Twofer Tuesday Poetry: Pipeline of Madness & Silence is Chaos

Pipeline of Madness

Noises in the pipeline
Vibrate through the body
Restless – no comfort
When does the peace return
Echoes swarming the head
Melancholy – sigh
The light breaks through eyelids
Join the madness or die
With eyes burned –

Silence is Chaos

With so much noise in the world
One wishes for silence and solitude
When this is achieved
One wishes for companionship
A vicious cycle with no end
When is one satisfied
With what one has
When does all the noise
Become too much
When does one find peace
In a world filled with
Chaos, pain, and abundance

From the poetry collection Cats, Coffee, Catharsis.

Twofer Tuesday Poetry: Coffee Creativity & Hashtag Religious Cult Leader Problems

Coffee Creativity

Most of my creativity
Has happened in coffee shops
I can never work at home
I never feel comfortable
Sometimes silence is nice
But the ambience
Of a coffee shop
I can’t explain how I
Block out the noise
But can’t block out
Noises in other places
I think it’s the coffee
Something about the beverage
It calms me and helps me create

Hashtag Religious Cult Leader Problems

Why is it so hard
To find virgins over
The age of thirteen
If I wanted to
Make a blood sacrifice
To my evil demon gods
I’d have to kill a child
And that goes against
All my values – 
I’m fine with killing
An adult because
Adults are stupid
Children haven’t learned
To be stupid yet – 
I might be overthinking this

From the poetry collection Cats, Coffee, Catharsis.

Twofer Tuesday Poetry: Anxious Creatures & Hiatus

Anxious Creatures

So many Twits
And Faces and Grams
With Snaps and Pins
Inside Tubes and Clouds
The world digitized – 
Despite the Links
We are disconnected
Alone
With a rectangle
Hidden in our pocket
And a fear
Of meeting a person
In person
Slaves in digital chains – 
We are social creatures
With social anxiety
So, we blog and post
And watch and like
Puttering in our homes
Day and night

Hiatus

I went four years without sex
I didn’t pursue it but didn’t reject it
Unless I was absolutely certain
That it was mutual consent
Either we were both sober
Or both drunk
Women liked being around me
Because I didn’t try to fuck them
Some of them wanted to fuck me
I was lonely but much happier

From the poetry collection Men Are Garbage.