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Please excuse the comma splices, tense changes, verbosity, etc. I was just a youngin' and now I realize the error of my grammatical ways. Plus, I preferred the flowery and descriptive writing styles of the early 19th century and beyond rather than the short, journalistic post-Hemingway-style of writing. I love intense imagery and descriptions in general. Still deciding whether I should edit my old poetry for grammar mistakes or take the Beatnik approach and fuck it.

Disclaimer: I only wrote/write on bad days. Grand days have never inspired me enough to write as I've always used writing as an outlet. A majority of my poetry is angsty, dark humored, or depressing, however, I don't have depression, and I'm not self-destructive or suicidal by any means. My writing is mostly a tenfold representation of the kind of day I was having at the time. Embellishing the realities of my bad days on paper helped turn them into good days. Not sticking my head into an oven anytime soon (or ever, actually). :P +10 points if you got the reference.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to comment

Saturday, February 21, 2009

House of Cards

Trapped in a room made out of a deck of cards.

Queen of hearts boasts worthless riches,
Queen of Bitches.

King of diamonds questions his title,
Lineage is vital.

Seven of clubs bears good news,
Anticipated muse.

Ace of spades craves attention,
Awaits ascension.

Suit of colors, true to its name, intentionally plastered on the souls of cards that leave the stack.

Luck dealt separately in each hand,
Fortune grand.

Truth in every deal will soon reveal fate that lies ahead.

House collapsing as the song is sung, the word spoken -- free.

Copyright © 2009
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