Terra Nova

terra nova

Can’t help feel like I’m endlessly expanding, still

These poor eyes don’t comprehend the beauty presented.

Yet we’re expected to understand the unique matter

Within one another.


Washed away pools of blood coated our streets

Specks of dried skin swept off our floors

Every new horizon met with anticipatory glory is

Constantly met by childish laughter


The cosmos are our playground,

Yet we lay in the sandbox

Of our minds,

Of our childhoods.


The arms of the man

No different than those of the clock

Stationary, while semaphores

Signal meaningless motions


Move forward, charging head first

The feet are as flat as they are mobile

Heels will slam against the wet Earth

And hands will get clammy.


Fear not, there’s no need to

My hands are empty, feet blistered

And I am fufilled and filled

With purpose and the land’s anguish.

These Hands

I lie here,
Staring at my hands.
Thinking of all the
Destruction they’ve caused,
All the mouths
They have silenced.

These palms carry
No blood
These knuckles
Stay rough.
And I feel like
The devil is smiling

Idle hands are the
Devil’s workshop right?
Well these hands cannot
Remain static.
Senile and paper-like
These hands will lay waste

And hopefully learn to love
In the following decades.
Maybe they’re not here to hold,
But here to chip away
So waste away your nine lives
I’ll be here with these ten fingers.