Revelation 12:11
And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, and they did not love their lives to the death.
And so it was,the eyes were swords wielded on girls half- drunk on their lover’s cars outside of the bar last Tuesday.
My mother overdosed on hymnals six weeks ago, leaving me with ma man and two options, flight or fight.
I chosen either and now I’m wearing two pairs of socks; if were going to be honest, it doesn’t matter how many socks I put on because I hate socks and I wish I didn’t have any on.
To me, LBJ is a con, just like Jesus and seat belts and all the dying men who still have teeth in the bottom of their closet.
Someone probably forgot to brush their teeth today, which doesn’t bother me one bit, but might bother you, so I thought i would include it.
I want to be teeth and tongue and the weightlessness of bird bones.
Cane is asleep on my doormat like a dead dog and it’s blasphemy if I do it, but I bring him inside anyway,his eyes broken and bleeding,weeping for a bottle half full.
And still it seems, a life half lived is all were ever gonna be.
“Death is swallowed up in victory. O Death, where is your sting? O Hades, where is your victory?
There’s no daylight in Vietnam.
I love this feeling the piece invokes in me, yet I can’t really explain it? This is like your last piece, with the collage of pictures, and I really feel like your poetry/prose benefits from that added detail. Do you know who this artist is? All the pictures seem to be from the same person.
Inspired by history? I love this in all its political reflection.
These pictures are dope and the little blurbs of text you have between them is even doper. Kudos, dude.