Tag: poem

Empty

Empty

Empty our definitions of ignorance.

My horoscope paints a wretched fortitude.

The liar in a field of lepers,

The hound of a parliamentary.

I face a faceless evil,

Lathered muck coats the laughable sadist.

What justifies his poisonous stupor?

His porous odor?

A pontiferous codification?

Organic waves a salutation.

The factory pursues her coitus.

Open conversions of the Nihilists,

The betterment forms an empty knowledge.

Personages filter my delicate dreaming.

A fragile transit unordered,

Under cardboard and excrement,

My eyes ferociously scan for fantastical obsolescence.

A functional lawman suffocates in stationary.

Mindful teething of Californian cattle,

Candlelit by distant obelisks.

An empty ocean poses comatose.

A steward stole my reclamation.

Louder I bellowed a restitution for stagnation.

Emptiness occupies my condolences,

Feeling what minds allow us.

Venerable is our Creator,

But whom do I revere?

Losing is a tariff on our innocence.

Winning is a tariff on our innocence.

Living is a tariff on our innocence.

Empty are definitions of our innocence.

Empty is our definition.

— Kevin J. Flors

 

Thanks for reading

Photograph from Pexels

part two

part two

Guessing my seconds

failing to forget

the years I’ve wasted

the times spent crying.

A ledge staring at me

no more waiting

no more wailing

a loudness in the silence.

Show more feeling

for the sorrows

my depressing

spirit gouges.

Hallow sprites

carefully caress

the son you gave me…                                 what I gave my son.

I’d caressed, cared fully

but spry was the hollow

gouging his spirit.

His deep resting.

My sorrows for

feelings you’d shown

but silent was your loud

he wails no more

waits no more

a pledge to my star.

Crying spent my time

wasted my years

my forgotten failures

my second guessing.

–Kevin J Flors

Thanks for reading.

Photograph from Pexels

Abandonment and Dejection

Abandonment and Dejection

Abandonment and dejection,

A boy’s name,

Desired more times than death,

More times in death.

 

Fermented in a bar,

With enthusiastic gullet.

How great grapes so hallow,

Transform one so hollow.

 

Little passion ever seen,

Showed its face in torrents,

Bony, but bellowing,

Desperately hanging.

 

Man was no medicine,

Nor was a muffled moonlight,

Nor a yearned sensuality,

Nor the coveted wine.

 

Sailors bunched around a bonfire,

Salt kindles a foul smell,

Engineered hands built to slave,

Built to hold.

 

The joined act of lasting,

Of loving,

Of losing,

Of still holding.

 

–Kevin J Flors

Thanks for reading.

Photograph from Pexels

Red Pins

Red Pins

Hailing reigns sharpen his mind.

Amusing deconstructions of the Word.

The clandestinity of the cumulus.

What paltry its nimbus resembles?

 

What mindfulness we don’t own?

Smallest egos amongst the sheep of the conceited.

Excommunication of the heretics,

A banishment praising our synthetic lords.

 

Shallow are the shores of our capacity.

Our mind formed by the Baker.

Needed are our wants.

A wanted silence envelops the kneading.

 

A candid kingship, mercy does not know.

Salivated hunger pains the belly’s flame.

Lustful journey’s romance with torture,

Never ceases in congregation.

 

To question the capacity of power.

The seeming unattainability of it.

The obstacles we burn to breathe it.

What futility it bears?

 

–Kevin J Flors

Thanks for reading.

Photograph from Pexels

 

Futility

Futility

Birthing mandates depression,

Sinful monsters directing films,

For our eyes cannot be stopped.

 

Looking for answers,

Lost in lust and greed and family,

Responsibility never slumbers.

 

The name of our desire is Waning,

We will all die before he,

He will tease us into believing.

 

They only speak in exploitation,

Don’t bother learning it,

You were born to never understand.

 

Minds play a king of deception,

Besides the two my mother gave me,

I’ve lost all my hands.

 

Personifications of sound.

