They call me blood when I **** the silence
I got a pen on paper and a flow like violence
I am so ill, I think I have a virus.
I need to blow these spineless rappers out of my sinus

Then I ate a sexist for breakfast
and I got so sick I spit gay rights into texas.
Rest in peace to all my ex's
I've got em stacked like 20's
in the trunk of my lexus.

-r0

insidious newsfeed.
apathetic "like"  
(I guess they're getting married.)
assessing my worth
'friend' counts and Klout scores.
modify your post to be pleasant,
as to 'dislike' something
deems it unworthy of notice.

"Just got arrested, #lol-- free breakfast."
We are becoming a collective
of aging selfies and
isolated narcissists.

dissociative culture.
I am desensitized to my own
most precious moments
and have condensed their value
into how many people
care enough to click a button.

blending into the numbers
we are in the back seat of our own lives
and our weekly web-content
is drunk behind the wheel.

You don't need a machine
or the internet
to tell you
you're anything less
than beautiful
and a star,
inside and
out.

-r0

Don't hold up
any mirrors
don't say a word
We are going to take a ride
to the ****** centers
of the mind
where
every neuron
sparks lighting of desire
and
in this breathing silence
there are no lies.

No please and thank you
no apologies are necessary
no one ever said abandonment
should be polite.

So let's make this silent vow
to keep this sacred circle
even in the harsh sunlight
of our cluttered houses
and in our cluttered little lives.

Transitionary lovers rarely remain
if you think about why this is too long
it will probably drive you insane.

Nobody really knows.

When you left the wife
left the life
left the husband
left the strife
at
least for a little while

You are

caught up in the sparkling, twinkling, incandescent
glowing opiates of love
finally
no pain remained.

There are
Smiles all around.

We danced so close in
night clubs like cruise ships
sailing to no where
and
no where to go

But
you are
leaving her
leaving him
leaving them
trying to forget what you already know.

Transitionary lovers rarely remain.

This one will be different
we are so different
we found this magic
and it will
be maintained
as
Days together go by
weeks and months too

But

In the end
the transitionary lover may have sparked
the change
from
here
to
there

The homes which were cozy
once again become lonely.

Life becomes a parking lot motel
staring out the window at the heat
displaced
trying to convince yourself
this is not too bad.

Transitionary lovers rarely remain
and
both of us will be on to the next one
Falling back into the routines
of
life, love, stability

Awaiting again for that transitory lover
to
take us where we need to go.

I stopped
inside a light house
on a dark and foggy night
and in the beacon
in the fog
I saw far too many sights.

Lovers lost in their pasts
uncompleted tasks
of shoulda coulda wouldas
"If only's"
blocking their
paths.

The ferrel human beings
with eyes of gold
but no money
to buy a room
running to nowhere soon.

The poetry outlaws
with no words
left to sing
lost within their prisons
and know one knows
what they mean.

The beacon flashed
and in the light
I saw those
trapped in drudgery
and fading dreams
of being free.

And lonely souls
in darkened rooms
of four white walls
with no where to go
and no one coming that they know.

The beacon flashed
in that fog
the horn it rang
to no one listening
but the ships lost at sea
heard something
but asked themselves
was it really meant for me?

It
Spotlighted lovers
on the far sides
of the bed
their love lost
in what is now
misery and dread.

Wage slaves breathing toxic air
and what's this life for
their breath asks
captured in the foggy air.

Stopped at that lighthouse
to look out at that foggy sea
was all about the poetry
and what it means to me
a light
on a foggy
populated sea
and
life told in scenes
about
those who struggle to be free.