Is it already past midnight?

It’s already past midnight?

I guess I’ll sleep when I sleep,
Rest’s not that important.

Instead, I’ll keep cadence
Reminiscing on cadence,
Waiting for Taps.

I crumple the sheets, a failure contemplating:
What is it that makes a man?
What struggle overcome?
What prize attained?

I don’t know, dude.
I can’t honestly say I have a clue.
What am I even striving for?

Anyway, it’s over now,
And I’ve gotta move on.

Can’t say it’ll be easy, though.

Making Buddy headbang to Nicki

Whiskey makes my bones shake,
And I’m having trouble typing.
‘Motivational’ wubs inspire poetry,
To be called great by idiots.

On this night,
I feel the dead gods in my blood,
Coursing like my .5% BAC.

There is no past,
On this night there is no compromise,
One more shot to remember the future.
A violence churns as I party alone.
A writer writes, infuriated by his subordinates.

He has no Medevac waiting for him,
Calling ‘Suppressing Fire!’ has no effect,
Except a stagger and a disorderly conduct.
Alone, this booze-fueled warrior, I, will fall.

Imagine the hangover?

A poem for Georgia the cockatiel

A poem for Georgia the cockatiel

Days like today,
Remind me of the past.
Warmth of the cold
A love I hope will last.
You fear I will not answer,
Upon your fearful call.
I would simply die,
If I ever hurt you at all.
I would end others’ to protect yours.
I would die without you.
I fear for you as I fear for myself.
Daily, I fight to get over you.
You are stuck like a wrench in a cog.
My mind will always come back to you.
The fact that you called,
Shows me you feel the same.

Flashback

Flashback

The thrill of penetrating,
The power you feel
As you tear open someone’s soul.
Someone blank,
Someone who blankets themselves in false security,
Someone who can be cracked open.
The pure joy you feel
As this person confides in you,
And you know:
You are their confidant,
Their friend,
Their Witness.
You witnessed the Messiah within,
Peaking out to see the world about.
You formed an elastic bond,
One that will not break.