(2015)
This is a univocal lipogram poem, where only one vowel is used throughout the poem
#Lipogram #Wind
There is no other, no mother, no father, Only you and me Between the shade, of the house we made,
In the distance, slight tapping of… Festival creating renewed life, wa… the origin of the location unknown… Then upbeat rhythm kicks in, Announcing a different style of ce…
Her gaze is slightly off-center as she stares at an unknown landscape. Only I can wonder. Long black hair
The humming of the electrical wire… gently existing outside my window as the birds lay alongside there, napping
Madness ensued in dark corners and wretched taver… where I insulted myself, and I go… by a tribal aggression; must retal… and avenge for society’s sake.
I swear if I have to read one more poem of someone cutting themselves I’m going to cut myself. Really deep.
Inside the gas station’s public restroom was an interesting looking old coo… that caught me off guard. He was wearing a heart-shaped eye…
The feeling came again. Love or Lust? Neither I hope, I hate writing of love. It invokes a powerlessness
I was Marcus Arelius in love. Eh rm, except with a woman. I was an excited spark in flight, Ah hmm, albeit alone. My want is mine own, young und old…
I view death as my friend. Sitting on my bed, playing a guitar for a weeping woman who has just lost a child. I view life as a mustard seed.
Creating, condemning, piercing my skin with a rough sketch, tattoo ink and a clueless reminder found within every pore.
At first, I was the reveling masq… In a dozen wanton nights, with a lack of fright for social a… I sought to receive. I sought to breath
We shoot for superiority. The best of the idea, the winning match and set game for the domination. I, with masculine energy,
If there was anything that mattere… I would hold hope that the very thing would be me. Profitably me.
There’s a little bit of blood on my breathe. My blood, breathing, within vitality