Scurvy Dogs

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THE PIRATES WHO DO NOTHING

I eb and flow
I'm to and fro.
I make stops here and there
But exact positions are unknown.
Northern wind absent
Or perhaps I sit teary eye'd
Staring into irons
Waiting for a change in the wind
To move me.
Mental image dawns:
A bloodied rutter arm
Scares me back
To the crow's nest.
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My mom wouldn't let me rent it.

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THAT SHIT WAS TOO HARD

Dr. Duodenum moans,
"Jim you bastard!
Do the job you were meant for!"
E.J. paces
And walks away,
Tired of snotty heroism
And misunderstood hi jinx.
A tired clown goes home
Back to being
Tired Jim.
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Back and again.

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TRAITOROUS

Inside me
Is a bottle
Of her majesty.
A portable bastion of righteousness.
A star in my heart
Not unlike,
"The one who lives at the top of the stair's" trespasser.
Temple of doom
Ritual commences.
Nothing is found,
No heart,
No star.
They are deeper yet,
Un-reachable.
Sunken to my feet.
My heart.
My star.
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I just wanna leave it.

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JITTERS

Uninspired measurements pile up
With no end in sight.
My lemming belief system
Brought me here.
Experience has taught me
And I am too good a student.
Leaving life for others
While failure and chance hang around
My neck.
Unrealized key,
That which cannot be lost
Still cannot shake me from my slumber.
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This isn't about Jessica Biel or was she in that other movie about magicians?

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THE PRESTIGE

My love for you is stronger than any magic.
Moving constellations in my universe.
Sharing starry nights,
Cities apart.
Every morning a sunset delivered,
Coffee made and breakfast consumed.
What's a few hours difference?
They are still our moments,
But only when we want them.
Tenderness brought to light
Proving ownership.
We are.
We are what happens when love appears.
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What is it good for?

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REGULATED

Love is plague
And miracle;
Murderous rage maker
And beautiful life maker.
The O.G.
The first "Great One".
Manwe's older brother, left from the texts,
Named "Catch 22".
An opportunity
And a congruous compromise.
Give and take.
Forget math,
Lest you live in a zero sum
Game.
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School is like this.

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DO I WANNA GO BACK?

My shoes are too tight
And my shirt is bunching.
My pockets are full of change
And candy wrappers;
An Amalgam
Of the nearly useless
Experiences today.
Thirst dawns
And useless becomes "Soda pop" primer
Slowly converting to a pocket full
Of stress experiences.
Fingers struggle to understand
"Feelings"
And intuition goes blind.
Today was a resume' builder,
I hope I get the job.
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Oops butterfingers

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E.S.P.

Figuring nothing
But plans to remove
My sweat and blood
Now consciously converted
As pulp and cotton.
Leading off with failure
To deliver
Less fallacy.
I trusted for truth.
Left with pavement spanning
Roads forced by worthless trust
Paved without need or knowledge
Left with none
To trust?
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Tempest-er

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KARLTRINA

This prose is feverish.
Heart in throat,
Pressure pushing,
Keeping me from my bono vox.
So I stop,
Like a break in the storm.
Yellow skies afire
And that slight pressure
That the universe uses
To tell you there's more.
Back in a flash!
Pent rage and fear fly by finger flick.
Confusion falling,
A misrepresentation
Due to these harsh environs.
So storm dies
But quietly rages on
Secretly assuring bright twilight
And stony slumber.
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Don't worry bout' em

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THEY'RE NIHILISTS JOHNNY

I'll pass along these words,
These carefully planned out words.
Shaped and molded
To resemble instrument of inquisition;
Forced like embalming loop
To mash and remove your brains.
"Implant my ideas
As they are clearly more reasonable,
Logical and clear."
Every body greeted
By this cold assumption of succor;
Belief in an unsung philanthropy
Is truly divisive,
Splitting you and I
As I fall prey time and again
To caste ruling
Of my own branding.
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