Loveache

breaking the stone bridge
made of star radiation
a line that runs through Eurasia
the Pocky stick snaps
no words for what you’re feeling
at the precipice of faith
they wanted to believe
mutual understanding with others
The roads of Bimini

onslaught of a mathematical “angel”
unfolding net configuration matrix
Inherent to the country of “Heaven”
not your seonbae’s bitcoin
saying much, while meaning little
energy rays distorting time and space
gods of the old world
earnings whisperer
fluent in internet

thinking in money
a hologram, not a hack
the true form of the “angel”
Giant Forest Guardian Spirit
Onboard AI course correction
the birth of a lower sentient species
directionless, somewhere in the universe
Without a backward glance
Realm of the gods

aliens from the spirit world
a more ancient world
her last devoted friend
Forgotten Tuesday
it’s saying goodbye
love older than the sea
told what to be
dusty roads of history
futuristic petrol station

the hero you wanted to be
just a mess of errors
sacrifices and petty surrenders
home of the memers

Please do not repost without my permission, but you can support my poetry here! Originally written 7/17/20. Copyright, All Rights Reserved. All art, not from the author, belongs to the original artists. This particular work is a Tarot card, from A. E. Waite’s Rider-Waite deck.

Time to Cry

there was a whole plot above you
three shirts
admonish and upbraid
let go of shockwaves from the future
wrong answer
replicate and resonate, for all time
Oh well,
it doesn’t matter now
a ring that arcs across the top of the world

you’re always invested in the act
you were going down a wormhole
you can tell the difference
someone had to do the math
you’re not supposed to say that
blue in blue
something’s not right
it had no meaning
your Lord and Savior

The Hunt for Supersoldier-X
Evolved the species into the ground
secrets of the Minoans and Phoenicians
begin to square with your reality
empty
the rubber band effect
happiness is blue
it doesn’t matter anymore
it’s not wrong, it’s just mean

follow the Oder, to the sea, and the chalky Rugen
Sailor moon and ancient Steppe warriors
a machine of the epics, lost to the primeval ice
Nosedive into Hell
Isolated nodes and hyper-connected networks
no one cares
wrong adjective
you can delete it
dating ends

I’m not missing anything
100% loser
a life that is thin
there are no sacred goats

Please do not repost without my permission, but you can support my poetry here! Originally written 2/13/21. Copyright, All Rights Reserved. All art, not from the author, belongs to the original artists.