immortal green giant,

And in comfort, I justified the substitute,

I needed an excuse to look down on something,

Scared of where I had found myself,

I'd wince at the thought of the inevitable fall,

Only after my back touched the ground did I laugh,

What once looked strange from far away,

I could hardly wait to get closer too.

This road I've rebuilt is the same path I walk,
I've missed crucial features, through the monotony of the step, 

The dirt between my toes reminding me why I jumped,

I make these mirages real, to keep me walking,

Heart set for imaginary paradise,

Convinced you were nothing but a shadow,

Where never looking back meant never looking up

Maybe in this old darkness, I'll wander back to reality.

Looking down at a box

Prepped my chest for evils,

Each decorated faithfully,

I figured all sides equal,
As i lived with eccentricity,

But was forced to face the sequel,

My admiration was mimicry,

Demons settled on my right,

On the left, it has a vacancy.

This decent is plagiarism,
The first death was the slowest, 

Prepared in days of fatalism,

For the date I reach my lowest,
Preordered my coffin,

To own the vessel of poet,

I'll be the last inside,
And the first one to close it.

Killing Time

Tried to master the AMs,
We slip into PMs,
And without warning,
We quilted over coffins,

And we tried to call it mourning.

Dr Boondocks

Physicians paid and made to feign a friend,

Not even the trained confirming where it stemmed,

Fools with tools turning inner demons to men,

Always a chance to lose your mind at the end.

A monochrome mind and its forgotten hues,

Now manufactured on mass and deemed safe to use,

We chase after the synthesis of the two,

Pumping our hearts through with shades of blue.

Embody purposeless flesh to disrupt,

Burning with passion or iodine in the cuts?

Iodine tinted eyes left them burnt and corrupt,

Butterflies cannibalize right through the guts.

Subtle salves smother these sparse shallow wounds,

All ailments and cures reflect the reviews,

Now you're higher and wired on all you consume,

Prescriptions are laced decorating our tombs.

Mammalian parasites

Two legs could be four if lowered enough,

The weight of the world on a civilized savage, 

Roused to accept it was predatory,

Forced its four legs to two,

Foul beasts raised to men,

Which dress the fiends as cattle,

Feigning desires for comradery,

They cohort with vermin while leaving them hungry.

The city rat hates the country mouse,

Ignorant to the machinations of the other,

The dirt road becoming stone,

Connected in their merged path,

The stones rolling back to dirt,

Amicable symmetry in their shared stalkers,

Both remain prey to a known power,

Blind under eyelids as they feast in their sleep.

Pray to the stars as the worms praise their earth,

Drawn to everything made under the sun,

Howling cultured nothings beneath the moon,

Each practicing its own sane heresy,

Some glide on artificial wings,

The limbless others forced to trudge the dirt,

Brought down into the natural soil,

Places even the king of the jungle can be humbled.

Bloodied the tips of the hand that fed you,

Destined to feast on this barren maternity,

Guided past the boundaries of a mothers cycle,

Gathered around her warped and molded roots,

Grounded by ironclad mistresses of metal,

Guilty of a need known by anything truly natural,

At every day's end, there always remains,

The feral need for that same tender gooseflesh.

Check the waves

Surface breached,
Witness the days first light,
Hues of grey of blue and white,
In the warmth creating shade,
Check the waves, check the waves.

Shoreline battered,
Taste the saline ridden skies,
Waste the sight with covered eyes,
Salt on skin as it decays,
Check the waves, check the waves.

Seascape horizon, 
Reflecting beauty in the night,

Found foreign bodies without spite,

An overwhelming pressure to brave,
Check the waves, check the waves.

Sinking bellows,

Sirens song drawn to the tide,

In the depths of the deprived,

Under rocks lie things we can save,

Check the waves, check the waves.

(I miss Swansea)