Too Late

Echoes in an Hourglass

dry rosemary and regret
a shrine to what we swore
    
             memories a sieve
    echoes in an hourglass
    
    we bury what we are
    
    then dig up ghosts
    and call them holy
    

the beast stumbles
over its own shadow

                        cracked
     burdened by a truth
     no knife can flay
      

dining at bountiful tables

exquisite place settings                                &#...

The scent of Wreaths

The scent of wreaths
      permeate the air
    
    a funeral
    for truths never buried

                                 petals ~
           crisp like parchment
    
            w h i s p e r i n g   .  .

                what is mourned
                is not yet gone

        carve the ears of asses
         &...

Barks Bite

All the roses
have turned grey

             the dandelions
    have withered away

             g r e e n e r . .
    
      is not the grass
      on the other side

      weeds grow
      in the cracks of walls
                     like dissent
      
      
        t u m b l e w e e d

        roam the streets
        where joy once danced
   

        ...

Not a Slave

How am I a slave ~

if my mind is free
          unshackled
           unchained

                           n o r m a l  .  .

               is an extremist's
                     point of view

      a different kind of poetry
        an alternate philosophy

       premised                                   ...

Reality

I'm convinced that reality
is nothing more than

            a n   i n c i d e n t

        of multidimensional
                        extremes

© mingoáo

We Gonna Burn

Pushing
the limits of depravity

                  every sound
amplified by it's silence

        Hunted
        by the hounds of Hades
                                      I ran

             farther into darkness
                        I hide in times
                        long forgotten

Some days bad
others much worse

       ...

The All

all exist
before the universe
               was made

                    gas and dust
           and myriad grades
           of shade

        
          quantum things
          of branes and strings
            and odd imaginings

          long before serpents dwell
                       in the land of Eden
  ...

136.1 Hz

limited
yet infinite
    
    not empty but endless
    
                           the frame
                 within the frame
                 within the frame
              
         dimensions in time
              
                       space expanding
                          &...

Flying

I wish I can fly

        
        I think I can fly

                  I can fly
                

      I ' m   F l y i n g  .  .  !

© mingoáo

Fool me Once

Fool me Once – Fool me Twice

        No Prison Reform
        Affordable Housing
                     Healthcare

        the guillotine
        always finds our necks

I’m Sitting This One Out

        N o  V o t e  .  .  !

        F u c k  Da Democrats
          Had Enough of Y’alls
                                 S H I T

Fool me Once – Fool me Twice