Raves of the night, blessed be the rotten blight of death might that the world may feel the deadly love of two who once trampled the grass of earth. Why must we experience true love in our rotted coffins? Your hands caress my skeletal fingers, my hands massage your forever smiling skull. Lustfully I watch… Continue reading Death Taketh
Why do you sit there? Sitting there in the London fog air. Time for you has become a rotten tag as it drags on, like a child dragging behind him a tattered rug you neglect. Your gravestone face of wonder, your delusional views of what was and what is yet to come. By Isaac Gathings
All night drinks, To wispy hands of ghosts tugging on these cufflinks, It is what I call, the drunk man’s high jinks. Whilst the world that embraces this soul, The soul for which the liquid courage that once coursed through me made sure I achieved the goal. A last breath? Silently sulking away, Like a… Continue reading Death Perpetual
Memories can keep a man bogged down, like the corners of a cheeky frown. Like wisps in the rain of a night storm, I feel the haunting touch of your arm, is the kiss to warn? Or were you attempting to keep me warm? The suppression of these oppression memories haunts, the taunts of a… Continue reading The Suppression of Oppression
The clock clicks to 5 PM I’ve completed another swim I see you walking through The door of our home Your scent assures me I’m no longer alone As we kiss at 5 PM By Isaac Gathings
Trump, you condone division, The KKK March to your voice “Blood and soil,” they say We, the resistance March to the voice of freedom Rifles blast from a Vegas window Puerto Rico is ravaged by a hurricane Trump hands out paper towel in response Trump is silent on Vegas One people march to love and… Continue reading The Resistance
Just a portion of the first page in the first chapter of my current manuscript. Maybe I should change it around? I don’t know. I’m willing to see some thoughts on this.