“What The $#@k!,To young to fast”

Fucked up words

Half ass, backward stories, flooded my youth

Now at age 31 my left ass cheek burns from the salt up on the roof


Lingering stench from when shit hits the fan

O fuck, paying the price for staying up late, when you have adulting things to do the next day

One thing for certain, I wanna make our love last forever

Right hand steady shaking, from the repetitive last year’s of hard work

Shit! and what the fuck

My child hood was fun and fast

I would quickly go back briefly, just to run around the neighborhood, doing are best jackass stunts, building half assed ramps

Listening to blink 182 in the morning on the way to the bus stop in the morning chill

Rocking my black nails and 1 foot mohawk, plaid paints

Staying up until the next morning playing Dave Mirra’s BMX and Metal gear Solid

Years from now, was a hit or miss when I was young

Just thankful to have my boys and my girlfriend

Now I’m standing on a frozen roof


By: Obligatoryinsightpoet


The New Mix

Set forward

Suddenly drifting off 

Depth embrace 

Brief silence

Stirring up a playlist

Specially made to ward off, nightmarish dreams

Your night sounds, coming from a distance 

Soft whispers

Adjusting the sound track

Adding to the queue 

Followed by a increase in bass

Sound quality that keeps me in a dream

Filling in all the round corners of my mind

Glimpse of your face

I see behind the curtain

Body frozen 

A glimpse of all good things to come

By: ObligatoryInsightPoet


Our Own Understanding

Related image

Marks are made – to recluse

Embedded differences – natural to your pleasant liking

Beyond our better understanding….. we can sail as far as we want to go

Press in to unwind

Today… choosing to rest

No need to make our bed

Seeking purpose

Marks are made!

Tomorrow! Never knew we could create a need

Reproduce your negativity into artful thinking

From markings being made

Transform into your target

Might be a X that marks the right spot

From markings being made

A phrase that needs to be interpreted the right way

So long – starring into the bright sun

Unblind your focused gaze

Becoming more true and aware

By: ObligatoryInsightPoet©





Her Entrance, Her Own Show.

Draped canvases

Make the entrance true into your own show

Slow down the tipping of the bow

Optical star illusion, glaze arcoss the room

Winged horse, take it for a ride

To guide you anywhere in such a grand expanse

Your own paraffin, squeezed out from solid oak

Watching the wax flourishing down

Dyeing your favorite colors at the same time

Shaped up to a solid mural

Quickly melting away

A frozen still is taken

Make memories, into the late hours

Reach out, to turn back the hands

Turning the spotlight on you

Now journey

Depth hollow rings

Covered in jewels

Pretty prisims of light

Guide you backstage

Curtains are closing

Take seat at the vanity

Dress your face for the next act

Where ever your mind is leading you to

Prepare to follow, deep thoughts

Put you back to the final act

Now curtsy to your peaceful awakening

Lying on the daybed, cold

Stoking the flames

To keep her warm

Slightly she fades back into her dream

By: ObligatoryInsightPoet©


Broken Layers 

Ambients is felt, beneath the floor

Dust settles, cellar floor

Ageing, soaking up unique flavour

A chill seeps into empty the rooms

Each layer of snow, adds weight until the roof collapse

Fast rush of heat pops a few nail heads up from the floor boards

Structural flaws

Natural weathering

Break through

Crushing aged barrels

Leaking exlixers

Seeping  into the second cellar below

Being poured into empty glasses

Opposing rotation carousel mirror

Shows a grand party happening

Era that was once decadent in its own way

Flash bulb shattering

All the eyes light up in the reflection of the rotating carousel

Soft spoken voices echoing into a empty room

Shadow outlines fade away

By: ObligatoryInsightPoet©


“My Worth”

Picking up the mallet 

There is a shelf full of odd stories

Several golden leaf, written letter titles

Reading the one book with a hidden picture of a drawn mallet on the side pages

Pool of blood covered on a bare floor

Does it equal up to a bruised body?

Does it equal up to a loaded gun, pointed at the forehead?

And she says…

Some men…..”

Before she wacks him on the skull

Breaking soil in the garden to bury that dead weight deep

She twitches

She can’t move

Pail of bleach, soiled mop

Blood dyes the chemical red

Glance over to the shelf

Look for any clues

There is a light that shines overhead

She feels blind

Twicthing again

Sleep paralysis, she has fallen into

Long day of work from a late shift

Sipping coffee

He greats her with a sensual kiss

Hot shower he takes to wash the sweat away

Quick to pack a few things to leave

Message on the fridge reads “I need some time alone”

Grabbing mallet off the rack

Worth enough to her

Walking into a quiet house late

She plays a crying sobb well

True emotions she feels

Quick words from him down the hall

Fake comforting in his words

“I’m going back to bed”

And she says…

“Some men….”

By: ObligatoryInsightPoet©