Plastering The Interweb With Fragmented Thought
fragment
Collecting Fragments Of Free Thought
Collecting fragments of free thought
The missing pieces of a discarded word
Unknown & forgotten loves in innerspace
Unfortunately time reduces us by a third
Intellectuals hunkered down – protecting wisdom
Throwing bones, sharpening knives & wit
Critical theories to counteract
The cultural elite reminding me I ain’t shit
But I continue down my solitary path
Creating worlds out of the persistently intangible
I return- baring all for artistic intent
But alas this vessel’s no Michelangelo
We’re Allowing The Modern World To Dwindle
We’re allowing the modern world to dwindle
We’ve neglected love & now slowly it dies
Crashing back to from where it came
We’ve messed up this most recent of our tries
A fragmented society in this world of hate
Our streets filled with torch bearing vigilantes
But I’m choosing compassion & joy
I’d rather chase you around in your scanties
Junky Little Notes
Junky little notes
Throwaway lines on the postmodern stage
Cultural fragmentation in empty streets
Truth whittled away on an evaporating page
The disillusionment of an appropriated life
While the world’s on fire; downright ablaze
The American Dream sold off to the lowest bidder
Feeling dissociative in these recent raucous days
Our dishonest & unaccountable government
Are trying to sell you their uninspired vision
Trying to sway your vote by gripping your throat
But their cockamamy pleas will be met with only derision
Looking To Transmit The Broken Fragments
Looking to transmit the broken fragments
To leave nothing at the bottom of the pail
Set out – exposed in the baking dog day sun
Mis-remembered, but not quite a tragic fail
I’m Seeking A Truth
I’m seeking a truth within these fragmented words
My thoughts won’t cooperate with how my fingers move
Typing on this old handmedown machine to transform
My mundane existence into a magical, deliberate groove
I am not afraid to expose the flesh of a wilted soul
There are no heroes in these parts, just broken misanthropes
Internalizing the segmented society & all the villains
Returning to coffee so black the void regains precious hope
It Was A One-Eyed Kind Of Morn
It was a one-eyed kind of morn
With evening’s festivities going awry
I scrawled out all I could remember
Once a gentleman, turned drunken guy
Slight images of a lovely form
Olfactory sparks upon my brain
Sketching the party’s guest list
But no new faces could remain
Racking my skull for a proper memory
Writing down every & each detail
Compiling a list to rediscover
I’m trying to think, but it’s to no avail
A faceless gown with affectionate gloves
Somehow my mind is able to recall
Cognitive fragments begin to linger
Clouded out by last night’s alcohol
Scenes slowly begin to return
I believe we were out on the dance floor
An embrace of smoldering desire
Yet I couldn’t figure out any more
Scraps of notes spread before me
No identity to place upon the truth
Scant reason to be shy in my search
Basking in honesty of my lapsed youth
Cobwebs have been sparsely lifted
Won’t think of her in the passed tense
Her ghostly touch encourages me yet
We shall meet again, I firmly sense
To hold her with determined spirit
Seems fantastical at this sad rate
Yet she’s left fingerprints upon me
Remaining until I succumb to my fate
Captain Q 