I used to scream in sanctuaries to make the church bells ring
You only wanted to sing
It wasn’t for attention I swear
It was so G-d could hear
The echo in this full space.
The gates of Hell were full
So you praised the lord
He hadn’t tasted enough blood
He wanted more
Seek his face, sharpen his teeth.
It’s for the sake of the economy.
I need my freedom
“I don’t need your liberty”
So come to the table
Mammon is hungry
You better not fucking scream
“I got a telephone in my bosom
And I can call him up from my heart”
But no one fucking picks up.
I’m here if you want to talk
Just don’t bring me down.
I am wearing the sound
Write it all
Inspire me with your fall
I will help you up.
Only if you will fill my cup.
I need some sweetness
I have no pallet for bitterness
Tie the cord around your neck
The crown doesn’t shine enough for me
‘I am sorry the number you are trying to call is no longer in service”
I know I haven’t posted in over 2 years. So many things have happened since then. Streaming on Twitch has been a start-and-stop process. I did end up getting a job for a while. I almost got off of Social Security when the Covid-19 pandemic broke. I no longer have that job and life as I knew it has dramatically changed. I have not left my apartment since March 23rd.
I have decided to start writing poetry again and utilize this space for it. I am going to release a poem daily Monday Through Friday. No attachments to outcomes, just writing.
Drinking alone is still better than alone
Streetlights,
A choir of a life we’re owed.
But he is unrepentant
Still staggered, a haggard priest.
Preaches a gospel of barfights.
He barely keeps himself upright.
Tonight’s a revival for the good ole’ pain
The scent of ammonia is the only thing that sings.
To sleep
Brings only the ache
Of nails in palms and the reminder that you couldn’t hang in
Just for one night.
The only empty tomb is the regrets.
Failure enough
To keep the dead living.
She was the first to witness you weren’t tough
Bad Poetry 