Pitchforks With Cyanide Laced Angel Wings: Ninety-Five Poems

By Peter Lisowsky

Peter John Lisowsky was born in Long Branch, New Jersey in 1976. "Pitchforks with Cyanide Laced Angel Wings" is a collection of poems written between May 2006 and September 2007. All ninety-five poems were inspired by an aggregation of events that transpired during this time. This is the first publication of his poetry. Peter lives in Red Bank, New Jersey.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 12, 2011
• ISBN: 9781257608522

Book preview

days

Sheep

On the trail of the tail of the sinner

Inner voices preach the nameless army of fools

Who walks incombustible between justified lines

Primed and felled by nothing less that a truant's spear

Feared only by a fallen king of lesser man

A hopeless trinity auctioned by the senses without a cost

Lost in a prayer so unfit for the decayed breath of your day

They stumble upon the remuneration blindly like a prophet

Commit humility's irreverence into the marrow of my wilting spine

Defined only by a fallen king of a lesser man

Without the shadow of the forests our skin is burned to the bone

Alone in this future shock which binds our faceless passion

Fastened to the apportioned walls of thorns without surrender

Rendered lifeless and cerulean by the saints of absent control

Consoled only by a fallen king of a lesser man

Virtuous thanks deemed lost between the thatched grasses

Outlasting the yellow lines of murderous eyes without a peer

Feared by a river morning left solemn and swelled

Held at the highest point of the bottomless sheep womb

Doomed only by a fallen king of a lesser man

Viscera

As I tug the feathered ears of the lifeless rabbit in this hole

I can see this one way ride has been left at the door of the coming wind

Rains devour my plastic sunshine and drown my futile climb

Sublime and narrowed, I crawl on my belly to the pin light obstacle

The spurred walls dig their metal thorns into my ribcage desire

My viscera are raw as I lay upon this firefly shuttered efficacy

As I slide on to the dawn of the plush forged flowers and imitation smiles

I stand and gaze through the sunshine plow that reaps the mechanical minds

The gears, like diamonds of azure, toil and churn the waste

Weakening the summation of blinded mice in a race against time and body

My limbs are rotting as with each silent footstep on the smoldering pavement

And my wishing well has run dry in this vacant garden of gratuitous coercion

My forlorn maker is resting his quiescent misery upon me

I am distended and bloated with tragedy yet it fuels my habitual hunger

You can't fill me up; I only pine for ancillary sustenance within you

This poison has given me a consummate life inside this dormant desire

This feeling is obdurate and constant in this verve of dreams

Feed me the wine of your blood so I can consume every last drip of honey

Mascot Masochist

Did you get the fortified jet stream communication?

The word of sorrow is born tomorrow

No hope for the rivershine of your displaced mourning

The morning warning will bring another sure assessment

And the shore will lapse into another bridal coma

Just like the tidal shower of the sainted disposal

There is no hope in a prayer of the wish list suicide

Only a mascot masochist running from the message

Did the cautious notes ring clear in your rusted mind?

My only wish is the labor of a seasoned day in a borne apprentice

Anticipating everything with a blackjack blindfold oppressor

Only everything will enlighten this darkened commotion sensory

The dredged lake is running dry and we're running out of novel excuses

The fusion of the marionette purifier is raining on our self mutilated skin

So much that I can not see the questions before the answers

The message is encrypted within the fine line wishing well

Following the crumb trail into the naked woods of separation

My blurred sense of reality is slipping down the festival mountain

My bloody feet are dangling upon the heart of the penny drop fountain

Won't you fly this steam cloud so I can find my way to your shamrock ecstasy?

Only my enlightened sight will show me through the gallows of loneliness

My sensory is ignited and my daft perception is feeding on the water tower

I am one in between the thousand other water sacs of carbon and cartilage

I can hear you right before we enter this rehabilitated daylight crematorium

HLA-B27

There was no indication that your scarlet eyes were failing you

So your apathetic blindness was only a reflection of your instability

The only cure would have been to let go of the evaporating rope

But is reappeared just in time to hang us both from a tree of sanctity

Wear my human leukocyte antigens

As my body shreds itself to pieces

Mind over body advantage again

I stand idly by, wishing for lost life leases

The lancet enters the skin

Piercing more than it gives

It will stop at nothing, consuming everything

It kills more then it lives

This is not the way it was supposed to be

Everything has changed in this meddlesome cocoon

This is not the way it was supposed to be

We need to right this broken vessel because my blood is not immune

As the water turns to sand

And the precious turns to nothingness

We stare at this harvest moon with discontent

And ingest the sacred hymn that sings a tune that will divest

Running scared and exiting from its beauty

I gaze a shallow look through my third eye behind me

It's polarized by the everything in this nothing

Then I trip upon the wounded affliction that grows from your tree

As I plummet down this hillside I too am blinded by the beauty of the fall

These absent stars pass me by without a heavy wink or listless ferment

For each day that goes by a new year grows out of its weighted