Poetry: Void

Void

If nobody reads this, I’ll not be surprised,
I’ll die down here; my lack will be my goodbye,
Scrawled out for naught; lost cause, sunk cost.
The disaster I was after, my fault, my fate abides.

My words, shed as shrapnel, underscore the void,
wounds worn as jewelry, so tarnished and destroyed.
Wretched at the outset, what rot can wither shade?
Sick to surmise by the time this hits eyes I’ll have died.

I’d never been so scared, endured such pain my vision blurred,
avail void cries for help, this voice worth no words.
No telling what decay awaits, the callousness incurred.
No one will read this; none will find this fallen, frightened bird.

I’ll be forgot, all eminence null, inane,
whole life, hole in my life, blight upon the grain.
Sordid sort of ordeal all vacant and profane,
feckless, failed endeavor just as well circle the drain.

Such toil void; reap tips for toilet water spiral smile,
a diamond decrying its facets to its face.
Flush with shame bidet soaked in denial,
waste away, decay awaits assured a firm embrace.

Dear world, love the memory that’s become of me; love what never was.
Love the things you loved in me when I was all you loved.
Happiness has had its chance, now sorrow has a try.
Sorry, now, for all my flaws; all my love, goodbye.

Poetry: For Elise

For Elise

Behind the sun I sat beside your laughter,

it fell too fast.

Caress the strange resounding phrase, “I love you.”

It broke like glass.

Get up! The ground has held us down for too long,

we crawl like rats.

Elise, give me no need to be your savior.

The pain should pass.

Your fortune, fame, and name will wither.

Dear friend, downfall.

Your leisure, love, and life is tethered

to such a wall.

Give up the chains that chase your freedom,

release your fear.

Assume the worst in all these heathens.

The end is near.

Beneath the stars I sacrificed such virtue

to see this through.

Beyond the pale perverted purview,

could it be true?

Betrothed to scars our passion ends encumbered

with your disease.

Beside your grave I sat beside your slumber,

Elise, at peace.

Poetry: Memorabilia

Memorabilia

Nothing good can come of this.
It’s all gonna go down.

What will they say, what will we be
when there is nothing left?

When the world destroys these parasites,
what life comes crawling from the ashes?
Feeding on destruction,
cause it won’t be hard to find.

Will our world exist within their minds
as they sift through our remains?
Our sons and daughters will find us scattered
and wonder what became
of the life we built, the things we changed
In the world that we had reigned.

So little will endure that they’ll search forever
and piece together what little still remains.
Creep and crawl across the landfill
that we have called our home for so long.

What tales they’ll tell, of evil beings
who gave way so they could live.

Nothing good can come of this.
It’s all gonna go down.

Poetry: Aid Abnormal

Aid Abnormal

Rub out the rare,
exhaust the scarce,
exceptional is on the tip of collapse.
Weed out the odd,
exalt the common,
cease the strange and settle for general ease.

Cull peculiar,
forfeit bizarre
borrow from evident, peddled forevermore.
Unseat unique,
exit exotic,
deify tried and true despite the bore.

The rules replaced
shall rest in peace.
Dissent decides to try demented design.
Standard repeat,
stylize defeat.
Collect the mold and sever the same to nigh.

End the definitive,
end the defined.
Stay different as deference permits.
Aid abnormal,
aid abominable.
Be all of a sum of salubrious fits.

Poetry: Ashes to Ashes

Ashes to Ashes by Brad Scott

Ashes to Ashes

Dust

settles on your brain,

in the place I used to be,

always.

Lies

collect and stir the dust,

upset us once again.

Do

you want to be

alone?

Find yourself

now that you’re lost.

I am

on the brink of

falling

down

to your level again.

I am not

the kind of person

who bleeds to feel

alive.

Dust

settles memories

in my mind you’re dead

and gone.

Down

on your knees again,

you look so helpless, I love you.

In a crash

of passion

you allow yourself to become

nothing.

In my mind

you’ve always been

nothing.

I am on the brink

of falling

further

from the truth I stole.

I’ve become

the kind of person

who needs to be

defined.