Empty our definitions of ignorance.

My horoscope paints a wretched fortitude.

The liar in a field of lepers,

The hound of a parliamentary.

I face a faceless evil,

Lathered muck coats the laughable sadist.

What justifies his poisonous stupor?

His porous odor?

A pontiferous codification?

Organic waves a salutation.

The factory pursues her coitus.

Open conversions of the Nihilists,

The betterment forms an empty knowledge.

Personages filter my delicate dreaming.

A fragile transit unordered,

Under cardboard and excrement,

My eyes ferociously scan for fantastical obsolescence.

A functional lawman suffocates in stationary.

Mindful teething of Californian cattle,

Candlelit by distant obelisks.

An empty ocean poses comatose.

A steward stole my reclamation.

Louder I bellowed a restitution for stagnation.

Emptiness occupies my condolences,

Feeling what minds allow us.

Venerable is our Creator,

But whom do I revere?

Losing is a tariff on our innocence.

Winning is a tariff on our innocence.

Living is a tariff on our innocence.

Empty are definitions of our innocence.

Empty is our definition.

— Kevin J. Flors


Thanks for reading

Photograph from Pexels


part two

Featuredpart two

Guessing my seconds

failing to forget

the years I’ve wasted

the times spent crying.

A ledge staring at me

no more waiting

no more wailing

a loudness in the silence.

Show more feeling

for the sorrows

my depressing

spirit gouges.

Hallow sprites

carefully caress

the son you gave me…                                 what I gave my son.

I’d caressed, cared fully

but spry was the hollow

gouging his spirit.

His deep resting.

My sorrows for

feelings you’d shown

but silent was your loud

he wails no more

waits no more

a pledge to my star.

Crying spent my time

wasted my years

my forgotten failures

my second guessing.

–Kevin J Flors

Thanks for reading.

Photograph from Pexels

Abandonment and Dejection

FeaturedAbandonment and Dejection

Abandonment and dejection,

A boy’s name,

Desired more times than death,

More times in death.


Fermented in a bar,

With enthusiastic gullet.

How great grapes so hallow,

Transform one so hollow.


Little passion ever seen,

Showed its face in torrents,

Bony, but bellowing,

Desperately hanging.


Man was no medicine,

Nor was a muffled moonlight,

Nor a yearned sensuality,

Nor the coveted wine.


Sailors bunched around a bonfire,

Salt kindles a foul smell,

Engineered hands built to slave,

Built to hold.


The joined act of lasting,

Of loving,

Of losing,

Of still holding.


–Kevin J Flors

Thanks for reading.

Photograph from Pexels

Red Pins

FeaturedRed Pins

Hailing reigns sharpen his mind.

Amusing deconstructions of the Word.

The clandestinity of the cumulus.

What paltry its nimbus resembles?


What mindfulness we don’t own?

Smallest egos amongst the sheep of the conceited.

Excommunication of the heretics,

A banishment praising our synthetic lords.


Shallow are the shores of our capacity.

Our mind formed by the Baker.

Needed are our wants.

A wanted silence envelops the kneading.


A candid kingship, mercy does not know.

Salivated hunger pains the belly’s flame.

Lustful journey’s romance with torture,

Never ceases in congregation.


To question the capacity of power.

The seeming unattainability of it.

The obstacles we burn to breathe it.

What futility it bears?


–Kevin J Flors

Thanks for reading.

Photograph from Pexels




Birthing mandates depression,

Sinful monsters directing films,

For our eyes cannot be stopped.


Looking for answers,

Lost in lust and greed and family,

Responsibility never slumbers.


The name of our desire is Waning,

We will all die before he,

He will tease us into believing.


They only speak in exploitation,

Don’t bother learning it,

You were born to never understand.


Minds play a king of deception,

Besides the two my mother gave me,

I’ve lost all my hands.


Personifications of sound.

What really is a voice,

Without a gilded crown?


A wise man once said,

He was the leader.

Following defines our nature.


Comatose defines our coitus.


Complacency defines our torture.


— Kevin J. Flors


Thanks for reading.

Photograph from Pexels

Alienation’s Bellow Cries Death

FeaturedAlienation’s Bellow Cries Death

Alarming bells’ counting daze,

Entrancing followers’ gilded hearts.

Illusionary jungles kill lions.

Monarchical nihilism overshadows persistence.

Quickly reins shake tyranny,

Undress vixens worriedly.

Xerxes’s yielding zeal.


A broken clock doesn’t

Entertain fathers. Grieving homes.

Intrusive jingles. Knives lunging.

My neck opens purple,

Quivering. Restlessly stoic tumult.

Unheard vehemence withers.

Xenolith’s youth zombified.

–Kevin J. Flors


Thanks for reading.

Photo from Pexels.




Inevitable Lateness

FeaturedInevitable Lateness


I now understand,


My mother’s indigestion of stress,

Spat out in undesirable forms,

A bullet aimed at our apathy,

Its journey never short.


