haiku: 36 (unconventional haiku 1)

like a junkie

all my energy leaves me

3 hours after I wake.

Soaked dreams

The thoughts which lingered within my subconscious,
Stayed a blur to be honest…
Damp from its own intensity.
What more could I do? My imagination was dipped into my cup,
Swallowed the images, words, smells, and sounds into my digestive track.
Stomaching them was far from an easy task. Liquor to ease the inflammation of the abdominal region.
Smooth sailing for this salty sea-dog.

Guest Check Poetry: 233679

His face grew cold, his bones were old.

His story was timeless, it deserved to be told.

Sit with him, pray to God – “Wait.

Let him gather his memories, from each a lesson can be made.”

Say “Goodbye” – for a first, for a last,

Try and blame time, who took a hero too fast.

Laying outside, in the light of the moon.

I still see him in starts that explode too soon.

The Shadow

You walk alongside me day in and day out

Stout and tall like I am

Both knowing and being the darkest part of me

What would you say to me?

Would you judge me for my every action?

Tell me things I am afraid to speak of?

You would be the median to my arrogance or cowardliness at the time

The Yang to my Yin

If only you were able to speak…

The knowledge you probably possess is profound

You have great abilities, such as projecting yourself in more than one direction

Being able to stretch varying distances

Yet you only exist if I do, so I feel like a hindrance

We share the same life but you are the better half in my opinion

Maybe I envy your peaceful existence, and you deserve mine so you can live out life

At times I feel like the shadow of myself, while you were meant to be…the part of me which strong and true.

Random haiku

Dull nights bother me
Gazing at bright lights
Home is not the same

Half – Awake

Dwindling thumbs, my brain tingling from rum, I must be dumb
To not know how to present myself
Alas, there I sat on my top shelf
Staring down as I felt – the hands of another running on my leg. The touch shared a vibrant warm, misleading with intentions unknown. Sweet lips, tasty like a ice cream cone. An embrace equal to the oblivious nirvana Budda placed emphasis on. What do I take from this? I don’t know if it’s permanent but I will enjoy this endeavor until the last bell tolls….. DING!

The Jango within my mind

Why is it that I don’t love you anymore? How do you upset me so?
I feel that even though we are polarized opposites that should attract, I feel repelled like we are similar electric charges.
Those days when it rained and you held me for warmth don’t feel the same, now I feel stuck in a rut.
Unknown to my own feelings at the moment.
It’s hard for me to understand myself at this point, it’s as if my world is tipping over into oblivion even things seem to shine bright momentarily.
I’ve become intrigued with others that are not you, who are vibrant and eccentric. Through your changes and distrust in me, I feel cornered now. You and I don’t sync as we use to, for now you are in the defensive with any and everything. I knew we wouldn’t be the same after you lost your trust in me, yet you still decided to prolong this and it has only caused you more suffering, knowing this information, I feel I am not the right person for you. As your lover and best friend, this has become the only conclusion I have at the moment and I don’t know what to do. I want you to completely let go and forgive me…alas I know it won’t happen even though you have made those claims before. We try to bandage out wounds, yet we forgot to sterilize them before concealing them, now they have created a disease that seems untreatable at the moment…what are we to do from here?

THE COMPASS by OWEN VALACHI

THE COMPASS

written by the factious man Owen Valachi. A word stealer and a liar crafting a dark tantalizing fairytale of love, life, loss. The words stolen detail the relationship of the beautifully flawed Leland and June as they reunite after a traumatic event they endured. Each have there own way of dealing with what has happened but can live with how each path the other has taken?

Check it out on:

Amazon.com

Amazon Kindle Store

Every Great Man Dies With a Gut

Everything in life

moves fast. I watched the sun split

the moon, again. and

There’s too many stars

tonight, to pick one for us.

There’s too many stars, faded and used,

to pin one to my

wall and find peace in her hue,

finding my way home to it,

thinking it might work.

You can stay awhile,

waste time and slow down, again,

light a cigarette.

Light a smoke for me,

and give me time to think.

I really don’t think

that I wholly understand

just where I should go from here.

I read Bukowski…

I read bukowski when I mingle with the smokers

It’s only fitting to 

me.

Read his poetry 

Thinking thoughts I shouldn’t 

Not at work

But the smokers understand

Puffing away their lives

Relaxing in the painful erotic

of each inhale

I inhale

Think

Upon

My last drink

And the degenerate face of love

The sex the sweat the fluids 

And I feel my cock begin

To get hard

“Do you understand Bokowski’s words,” I ask the smokers

They look at me funny

And I get funny responses

“Who?”

“Is he someone here?”

“He’s a philosophy guy! Just like Plato.”

I laugh

Loud and hard

Because they think I’m ignorant

Because I don’t know how to collect

A bill

I laugh

Long and hard 

Because I never wanted to collect bills

I always wanted to live

Poor 

With tales of women

And stupidity

And drink

More and more and more drink

I understand Bukowski

His words his icon his wisdom

Fuck the smokers

And their slow

Deaths