Poem-A-Day: Day 292

Sonnet #57 (All Shook Up)

because it knows I have no time to search,
I, looking up if only for disdain
as ramblings of a madman, drunkard’s plea
in helping relieve bitter from the bland,
for better things, and better days ahead
manage to masquerade my humble life
seated high above on its devil perch,
and swamp the land in agony and dread,
but lose the edge while walking on the knife,
like looking keen ahead to help me drown
and end up in the same disaster spree.
Instead I drive the blissful from the brain.
     Somewhere distorted bottles lend a hand.
     The bottle’s tempting vision stares me down…

Poem-A-Day: Day 291

Sonnet #56 (Configuration of Thine Artful Waste)

Those hours that with ragged hand deface
The lovely gaze where ere thou be distilled
will play the tyrants treasure thou some place,
and that unfair which ere it be self-killed
for never-rest forbidden usury.
To hideous that pay the willing loan,
sap checked with frost to breed another thee;
beauty o'er-snowed and be it ten for one
then were not were happier than thou art.
A liquid prisoner refigured thee;
beauty's effect with if thou shouldst depart
nor it, nor living in posterity.
     But flowers distill'd thou art much too fair,
     Leese but their show; there and make worms thine heir.

An amalgamation of Shakespeare's Sonnets V and VI

Poem-A-Day: Day 290

Spilling Brain

Sometimes I feel there’s nothing left,
nothing left swimming in my brain,
my brain is an empty bowl filled with water,
with water sloshing around and spilling,
and spilling all over the floor,
the floor tells me stories that I remember,
I remember there’s always something more,
something more that manifests like words,
like words that happen to spill out my brain.

Poem-A-Day: Day 289

Oops

There is nothing worse
Than waking to find remorse
That you’ve shit yourself

Poem-A-Day: Day 288

Sonnet #55 (Missing Pieces)

…there
…will,
…where
…still
…the poor
…men
…explore,
…than
…those
…who
…chose
…adieu,
…not leaving,
…believing.

Poem-A-Day: Day 287

Understatements of Clockery

tick tick tick
the clock ticks strange sounds
ticking sounds that I’ve never heard
but they sound familiar
through the unfamiliar ticking
tick tick tick
and I can’t quite make it out
where I’ve heard it
what was the circumstance of the sound
and why it happened to be
tick tick tick
trying to find the sound
trying to pinpoint the exact location
the point of the maddening ticking
the passing of time
tick tick tick
I just can’t manage to understand
or comprehend the madness
the strange sound of ticking
that I have yet to hear fully
tick tick tick
tick tick
tick

Poem-A-Day: Day 286

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