Glenn McCrary, 3 października 2012
Shan’t one discern
Between a reverie yet to conclude?
And unprecedented retribution?
Society may think it dexterous
To berate the triumph of others
And reprimand them
in exclusive and dire scrutiny
Though such a sycophant
Becomes aroused by
The fashioning of controversy
An indictment is questionable
Glenn McCrary, 3 października 2012
As the hail makes love to the streets
I query its vendetta with I
What had I done to be defamed
By such unforeseen chagrin
The sound ‘tis the climax of the horizon
Echoes that of a violinist scarred by sexual mortification
The harmony plays in quite a lovely manner
Could hook one quickly if not careful
Appeased I sit in a wooden, black chair
And saturate in fine rock refrains
A pacifying compensation if I may say
A scripted version of hell
Glenn McCrary, 3 października 2012
Oh, how such calligraphy glints
In the waking sun ‘tis betrayal
Post-ejaculatory nocturne
Such crucifixion of misery
Performs as an aid to impending tragedy
And obliterates the art ‘tis suicide
so that infants be branded with
a mark of amour that is profound
In each and every star lies
a distinct honor undefined
In due time all shall awaken
Arousing armistice
Glenn McCrary, 29 września 2012
The callous hands of clock towers
Age the ignominy that has become
The very face known as American society
6 billion pricks occupy every anus
Engraved within this universe
And the one prick who appeared distinctive
Behaved like that of an equal associate
What are such clocks good for
Minus aiding the counting of fiendish nightmares
Foolishly published by such an inviting succubus?
I rue when I had first acknowledged her existence
Glenn McCrary, 29 września 2012
Fuck! Her choices establish tragedies
The key that fosters felicity long since marred
But now she’s found the freedom she so passionately sought
It was gifted to her as a straight jacket
In the colour of her choice
Every evening she sleeps within such paraphernalia
As the solace pacifies her in classic tones
With the cushioning characterized as a mirror
Emulating the shape she has so flawlessly taken
Two years in the knapsack
And to your very eye I am the poster child
For used condoms and tampons
Am I not worth more than fish?
Glenn McCrary, 29 września 2012
During the pre-evening liturgy
Betwixt a shabby stall
Irate I sit scribing seasoned verses
Silent as an infant in production
Whilst the slaughtering of pacifism
Across the universe ‘tis my soundness
Perforated by the eerie current
‘Twas delivered via the vapors of her breath
Curtly, such graphic memories gnaw the very bones
Of what I had thought to be timeless romance
Though once again I’ve been forsaken
To drink all ‘twas left unsaid and unknown
Glenn McCrary, 19 września 2012
Tones of depreciation eject forth estuaries of spittle
Causing unsought billows of panic
Why can’t society be more appreciative
Instead of dejecting them
And divesting them of criticism
Communication is significant
Yet people omit it’s qualities
Glenn McCrary, 19 września 2012
For a while I fancied revivifying our alliance
Though I have satiated the cavern
I take honor in the many publications and poems
That years and years from I will compose
Even though you are a dogmatic hellion
You shan’t shun the clasp of fame
Glenn McCrary, 19 września 2012
A role is fashioned for each of us homosapiens to portray
Though what if such a role ‘twas fashioned
by a fallacious organization of fabulists
Who decode billions of renditions of one monograph
for narcissistic purpose of monetary gain?
Naked fidelity shan’t be placed upon a hollow existence
Nor should verses be fibbed
Why can’t religion be real again?
Glenn McCrary, 19 września 2012
My bones take the shape of guitar strings
a genesis froths a sequence of irrevocable refrains
Like eradicated jars along the brink of some nameless beach
It matters not a damn to sulk in sour memories
When all they are adept of doing evolve into forthcoming tribulations
resulting in yearly scars as well as the razing ‘tis lifeless amour
Glenn McCrary, 19 września 2012
Treading along the avenues of iniquity
The downbeat of mollifying choruses alleviate my ears
Ambivalent logic scours my cerebellum
A frown composed of disdain surfaces
Whilst I seek a hero amongst such strange clouds
I covet to taste of the superlative pleasures ‘tis Mother Earth
Though I am left to contemplate when next my happenings
Glenn McCrary, 9 września 2012
Dirt is what she does.
She injects and she ingests and she retreats.
She sears and she is branding the boulevards.
We’ll reap what we never desired.
Glenn McCrary, 7 września 2012
Is the occultist aware she’s daring,
That she carries the shadiest orifice?
No.
She just defecates and scars remain.
Akin to the likes of an unmarketable comedian:
passion on one side, narcissism on the other.
‘Twas unforeseen.
Enemies working together,
Exchanging callous banknotes.
No one had foreseen this.
Eventually, she’ll cripple
from depositing and withdrawing.
But no one knows.
No one can ever know.
Glenn McCrary, 7 września 2012
Rancorous, lethargic, avaricious, psychotic,
Enthusiastic, mystified, serene
Does a planet?
A galaxy?
