Guild of Forelorn Souls
Current mood: anxious
Category: Writing and Poetry

"Guild of Forlorn Souls"

I'm shuffling through pictures

Of people I no longer know

In the stillness of this silent room

White walls with secrets burrowed

Within, I'm exanimate, missing

Their acquaintance, my former muses

But ecstatic they're no longer here

I'm in another plane in this city

Of amoral aspiration, a metropolis

Of distillate personas, I'm yearning

For the comfort of my friends on this

City block, the graffiti hugs me in solace

I see a guild of forlorn souls, squatting

For a little rain, to awash the darkness

Cleanse them of the grime

Of homelessness, I pour the

Rest of my water on them

It buys them a little food

Partial joy for the particles

Of New York, one day my misfortune

Will part my admittance to this

Guild of forlorn souls gathered

In Central Park West, my new home

 Words ©2008 Mike Schonewolf

Currently listening : Into the Valley of the Death By Death by Stereo Release date: 2003-04-22

11:09 AM - 7 Comments - 14 Kudos - Add Comment

Contentment Is A Curvaceous Woman
Current mood: depressed
Category: Writing and Poetry

"Contentment Is a Curvaceous Woman"

Contentment is a curvaceous woman
Hard to obtain, a pain to sustain,
When it leaves leaving you in distain
Leaving me a suicidal man

I wake up with the crows scratching
My eyes, my skin bloody, my spirit
Covered in the contusions of disillusionment
The cold stares of happy people are getting to me

Couples are everywhere like the plague
In early Europe, I'm sickened by the air
Of his cologne and her perfume, I'm
Sallow by their noxious love fumes

I feel like falling to my grave
Every time another jackass raves
About his licentious liaisons,
I feel a black horizon calling my name 

Contentment is a curvaceous woman, rendering
You; vying for its warm comfort, disposed
To engender an illusion of being loved when-
Really you see corpses floating flawlessly in rainbows

©2008 Mike Schonewolf

Currently listening : In Rainbows By Radiohead Release date: 2008-01-01

6:19 AM - 9 Comments - 15 Kudos - Add Comment

Rose Petals In November
Current mood: strong
Category: Writing and Poetry

"Rose Petals In November"

We first began in Central Park South
You with you satin summery dress
I was reading Proust, doused in
My own sweat from the humid sun

We had a strong connection
You were writing, waiting
For me to speak, I did
My words were vivid memories

Created in the bedroom, naked
On my king-sized bed, I hope
You liked my award-winning performance
I thought you were enchanted by my
Abject poverty, I was wrong

I stayed in my rut;
You elevated to Soho social
Circles, enclaves of luxury
Our bond dissolved like
Rose petals in November

Cold, blackened, and dead
I hope you're happy with
Your milieu of millionaires
My last gift to you,
Is a coffin of counterfeit bills

Words ©2008 Mike Schonewolf

Currently reading : The Sandman Vol. 4: Season of Mists By Neil Gaiman Release date: 1994-01-04

7:24 AM - 7 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

Let It End
Current mood: melancholy

"Let It End"

Whenever the binds of life drag

You down, let the suffering end

Ascend to an enlightened plane

Don't allow the ruffians to ruin

Your quality of life, because

They'll be the first to die like a fad

That never should've been engendered

Don't get so encumbered in their mess

In hostile environs, don't partake

In the tempest, become the sunlight

That illuminates cold concrete,

Adding definition to something that died

Purge the contempt out like

A bulimic after binging on a warm meal

See how it feels my dear?

To give grievance a kick in the rear

So when you can no longer express

That you completely depressed,

When you head towards that precipice

Let all that plagues you end

You'll feel like a sapient being again

©2008 Mike Schonewolf

Currently reading : For Whom the Bell Tolls By Ernest Hemingway

12:41 PM - 6 Comments - 14 Kudos - Add Comment

Dimes On The Subway
Current mood: focused
Category: Writing and Poetry

"Dimes on the Subway"

It was a cold Tuesday morning
I'm a failed writer sleeping
On a lurid bench in a subway
The bats are calling my name

I'm trying with no avail
To ignore their cries for membership
Vis-à-vis transmutation, the cries
Abate because of trifling chatter

From busy commuters rushing
Like a cluster of incremental avalanches
To their menial jobs for dimes on the subway
I sit and observe quietly their meaningless punctuality

I hear distant strumming from
My friend, the starving guitarist
He's playing melodic poaching
Yearning for dimes on the subway

I have no desire to squat
Nor to plead for change in;
A stagnant economy with no
Hope of inoculation, no vivid
Signs of elation, so I just eye

The metropolitan vicious viscounts
Who overlook the light vagabonds
Scouring with the rats for dimes
On the subway of desolation

Currently reading : My Noiseless Entourage: Poems By Charles Simic

7:02 AM - 7 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

Incremental Dusk
Current mood: amused
Category: Writing and Poetry

"Incremental Dusk"

