February 24, 2019

Three Poems by Kevin R. Farrell Jr.: "It Is", "Give Me a reason;I'll Decline to Reiterate the Facts", and " Free as a House Cat"

Kevin R. Farrell, Jr is an artist, poet, and educator whose works attempt to capture life from the vantage point of someone in the backseat of a stolen car running on fumes. His poems are a play on words in the form of political, satirical, surrealist, tongue in cheek rants that often border on stream of consciousness ramblings that are a last ditch effort at taking it all in before we get taken out. For more information regarding Kevin's work please contact:http://kfarrelljrart.wixsite.com/kfarrelljrart.

 Kevin R. Farrell Jr.

It Is

A thin layer of dust, 
a fan with one blade.
A heart on the nightstand, 
a broken watch and some change.
The window is open, but there isn't a breeze.
The room is on fire, he wipes the sweat from his brain.
He's scared of his dreams.
He gives the right amount of fucks, 
and couldn't care less.
He's not sure if this is the before or the after.
It's okay to be frightened.
I mean you should be, because I think this about you.
Or a character based upon you.
Either way, the only way to write someone off is to write about them.
Are you as relieved as I am?

Give me a reason; I'll decline to reiterate the facts

There's this dude who lives underground, 
rides the F all day, 
a bit of a drifter, but seems to have his shit together.

I really like what he has to say, it's as if he's speaking right to me, 
so in him I have found belief.

The message is bulletproof, as long as you wear a vest.
Some of us have written a book to capture all that he is, 
was, and will be, 
to, and for us all.
I believe in his words and I feel you should seek refuge in what he has to say.

Meet me by the third rail, 
tonight we become followers of the one and only truth.

Accept him into your heart; 
your mind, body, and soul will follow suit.
There is hope after all.

Take a stand, give it a chance.
We're rotten, no longer rotting, 
dead is dead, 
life is long, 
we've been crawling towards death since birth, 
and that's the short end of it.

You will know where I stand by the shadow I cast.
I'm not full of all that you lack, 
I've just patched the holes
and made light of all that was black.

Free as a House Cat

Firsthand accounts of second hand embarrassment, 
bear witness to double crossers and well-wishers.

Devout non-believers curse heavens non-existence, 
this serial depressive sleepwalks across my furrowed brow.

You wait and you watch, 
check the time, 
cross and uncross your legs, 
crack your knuckles, 
count the number of people you can count on.

The pointer shouldn't be used,
the middle tells the truth,
the ring finger either is or isn't,
the pinky waits for tea,
the thumb is texting,
fishing for compliments,
shooting drunks in a barrel.

Ego trips, 
acid baths, 
good riddance to bad karma.

God's smirk, 
the devil's grin, 
ghosts are merely angels without wings.

We'll be here before, 
remind me then.

Kevin R. Farrell Jr.

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