Dead and Gone

Not confined

by fine lines,

or small minds.

A precious few

can share into

this solitude.

Keep the company

of demons, ghosts and angels.

From dreams to death,

I tempt inherent danger.

Up and down – I still stick around.

Dead or driven – fool or clown.


Emaciated in this living coffin,

life lived in a grave and don’t leave too often.

‘Cause in this world

so few can see past themselves.

Rape and slaughter

those who apply compassion,

so new parasites and tenants of Hell

devour us with any kind reaction.


We are all part of the problem,

why I’ve dropped out of contention.

If the order is everyone for no one,

don’t subscribe to their bullshit obsession.


Expression grown

of life alone.

A hole called “Home”.

A pretty girl,

a fucked up world.

Dead fetal curl.


So many live and die for so little,

so I cut them off

and cauterize.

Their politics of wealth and Bible;

turn my back

to survive.


Won’t be a part

of the mass murder of the individual;

they call that progress.

Stop my pulse to distance further,

myself from this futile success.

Don’t mean shit,

when as a race,

humanity has little place.

Won’t raise a finger

to help, or hinder;

Beneath the earth,

I find my place.


HG – 2000-2005

5 thoughts on “Dead and Gone

      1. 🙂

        Yes, but it’s so much nicer when understanding is included with love.

        I understand that you’re posting pieces from your archives. How often do you write now?

      2. When the mood strikes me, as far as poetey goes. I am working on some short stories and novel ideas on a semi-regular basis now with plans to move to a regular writing schedule this year.

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