You were Lucia Aliberti wrapped

Around your aria like a crimson quilt

Your voice, acclimating around the

Desolate conservatory, empty violins

Gather to symbolize those who passed

They all became wolves in tiny increments

One after the other in a nocturnal symbiosis

I was stunned at your soprano elegy

We were cancer patients in our caskets

Revived with your melodious song

Rescued from the throngs of death

We become armed animals with muskets

At night fall, oh siren of mine

We followed your voice to the woods

The incremental platoon of the lunar army

You're the bait with a seductive swan song 

Words ©2008 Mike Schonewolf

Currently reading : Tropic of Cancer By Henry Miller

3:01 PM - 7 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

Pear-Shaped Lioness
Current mood: amorous
Category: Writing and Poetry

"Pear-Shaped Lioness"

I saw you sitting in Battery Park

My muse the lioness of the West Village

I felt compelled to talk you;

It must have been the beer

Collectively coarsening through my veins

Your pear-shaped seduction enticed me

To greet you, to acclimate to your every desire

I was your Mark Antony, you were my Cleopatra

We talked for hours, but it seemed liked a lifetime

The cosmos were arranging us to collide

For once, I felt happy inside, like a mirthful

Child gaining his innocence back

After his parents were shot on a city block

We chatted about literature, art, the yuppie

Capitulation of the Bowery, your eyes wide

With the metropolitan glee only two lovers share

You had to depart from my grasp

Oh, curvaceous lioness, with your buxomness

When you held me for the first time,

Osiris winked at me from the sky

It was a night I'll never forget

I hope I'll be seeing your emerald eyes again…..  

Words © 2008 Mike Schonewolf

7:59 PM - 6 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

Hostel Hellhole
Current mood: adventurous
Category: Writing and Poetry

"Hostel Hellhole"

Gestating cockroaches the size

Of grapefruits are lingering for

Morsels of rotting Swiss cheese

Imported from a French harlot's cleavage

I'm gazing at the perforated horizons

On the walls, I see makeshift galaxies

It must have been the Bourbon-cocaine

Combo I just ingested and inhaled

The walls are raining sheetrock

I hear the bed upstairs throbbing

The hookers are ululating ineffable

Syllables of orgasmic boredom, business

Must be booming, the drunks are looming

Searching for Aphrodite's body parts

They'll never find them, for they

Are sprawling in these holy hedonistic walls

So, they're left with drunken naiveté in the halls

Will I ever escape this de facto haven

For the dispossessed, the snow will

Cleanse me of mire on my back like a boulder

The winter will liberate me from this hostel hellhole  

Words ©2008 Mike Schonewolf

Currently reading : Black Hole By Charles Burns Release date: 2008-01-08

6:48 PM - 8 Comments - 14 Kudos - Add Comment

Shantytown Anthill
Current mood: jubilant
Category: Writing and Poetry

This is a poem that I wanted to post, but couldn't becuase the Jobcorps computers have a proxy filter that blocks myspace. So I posted this on the bulietin boards.

"Shantytown Anthill"

A commune of ants seperated from
It's pack of errors, defiant
Hostile like communists "reeducated"
Blackend dirt covers their odiousness

The anthill conceals drug paraphernalia
Gangster jackals and narcotics queens
Rest their drugged antennae upon the surface
A routine told in Henry Miller tales of woe


Don't be seduced by the whims
Of altered perception, these ants
Will end up choking on their on
Manufactured product, goods for the desolate


Sucidal candy contaminating this once
Peaceful hole in the earth,
Now abated mired in dirth
A society devalued from it's worth

Please escape while you can
Before the ants fall in the pesticidal fan

Words ©2008 Mike Schonewolf

1:12 PM - 4 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

I No Longer Have A Palette
Current mood: awake
Category: Life

If you're wondering why I've been absent for the past month it's becuase I no longer have my laptop. The Friday before Easter; my apartment was broken into. While I was in the shower, someone inflitrated my apartment stole my most valuable poessessions including my laptop, wallet, cell phone, CD player, bookbag with my birth certificate and other indentification items including my diploma, and my brother's Xbox 360 games. I was furious and ran out and saw the bastard with my bookbag. When I called him out he ran behind some apartments and by the time I caught up with him; he vanished.

The Monroe Township police are lavishly paid and inept becuase when I called them the told me that I should've called while was in the shower. What the fuck am I? Batman?! Do I look like the person who has immedate access to a phone in the shower. The goons gave me a stolen claims report to fill out and as if today I still didn't get any retribution or justice for what happened. I did get this kind yet macho kid to orgainize a search party with no result.

With jobcorps I have to get another physical examination because the doctor I saw six years ago misdiagnosed me with asthma. But, I need to replace the ID's that were stolen from me in order to recieve the exam.. My father (I hope) is going to take care of the birth certifcate, I'm getting the state ID card tommorrow. I just need the money, and I loathe asking people for money. Unfourtunately, I need to becuase this a ife changing event for me. $20 is the bridge between solace and abject poverty. I had to sell my CD's including my Orphans album which was a critically acclaimed album; to get some of the money. If everything goes as I planned; I'll be in New York by the second week of May.

I feel powerless without my palette. I have so many ideas, yet I can't express any of them becuase my laptop's gone. For those of you who suggest that I write longhand, that's a bad idea becuase none of you will understand my handwriting. When I find the bastard who robbed me; I assure you, I will kick his ass! Hopefully within the next nine months, I'll have replaced everything and will be back to writing on a regluar basis. Untill then I'll be keeping all of you in my thoughts.

8:45 AM - 17 Comments - 27 Kudos - Add Comment