Reboot

an airplane to the moon
things won’t go back to the way they were
caught in an impossible position
the world I was born in, is gone
you suffer, while angels cry
sailing around the world on the Gulf Stream
names that are normal no more
pulled out of the wreckage of your life
in the bleached, frozen wastes, we found god

constantly talking, but saying nothing
I feel like all my dreams are broken
useless angels look down from the sky
like something from a Disney movie
I feel like I’m wasting my time
all they have are platitudes
empty words that mean nothing
empty words that achieve nothing
empty words that commit to nothing

a fake friend
here no one knows your name
dolts upstairs making a ruckus
Life is not like a diamond
crying on the airplane
purposelessness
a saint from Elsewhere
smurfs and serfs
we’re just colonies in the periphery

the big step
flying under Friendly Skies
a nobody from nowhere
passed over by Greatness
if there’s a cake, it’s going to be smashed
you always think of yourself as a young person
saying goodbye to the guilt you had
the Sad Team
landlocked in the past

a frog on another planet
the existential weekend
the one who mourns
your whole life in an email inbox

Please do not repost without my permission, but you can support my poetry here! Originally written 3/16/21. Copyright, All Rights Reserved. All art, not from the author, belongs to the original artists. This particular piece of art is by Durer.

Equilibrium

things are never going to be the same
it doesn’t matter now
born on the wrong planet
why I struggle
Proportionality
careful, circumscribed, discreet
one of the dream team
the biggest supporter, who benefits the least
the Doors are Closing

everything is a shade of gray
mega-pointless life
went into the future
wandering around somewhere
another timeline we could have taken
only in art, does life have the most meaning
too social. like burnout social
play the drums; hold the remote
Benzene Tacos

the rising tide of culture
alchemy to chemistry and living forever
the bottom of the video game world
dead god, lost god
the diary of a sh*tposter
AWPed into the ground
the wrath god
a Dark Messiah
a fierce spirit, a fierce daemon

call down god, from the cloud
look, another beautiful follower
Djinn-spirits, Asura war
still a human, not yet a god
disciples and gods
reproducing the Temple of Heaven
the Realm of the spirits, animals, and the gods
the sky opens up and the angels cry out
you don’t have to find the return

it’s not the same
we are not the same
the myths and the lies that we tell ourselves
valets and jesters

Please do not repost without my permission, but you can support my poetry here! Originally written 2/21/21. Copyright, All Rights Reserved. All art, not from the author, belongs to the original artists. This particular illustration is by the great poet and artist William Blake.