The Tongue that Wasn't

January 9, 2010
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I thought it was your tongue,
But could it be that the desire that oozes
From the dark cave
Of forgotten dreams
Pours onto the false lip of reality?

The false lip
That did speak unspeakable crimes
Chapped glory,
Cold un-fired lust
That could best be described as the face of terrors
Unknown to the eyes of this quaking un-holding beholder
Of youthful tragedy?


Perhaps that tongue-like enigma
Is the very lick of the soul
That permeates the darkness of forgone
Conclusions that conclude to construct
That cavernous cave of conniving kinetic calamity?

It can not be...

Or could it be
That the abyss
Of my own deeds,
The murky oil-stained front that holds
The residue of my sins,
Past, present and the time that is to be
Is to bottom out,
To give way to the
Tempestuous weight of the justice-sodden
Demon that was begot,
That was instilled and fermented
By blood-scattered ashes
Of the self
and the pleasure

No,my friend of little resignation,
I turn in despair and in the mid-summer
Of my
To see the Pork Chop of Infidelity,
Inking its judgement upon my

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Vanished said...
Jan. 25, 2010 at 7:06 pm
Ah, the United Kingdom! As an American, I am fascinated with the concept of traveling around the world. London is merely a vague futuristic dream, and I want (Ah, the expression "Want"!) to see everything in our dying world - places that induce me to gaze in wonder, and places that shake me and make me cringe in horror.
I have read a great deal of pieces of poetry, whether online, in books, in frayed notebooks, or read aloud from people in the streets (I've traveled all t... (more »)
Listentomelistentomyheart said...
Jan. 25, 2010 at 10:39 am
http :// .com /watch?v=DxLdhmAqvAE This is a lovely video we found of someone reading my work!! Can you believe it? I feel very welcomed!! Thanks, guys!!
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