Biography of kendall thomas
Many divert themselves with philosophies and religions to soften the stark reality of existence, but, I think, a walk through any large cemetery will impress upon the intellect the futility of life, despite the stone longings for immortality. In the end, we are only the sum of our memories, and memory is always about something that no longer exist.
kendall thomas Poems
Ballad of Bonnie and Clyde
Bonnie and Clyde went out for a ride with the Devil for a guide.
An American Prayer
I’m gonna kill, rape and plunder cause I do what I’m told to do. My government would never lie, so I do what I’m told to do.
Bukowski's Black Cat
I woke up this morning to a glimpse of delicate blue sky through gray cover. Wonderful!
The Bullet Train
We cannot stop the bullet train. It speeds along on tracks ordained. Through fire of day and fog of night
Rivers wind unnoticed through the brown hills and budding trees, where dark, little birds
All Things Beautiful
all things beautiful must someday die said the wind with a sigh
Birds Scream in Attics
I walk down marble halls that echo nothing genuine Birds scream in attics Women blacken their eyelids
Once upon a time A stone was flung across a universe By a mindless hand
Requiem for a Porn Star
While you have been dead these many years, I have heard pagan calls desiring me to lift your pale body from the sea,
A butterfly was trapped on the inside of my window. It flittered about not finding anyway out.
We entered through the narrow fjord, emerald-sloped and glittering with a silvery gleam where once sailed Viking hordes,
Sculpted in death, models on display, this mute cast shows how it was to die. The terror they knew is engraved on their faces, their prayers canceled in a pyroclastic flow.
being born is magic dying
Soft the music of the lute played by a tongue less wonder. A lament heard from afar strummed on spider webs for our brief descent. The ageless trees seem posed to catch the returning footfalls of some vanished love. Yet, like
she spent her life kneading dough
but her heart billowed like a sail as
her eyes followed the gilt-framed eagle
over the windy crest
her stew was praised by all
her blueberry muffins
when she died
they put on her stone