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6 Poems by Clifford K. Watkins, Jr.

Lab Rat

surrounded by a tunnel of hands
how much sorrow can you stand
who'll remember me
a sample in a tube of infinity
maybe we're god's plan
the lab rat is man
watch him rise
beneath a collage of eyes
we're all paranoid
time flies and devours space
are we a void
stray shavings of the erased
remnants of a lost race
the products of our own buffoonery
is there a better place
who knows
am I rambling
of course it shows
the devil made me do it
I'm descending below
we're the dregs
a mouth full of excrement
heathens vomiting into a revival tent
we can dry up and blow away in the wind
some won't even be memories in the end

Morning's Waking

at morning's waking
sidewalks moved toward the sky
another prophecy in the making
restless limbs wouldn't sleep or die
the nightmare soared
each vision had a profit professing savior
and a world for the taking

Hollow-Sun Reflections

follow me into a forest of deception to escape direction
and we can make tears for eternity that descend to muddle reflections
nothing is near except the swaying trees stretching the truth
inside we foster a cavern of lies in absence of proof
bloodshot and weather beaten we return
in effigy we burn
simmering beneath our great god of fire
throwing ourselves onto a funeral pyre
souls hurled like rice
the brainwashed line the horizon to be sacrificed
a decapitated head for each steeple
the cloth is doubly divine
but still human
and no less evil
open doors to confront faceless people
such meager creatures
so tired and feeble
If it's nothing more than a promise of bliss
we could do better to slash our wrists
violent echoes of scream
we linger inside our fiery-electric dreams
embracing shrunken morrow faces
unlocked doors
and dark places
we desire
and need
happy hearts flutter as insanity feeds

Blue-Eyed Jesus

recreating ourselves along the way
discarding recollections
souls strewed in disarray
any reason not to cast this life away
what's more trivial than today
only tomorrow
or maybe a realm in absence of sorrow
minds bedazzled
ideas swirl crimson-hued
another blue-eyed jesus to the rescue
the products of our own buffoonery
we've got no clue
in the lean hour
shadows recede as skies darken
memories empty into scatter gardens
unable to feel of flesh
unable to come
to exist forevermore in absence of the sun
a mansion in the sky
no reason to unravel
no more wondering why
no more drugs to keep me high
I'd probably just sit around and sigh
when you contemplate the ideal
this life's not so bad
and much more real
it's okay to be a little mad
encompassed in brains
we're electric energy surging insane
walking a tightrope between pleasure and pain
the ordinary and deranged
one in the same

Faces In A Puddle

are we faces in a puddle distorted by gentle rain
what becomes of knowledge encompassed in brains
gathered for a lifetime
If only we could harness minds
unravel and rewind
maybe we hold the keys to the universe
to live afraid and unblind
ever walked in an unconscious mind
there's nothing to find
no bliss
only an underlying chasm of madness
we're all evil
and insane
little marbles rolling in an open-fire brain
angels assemble above the smothered and strangled
descending from awkward angles
birds swarm above
the tree is swaying
feathers fall on those who are praying
mocking scriptures
and cursing the skies
we can't surrender to a jar of flies

Heaven Is Scenery

god is a word
heaven is scenery
life is a blur between lapses of memory
beautiful moments
and monumental misery
I can't remember me
I venture listlessly
no one really listens
souls are christened
reproduction is the mission
to further our genes
and expand our vision
an invitation to invention
holding your breath
the instant before ejaculation
a second before death
it's never quite real
I can't escape the surreal
muscles contract
and blood spills
only wanting to feel


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