Culture cravings

Let's divine. Culture

All you need is belief 

That a sheaf

Of fleet-sweets

Wreathed In the fire of a collapsing soul

Can breathe easy

 leaping Steeps

Reaping feats of expression 

That could shatter past the old

And there you have it.

You've divined some Culture 

It's good an bold

But you just need

These trigger happy

Sappy- sick tigers

To quit the addict writ 

Of the second rate wildfire

interweb wit

And deal with it

Rolling through selfdom

And purpose so seldom

from A "God knows who!"

a "who knows where!"

To a"Where are you,  god!"

And deal with it.

So that our friends 

The denizens of closed world posturings

Caving to craving screens

Can scream the velocity

Of the powers unseen

And zen the when and how

Exactly to offend

Breaking chemistry into our woes

And veins splitting open rain pain

Dissolving vultures of disbelief

Let us culture some divine

At the very least 

Five pebbles of the Roman God

First point of context: I am of roman descent, I believe. From the romans that lost themselves in england as the empire fell apart. I know tht my history has been since then exceptionally american. We were trappers, gold miners, and explorers. Every man in our close history has either gone adventuring, or lived a life that precipitated adventure. I believe very fully that the spirit of the setting sun and adventure nestles in my bones, whether or not it does. 

Second point of context: I love the story of david and goliath.  I remember a picture from my childhood storybook bible, and I will never release myself from this myth. David is charged, as a boy(as a roman boy, by the looks of my little book) to find five smooth stones by the riverside and to go and face goliath. He slays the giant with only one. 

Pebbles of the Roman God

I have 

Five pebbles

Just like 

Five seeds

All my own

The stones

Remind me of home

Migrant of rome

To challenge he

Who makes the land rumble

I have

A small man

Just like

A best friend

That I will never understand

Childlike,

He sows 

And he knows

That truth and justice betters all blows

He's the undistinguished  unmasked maker

Here to represent the savior

Passionate through the lord's own heart

That you've been looking at

Through a strange sepia strength

That you've developed at length

To milk the justice from his claws

To scream out beauty from his paws

But which never seems to give

It takes

Because you just can't create god for god's sake!

So now I have

Five reeds

Grown from

Five seeds

That seem to wander from my needs

Like the roman sentries 

That scoured the mist

Of a land lost in the ocean

Of chalk and moorish cliffs

Where is your empire now?

My friends,

Who is your savior now?

Because I don't know 

I never will

So while we're here

While we're left in our wasteland

And break the virgin snow

why not let these pebbles grow 

The best introduction

I write short poems because i work short poetry like a short ranged fighter jet or something 

That's why i feel like i'm entitled to this really long introduction that contains vital but uninteresting information 

Like breathing 

I think i may just breathe to you this next piece and let you squirm in your seats like some silly sadist reaching over

The crowd in my mind full of curved wits like knives ready a cut me the fool 

Cut me and pool the bleded words I could a sworn held more of an impact than a breath

But because i value your time and maybe even value my blood I'll throw this next like a spacecar ramped up to huperdrive

Ripping all the shits you never give alive

And maybe even haunt you as i take a seat by you on the floor

And try to ignore the cheers or jeers and beers that i feel perfectly old enough to drink goddammit!

I take kindly to the sidetrack but ne'er quite before have i surfaced this much plated gold shit to purpose as a pre-performance wit 

Now, understandably, we're all sick of it 

So here it goes:

My poem:

....

Fuck

Blackbeat brightness

Why don't I stay up all night? If all I would enjoy by the light lives in bronze and scintillation that's sheer enervative sensation

All much too awful o describe by a hive striving deadly to stay alive through our own contamination flooding forests burning nations in my mind and everything at everything's signed off to the divine that I can't truck with in the daytime but in this catacomb of ways I find much more than men of days and haze 

I find a charcoal-blackened maze

Fit to fill me 

As it may

Tunnels

Sometimes I wish I could stay in the tunnel forever

Then I might forage my way
To the deep that is the heights
Of my fantasy's arrangement
Where else do I go
When the sun seems so silty

I could hone a comfort place
Full of Innocence pertinence
In the succulence of space
Caught trapped
Invited to Dine
Dine in low light salty light
Reverie

By the tunnels that neither promise nor defeat
Our ignorant upbeat