Tomorrow Never Comes (Spoken Word Poetry Video)

Another spoken word poetry video! This one is for my poem “Tomorrow Never Comes.” Public domain music here: Irama Gema – Ignis Fatuus of Ascetism, Resolution and Time. Enjoy!

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Maze Filled with Flowers (a poem)

A maze filled with flowers
They wither in my hands
I weep to pass the hours
Only the diseased understand
I’m lost, can’t be found
Wandering the maze forever
I come to the tall mound
At the maze’s exact center
The cyclops eye stares
The giant beast awakens
His growling fills my ears
With the suffering of nations

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Fury and Wonder (a poem)

In the savage beauty of springtime
The world opens, screams my name
The Idol of my ancestors was cruel
She contains just as much evil
As the goodness that keeps everything
Merged in musical chaos

That smile on your face – who is it for?
It is warped and mischievous
And your sharp teeth bite into me
Like a cold night-wind, unrelenting

Why do I write to you anymore when
It’s clear my master has forbidden me?

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Extinction (a prose poem)

Extinction is the only way. It happens slowly. I am walking in the winter streets; everyone is a stranger. Even the people I know. We can’t know who people really are. Maybe this is a side effect of grief. There are considerable and small losses, but they accumulate over a lifetime.

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Singing the Psalms and Hymns (a poem)

These psalms written on my skin
Tattoos, remind me of my kinsfolk
Midnight, the clock sounds its stroke
When everything slowly begins
To unravel, the world madly spins
In the blood, we are soaked
Of depravity, we are kings
We sing the psalms, the hymns
Tumble down the mountain
Thunder rumbles within
Street-prophets laugh, grin
Never getting out alive
Our society on the fringe
We arrive, survive
Redemption for our sins
These psalms written on my skin

(Photo by Eugene Chystiakov on Unsplash)

Shadow Footsteps (a poem)

Underneath the cold, hard ground
I found the key to my soul
And I praised the gods of winter
Who enjoy the dead trees
And fallen leaves that rustle
Like shadow footsteps

In dark nights of lore
The high priests were astounded
By the teenage Jesus
No one believed us
When we saw him heal the blind men
In the sticky subway station

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The Devil Hiding in Plain Sight (a poem)

The searchlight found the devil
Hiding in plain sight
He has always been a vessel
For the children of the night

He sees me in my dreams
I can never quite escape him
Whenever I go to scream
He peels off my skin

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Garden of Night (a prose poem)

I. A Dark Field

There is a field shrouded in darkness. You’ve been there before, though you only vaguely remember it. Maybe you saw it in a dream, but maybe, you were there in waking hours, but it’s buried deep inside your mind.

The field is like this: Cold, completely dark; the only sound is a groaning wind. There’s no moon in the sky, nor can you see where the sky and horizon meet because it’s as if you were blind. Yet, a fire burns far off in the distance, and you smell sulfur. The wind kicks ashes in your frost-bitten face.

You’ve been here before, you know it.

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My Scream was Muffled (a poem)

Who do you answer to?
We all serve someone, whether at the
Behest of a gun pointed at our chest
Or the collapsing sky and shifting
Sands beneath our tired feet

My scream was muffled by the millions
Of hands placed over my disgusting mouth

My words have no meaning anymore
I’ve taken a detour on
Information destruction highways
Where so much data is stored in
My false brain that I no longer
Know if I’m sane or part of the
Mega-corporation whole

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Over the Lust-Horizon (a poem)

Look out to the horizon
From the shore, there’s so
Much to explore

The endless expanse of sea
And the orange-red canvas of sky
You, my love, with me
In the nuclear dawn
Times of love and comfort
Amid the troubles we ignore
On our blanket on the sandy shore
Remembering those gone
And those yet to come
Humanity’s resilient thrust
Reptilian creature-rhythm
And love-making in ritual beds
The bright stars above our heads
Soaked sheets, ecstatic minds
Hide and seek, what did we find?
Consummation of our vows
Spiritual marriage of soul-thieves
Dusty books on our shelves
Hot coffee and hot sex
Breakfast on the beach
Neon lust and capitalism-sin
Feeding the monsters within
The philosophers’ smirk and grin
Sages and ancient whims
Look out to the horizon
From the shore, there’s so
Much to explore

(Photo by Luke Moss on Unsplash)