PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It was Day 1 when it was scorching hot and we crossed paths.

I was looking for an oasis to drink from,

Though a hug from you was a thousand times better

Because afterwards, we went swimming in the lake and laughed at the gold diggers passing by.

Poor men were oblivious that they mined their last nugget in this desert.

It was Day 2 when we continued our journey.

You introduced me to your bitches when you brought me home.

One licked me silly while the second took a while to come around.

It was only trying to judge me to see if I would be a menace to your family.

I’ve always liked the playful, funny, and carefree breeds.

It was Day 3 when you showed me your larger-than-life garden.

You spoke of how your brother and mother had toiled day and night tending to it.

The garden was shaped like the number 5 and I couldn’t be happier.

You regaled me with stories of an ancient civilization that once existed in this land of the dead.

Every word from your tongue between breaths was like a missing page in a book lost in time.

It was Day 4 when I crawled on my knees after a beating from a two-faced sergeant

Looking for you so you could lift me back on my two feet and hold me close

But to add insult to injury, you held your scorn like you should’ve held my hands.

So I passed out on the floor and was left for dead out in the open.

How do indecisive weeds like you sleep at night?

It was Day 5 when I woke up expecting you’d be there, but your home was empty.

Your garden was withered and the magic was gone so it turns out that it was all a mirage.

You can rationalize your actions and demonize me any way you like,

But when you save your second thoughts for one minute before midnight,

It’s goodbye and good riddance to you weeds.

So I left. It was better for me to abandon you before you inevitably did the same.

The world is full of snakes and trojans as it is.

It’s best for me to give them a dose of their own venom as soon as I see right through them.

You should’ve told me earlier rather than at the last minute.

Or when I have fallen and can’t get up.

Then maybe we could’ve still been friends.

But now you’re just another silhouette that shears hearts like hedges.

If you’re looking to post an ad requesting company in a moment of loneliness,

Think again before you shatter another heart or wager your sanity.

A weed ain’t cut out for love, let alone a friendship

If it can’t make up its mind and let its loneliness fog its judgment.

Poor guy should’ve inspected the thorns before he picked the rose.

Now it’s my turn to wager a few things,

I bet you don’t even miss me.

I bet you feigned regret that you added salt in the wound.

I bet that you’ll forget all about me after the weekend I disappeared.

I bet you’ll cower in the arms of the two bitches you value most in life.

I bet you’ll start looking for another soul that you’ll pray to Aphrodite you won’t screw over.

Whatever happens to you, I am grateful that I have kin to keep tight

And an adventure I continue to embark on in the desert with or without you there for me.

You’re just another silhouette that shears hearts like hedges.

Living with pain is the curse of my soul;

the Grand Architect told me I was a poet

before my time, my words too never die;

the devil and I made a pact...

curse mankind, evoke and deliver the

Antichrist- From the dark side of the

moon to the coldest side of the sun, I

radiate heat with a cold heart....cursed be

thy name upon all that is holy and

righteous- momentary lapse in reason are

now regular relapses without reason or

'idea of,' no point intended....

To those whom an apology is owed; you

will not get it from me. Curses upon thee,

those who deny me, creator of criticism;

when all else fails my soul prevails. My

writings cannot be constructively

critiqued, for I tell it like it is, similar to a

deadly disease you know it's spreading

manifesting its potency until you are fully

engaged or comfortably numb. A bad

omen foretold me of the curses to come,

including the birth of my first child; a

blessing I have yet to witness....only

embarrassment towards my child's mother;

I am the curse in her life, the agony of her

lament, and the poet she wishes never met.

Invocations of malice and melancholy;

happiness will be death, malignant in nature.

Each and everyone, yes, you the reader,

life's dreamer, has a story to tell, hold that

thought, mine is better, and only I can tell it

well. Forgiveness is best to ask than

permission; neither do I ask for, I am absolute,

soon to rule over biblical fanatics, fucken

hallelujah!! 

Soulkritic® 2014©

I open my door

From whence I was called fore

And have a scare beyond compare

As I see nothing—

I feel nothing.

Where there should be light

Where a corridor tends to preside

The emptiness now to abide.

The world has ended

I tell myself, suspended

In a mindset of terror

Then, a light

That floods the hall in which I stand

And I blink in the bright

As comes into focus

The features of my comrade 

Who smiles and begins to laugh

At the panic I had.