A multiverse incorporates
Secrecy, security, nine or more parallel universes
Eyes are awake
Glenn McCrary, 7 września 2012
Wake up, her magnetism is perpendicular
Concentrate, renunciation isn’t an option
She coveted her beauty to be paramount
It may not lie adjacent, or acute, closed nor open
Yay, Nay, or,
A night, a century, dissolves from her
Shedding a seventh layer
Shedding the eighth
The understanding of such linear artistry proves to be facile
An acquittal, forthcoming
New art, new liberty
The acquittals continue to waltz
Like multiple grooves shaped by the sand
Into apples and cherries
Glenn McCrary, 5 września 2012
A contortionist achieves climax
Her clitoris saluting her lips
From within an envelope of pleasure
Causing local beatitude
Though one may query such enthusiasm
Her clitoris cooing mollifying concert
Waltzing against the hips of autumn temptation
That she was vibrant
Or that she was barren
Or that in artistry
This plausible microsecond
The happening of dawn quite imminent
And a canary perched upon a fence
Lavish us with falsettos
Each and every organism throughout the universe
Itself just below its conception
And love equalizes the balance
Glenn McCrary, 4 września 2012
Acquiring the libel of critics
Internally at times I bleat
And snarl, brow furrowed
Like an actress when filming a major motion porno
“Originality bid us farewell” screams my advanced intellect
Nothing more than a social outcast who lacks a catalyst
(though thankfully the universe is an object of open ended philosophy)
The voices of such a generation fail to carry notes
Beyond the octave range
Only Canis lupus familiaris feces, in its rejuvenated appearance,
Delivers abstract imagery
What was once honorable has dissolved into media sewage
Virginal darlings now dissolved into marionettes
Shall my poems alienate the public
They shall at least demonstrate bravery
Glenn McCrary, 24 sierpnia 2012
Callous sentences saunter into the quaintest of landmarks
Capturing the cinematography that is the mockery of felicity
At times I ponder on whether its veins quake with fear
In lieu of the eyes marring her with bullet holes
Whilst humming commemorative memories
That now lie lifeless just as the wealth of their youth
Glenn McCrary, 24 sierpnia 2012
The fearful varmint that claws at your callous origin
Caused a ceaseless chain of nightmares
A simple faux pas contrives a generation of idiocy
The toes of a screaming infant dwindling in our wake
Loyalty had not yet bared a face of existence
Atonement was never a question but a riddle
Heed your forthcoming capers
For they just may deface you
Glenn McCrary, 24 sierpnia 2012
Oblivious to arcane mishaps
That molest the bones established by society
The echo of her tattoo sings of a great depression
Each time the memory surfaces,
A twisted grin is born
Perhaps this could be the preluding window to existential purgatory
Glenn McCrary, 19 sierpnia 2012
Establishing the oblivious existence
That were her distant echoes
She seared my skin by way
Of her screaming eyes
And just seconds away
from marrying the anus of death
to spare my life was damn honorable of her
Glenn McCrary, 19 sierpnia 2012
She mirrored the shape of a psychotic hooker
Tattooed by hickeys and bruises
Written upon the pages of her breasts
In lieu of her nightly pearl tuxedo
The teeth protruding from her vagina
Began hissing and spitting at me
The war was far from over…
Glenn McCrary, 19 sierpnia 2012
Raspy, sexified tones began tightening
Like nooses around my throat
A trail of corpses appeared nonexistent
To millions of natural eyes
Catastrophically I was yet another victim
In the pages of murder that she had composed
She must be found…
Glenn McCrary, 19 sierpnia 2012
This tongue broadcasts
hushed tones of satanic nature
And strange snickers
resounded throughout the canyons
Chanting nocturnes as irking
as a rhino horn against a chalkboard
yet the prophecy remained clear
I had to find this beast…
Glenn McCrary, 19 sierpnia 2012
In the billow of mercurial cataclysms
Sharp as the pyrexia of igneous pebble stones
Upon my hindquarters I was cast
The circles that were established
Branded my skin with cancerous nightmares
Crafting the twisted love song fucking my throat
Through the lavender haze I tread
Threatened by a medley of conundrums
The tongue legislating such echoes
‘tis the element I so daringly seek
Glenn McCrary, 31 lipca 2012
For humans who, from the beginning
Were first originated,
Degenerate into sand,
It is known not,
Of their creator’s whereabouts,
And knowing is further refrained,
Though it is not entirely known,
That he exists,
Though few find him,
Worth sparing,
A secondary glance.
Glenn McCrary, 31 lipca 2012
To him all women are hallowed
minus those that hustle themselves.
How instantly and cunningly
they commit truculent acts
yet never bribed by mischief
except by rendezvous.
Glenn McCrary, 31 lipca 2012
Furnished from the beginning with superlative demeanor,
You sway no haughty elbows,
And murder all colours of mockery,
Refrain from staring down the bridge of your nose,
As well as the egocentric adults
That bear the sharpness of a minotaur horn.
Your own sanctuary
Is crafted from knife fissures and bullet nests,
The nightmare of cathedrals;
Though existence must be slain
In order to fashion birth, yet
existence is never slain for applause
Glenn McCrary, 31 lipca 2012
Free from the sins of the America’s bureaucracy,
you were always indifferent
To jealousy,
Yet your poetry
Has fostered poets
To compose legendary verses,
And, though you are distinguished from,
The majority of your contemporaries
The wounds of the broken have been mended.
Glenn McCrary, 31 lipca 2012
It has been stated that on judgment day
We may be given not the shape of diamonds,
But of bones.
Plausible now, more than before
In our last days we shall infuse as one
(To mirror the imagism of each other),
Yet display no parallelism
Could that be why we were
Disgusted by daring faces,
Yet never revolted?
Regulamin | Polityka prywatności
Copyright © 2010 truml.com, korzystanie z serwisu oznacza akceptację regulaminu.
Poezja
Proza
Fotografia
Grafika
Wideo wiersz
Pocztówka
Dziennik
Książki
Handmade
