Monthly Archives: August 2015

You’re Back

You’re back for hidden answers here
Stop listening to those unclear seers
Stinking thinking can only steer fears
Poets write for themselves not your tears

There’s no encryption written in here
Talking to you within is the seers
The encryption lies within your fears
Poets aren’t your harbor stop your tears

© 2015 Michael Yost 08/27

Blue Marble

Hurling through space we see the blue marble
Their scans disrupts our weapon’s array
Our radio gear now nothing but garble
Forced to bow down only to obey

It didn’t matter that we were human
A.I. integrating our future
Ten year trip tests NASA acumen
Waiting dissolving the sutures

© 2015 Michael Yost 08/25

Playing Games

From the pit of my bowels I boil
Every breathe I take fuels the flame
Working hard to find my path through moil
With so many out there playing games

Your generosity only maims
Causing permanent pain with lame legs
Only some insiders took the blame
No matter what they plead or beg

The weird world waits for their last sentence

© 2015 Michael Yost 08/23

The First Sin

Nothing can ever hide my flames
Winds bow down keeping away the rains
I do flap in the winds of regret
Asking will I ever pay my debt

Sins overwhelm my forgiveness
My sincerity is not conscious
Laughing aloud at my lack of faith
Hoping He rests instead on day eight

One more day to gain my faithfulness
Recognizing how hard I Acquiesce
She’s mine and the first woman named Eve
Now our sins cause us to leave and griEve

© 2015 Michael Yost 08/21


Busted seams of tattered dreams deeds hidden from the sun.

Driven by the dawning twilight, only to be spun.

Twitter Tweakers face aglow, nursing a warm beer.

Sweaty fingered Razor tweeting, “McKenzie needs a lift here.”

Last lick bindle prick, reflection surrounds the spoon.

Shifting stance, shoulder glance, hiding from the moon.

Rubbing thread bare Ruby Rigid swollen with desire.

Live for today, never stay, time will soon expire


© 2010 Michael Yost 10/30

A Very Happy Brain

Traces of Faces

Traces of faces staring while  on my calloused knees

Praying to release me from their dark ceremonies.

The Brothers slamming doors driving it back into my ears.

Overwhelming my head causing these streams of tears


Crawling up the wall slipping on the children’s tears soaked moss…

Finally falling feeling failure and another loss.

I gave away my possession’s as I was being pulled back

Keeping moldy bread that I found and water in a sack.


The ten foot doors were closed and locked.

My efforts were answered with a rock to knock.

A brown hooded robe came with dark sunken eyes.

My mind remembering all the pain, hate and lies


I was a baby left with the Brothers years before.

My nightmare’s were started behind their locked doors.

Walking through the door wishing the keystone would drop.

Remembering at eight working the fields tending the crops.


© 2015 Michael Yost 01/10