What really is a voice,

Without a gilded crown?

 

A wise man once said,

He was the leader.

Following defines our nature.

 

Comatose defines our coitus.

 

Complacency defines our torture.

 

— Kevin J. Flors

 

Thanks for reading.

Photograph from Pexels

Alienation’s Bellow Cries Death

Alienation’s Bellow Cries Death

Alarming bells’ counting daze,

Entrancing followers’ gilded hearts.

Illusionary jungles kill lions.

Monarchical nihilism overshadows persistence.

Quickly reins shake tyranny,

Undress vixens worriedly.

Xerxes’s yielding zeal.

 

A broken clock doesn’t

Entertain fathers. Grieving homes.

Intrusive jingles. Knives lunging.

My neck opens purple,

Quivering. Restlessly stoic tumult.

Unheard vehemence withers.

Xenolith’s youth zombified.

–Kevin J. Flors

 

Thanks for reading.

Photo from Pexels.

 

 

 

Inevitable Lateness

Inevitable Lateness

 

I now understand,

 

My mother’s indigestion of stress,

Spat out in undesirable forms,

A bullet aimed at our apathy,

Its journey never short.

 

The dependence of alcohol,

An escape from skeletons,

Walking skeletons,

Or what feigns natural.

 

My father’s infidelity,

Disintegrating pathways.

The artistry to combine,

The chemical with the physical.

 

Smokers,

Burning their lungs and nerves,

Curing combustible flames,

When water fails to salve.

 

My mother’s anger,

Her sadness,

Nervousness,

Loneliness.

 

Depression.

Late shipments of reminiscence,

Of overbearing failures,

Of regrets.

 

I now understand,

 

All the forgotten dreams,

Floating in stagnant wells,

Incapable of rippling,

Pressured by an unbending mold.

–Kevin J Flors

 

 

Thanks for reading.

Photograph from Pexels.

Thaw

Thaw

Falsettos of the falsely fallen,

Fantasize a frozen form,

Forever feeling from fountains,

Freed from forming foreclosure.

 

Fortitude’s folly fends fear,

Far from followed fences.

Fiercely firing fists of fire,

For foolish fascinations of forever.

 

Filtration funded by fingers,

But filth finds foundation,

Formations of fortune,

Forever framing their forefathers.

 

Fancy fowls of forever,

Forget forming failing flowers,

A fellowship of the finite,

Who find fountains in feelings.

–Kevin J Flors

Thanks for reading.

Photo from Pexels

Reminisce (Recalesce)

Reminisce (Recalesce)

The endangerment of silence,

Memories of happier times,

Of ecstasies of flying,

Realizations of falling.

 

Decanting cans of bitter juice,

Offerings of companionship,

And trustful barters,

Soiled by the greedy weasel.

 

Flecks of light,

All forming an image,

A happy cat and his pals,

A scary man and his guns.

 

Explosions of color,

Drawings of flat suns,

And grasses oh so green,

And lost ones, forever unseen.

 

The endangerment of silence,

Cries of jubilance,

Sorrow.

 

Panic.

 

 

 

Silence.

 

–Kevin J Flors

Thanks for reading.

Photo from Pexels (With minor edits).

King Dumb

King Dumb

stagnation

one nation

one revolutionary

named revolution

surname

Sir Washington

washing tin

trimming

thinning

thinking

fat king

kingdom come

King Dumb

big thumb

big gun

no one

help one

help many

many

many watch

many clap

many laugh

many die

men die

die men

diamond

blood diamond

bloodshed

shed fruit

fruit bear

bear arms

armies

police

police arms

police harms

arms raised

tempers raised

legs dropped

drop minds

mind issues

issue complaints

complaint conquers

conjurers

conjure questions

question logic

logic trumped

Donald Trump

trump card

carted off

off with their heads

heads hung

hanging

lynching

longing

long hair

heritage

its age

great sage

great disparage

Great Depression

depression

suppression

stagnation

one nation

one revolutionary

named revolution.

–Kevin J Flors