Ingest In Jest (Sonnet)

A churning, turning act of eating,

The need of material for consumption,

All creatures worship love of feeding

To quench the thirst of satisfaction.

The fear of dire, quick starvation

Turns human to animal again and again.

Caloric need is just an equation,

The math that turns violent beast to man.

The mind sustains on nutritious energy.

An egg that is cracked without its strength

To soothe and provide for harmony

That a being goes for at any length.

Food is life if you are living.

We take all that the world is giving.

Calm

Can you see the sky opening up
Pouring glass down to our streets and
The homes

And showing us the heavens?
Singing of droplets on wet grass,
And concrete

Can you see the angry lightening
Crashing into the unsubstantial parts
Of our minds

As the chaos of the gods fight for our hearts?
Near our beliefs, and it is
Shattering

Not yet, there is only calm before a storm.
Flowing to the heavens.
Forever.

(Note: I wrote this when I was 16, and I still feel as though I could never write something better.)

A slender neck… (Sonnet)

A slender neck with which to reach the heavens,
To taste the vegetation of Eden.
The weak and small perish, the strong strengthens:
Creature well-versed in the rules of famine.
The ones below must raise their chins up high
In awe, the glory of prehistoric times
As they watched species fall, succumb and die
And sweet nectar travels north. How it climbs
With Darwin’s vertebrae embedded inside
And spotted fur like archipelagos.
Eyelashes batting, chest swelled in content stride
In Sahara grasses piled with bone’s echoes.
Crushed acacia scent from frightened calf
Treads the wise and proud beast of height: giraffe.

Poison (Villanelle)

Is her absence poison?
Does it infect your daily routine?
Who, besides yourself, has she chosen?

Could a chemical cure infatuation?
Is sleep the remedy to her love’s morphine?
Is her absence poison?

Who is to blame when it is over and done?
And you question why the she lit the gasoline?
Who, besides yourself, has she chosen?

Have you had enough of memories and maudlin?
Do you wish to return to the clean and pristine?
Is her absence poison?

Can you bear another face to be her foundation?
Does it pain you her heart is calm and serene?
Who, besides yourself, has she chosen?

Can you eat her soul until it is hidden?
Will you bury the thought of it till it’s unseen?
Is her absence poison?
Who, besides yourself, has she chosen?

To Rust

To what we couldn’t admit
So clever, sophic, deliberate
We weren’t
Our ascetic plans, cannot commit
Because we’re doomed and we know it
Still we won’t quit
Fire’s lit.
Anyone in love becomes a poet

Tell me what makes you tick
The absolute, honest, authentic
Don’t think,
That lonely trust makes us sick
Weakness makes us pessimistic
Seems aphotic
Cynic
We will just pretend to hear your music.

Even at our clearest
We confront, calcitrate, and witnessed
Needless
Tempting bait at all and any cost
No more precaution to exhaust
A line we crossed
Uncrossed
Let the now be in vain, decay and rust.