Poetry: The Norm In Abnormal.


The walls keep cracking
All the way to the floor.
There’s something we are lacking
That can’t be found in a store.
Those pages our minds are deleting
We can never restore.
And we dive in, competing
But we never make it to shore.
We tweet to be a part,
Gram to filter art
And at night we are back to where we start.
We all pose to take a shot
We unclothe to earn a spot
Now the cooks are too many for the brought.
I’m still searching for the sermon
That was given on the mount
Today’s verses appear like vermin
Something has poisoned this account.
No sense in psychology
Poor emotional cure
Vain worship of anatomy
Anything less is war.
The mind is exposed
Her entrance is closed
Literacy teaches and shows
To take off criticism along with our clothes.
The answer is yes
To a question we don’t know
But the answer is no
To wearing a dress.
Demons and gods
Totems and rods
Complex becoming simple even in odds.


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One comment

  • 2'WYTH

    January 15, 2018 at 2:00 pm

    Nice narrative…. Selective words


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