The dependence of alcohol,

An escape from skeletons,

Walking skeletons,

Or what feigns natural.


My father’s infidelity,

Disintegrating pathways.

The artistry to combine,

The chemical with the physical.



Burning their lungs and nerves,

Curing combustible flames,

When water fails to salve.


My mother’s anger,

Her sadness,





Late shipments of reminiscence,

Of overbearing failures,

Of regrets.


I now understand,


All the forgotten dreams,

Floating in stagnant wells,

Incapable of rippling,

Pressured by an unbending mold.

–Kevin J Flors



Thanks for reading.

Photograph from Pexels.



Falsettos of the falsely fallen,

Fantasize a frozen form,

Forever feeling from fountains,

Freed from forming foreclosure.


Fortitude’s folly fends fear,

Far from followed fences.

Fiercely firing fists of fire,

For foolish fascinations of forever.


Filtration funded by fingers,

But filth finds foundation,

Formations of fortune,

Forever framing their forefathers.


Fancy fowls of forever,

Forget forming failing flowers,

A fellowship of the finite,

Who find fountains in feelings.

–Kevin J Flors

Thanks for reading.

Photo from Pexels

Reminisce (Recalesce)

FeaturedReminisce (Recalesce)

The endangerment of silence,

Memories of happier times,

Of ecstasies of flying,

Realizations of falling.


Decanting cans of bitter juice,

Offerings of companionship,

And trustful barters,

Soiled by the greedy weasel.


Flecks of light,

All forming an image,

A happy cat and his pals,

A scary man and his guns.


Explosions of color,

Drawings of flat suns,

And grasses oh so green,

And lost ones, forever unseen.


The endangerment of silence,

Cries of jubilance,









–Kevin J Flors

Thanks for reading.

Photo from Pexels (With minor edits).

King Dumb

FeaturedKing Dumb


one nation

one revolutionary

named revolution


Sir Washington

washing tin




fat king

kingdom come

King Dumb

big thumb

big gun

no one

help one

help many


many watch

many clap

many laugh

many die

men die

die men


blood diamond


shed fruit

fruit bear

bear arms



police arms

police harms

arms raised

tempers raised

legs dropped

drop minds

mind issues

issue complaints

complaint conquers


conjure questions

question logic

logic trumped

Donald Trump

trump card

carted off

off with their heads

heads hung




long hair


its age

great sage

great disparage

Great Depression




one nation

one revolutionary

named revolution.

–Kevin J Flors



Cloaks cast away madness.

They suffocate mouths with sweetened candy,

Burden minds with shortened memory,

Gag hands with satiable promiscuity,


Malleable garments of plastic,

Blinding facades prevent action,

Provide warm comfort,

Encourage heedless reaction.


Shelters create hollowed shells,

Insides filled not with an omniscient organ,

Nor an intrinsically branched vein,

But solely a mandated oxygen.


Loathing locks of location,

Bind beings to bed,

Hopeless hearts without help,

Entertain entries to be entities bled.


Blistering cauldrons hoggishly occupied,

Bubbling cells of juvenile display,

Coating pools with soapy film,

Smother bodies with naiveté.

–Kevin J Flors

Thanks for reading. When considering organizational structure of this poem, I really wanted to experiment with traditional poetry while still making it clear that the poem is traditional. This is common with a lot of my recent poetry; that is, providing subtle changes to traditional poetry structure. Whether it is using a strange rhyming structure (Limits to Success)  or having specific stanzas that provide a unique word pattern (like this poem). With that being said, I want to further expand my poetic structures by being experimental beyond traditional or my modernized attempts at recreating the traditional and I plan on doing this in the near future.

Picture from Pexels with a few edits.

The Bravest Beaver

FeaturedThe Bravest Beaver

Trepidation bests the bravest beaver.

The protection it provides is eternally temporal,

Until thought of hubris reigns,

Crafting rains of aquatic torment.



Foliage is painted with cartilage,

From those too wholesome to live.

Young weasels unscathed by fire,

Further starve those in water.



Slamming chords of mischievous instruments,

Cause snared beasts to helplessly cower.

In homes of bloodied limbs and venison,

Transformed by rhythmic toddlers.



Animals trembling from grieving stomachs,

Sharply yawp at their ageless deities.

Blunt pleas are blatantly ignored,

And hearts are sluggishly dried.



Flashes of light display hope,

But sources shine from gluttonous hunters,

Looking for easy prey,

Added to eternally temporal prisons.


–Kevin J Flors


Thanks for reading.

Picture from Pexels


Limits to Success

FeaturedLimits to Success

Determination gasps for air,

Undeniable pangs of dust,

Exhausting will from the man who made,

Difficult tasks ones of a comforting ire.


Yet ideas fail to flow,

Water stagnant in an abandoned fountain,

Coins from hopeful, desperate mothers,

Snatched from children of stubborn heir.


Breathing voices call from the past,

Haunting regrets never entail expiration,

Wishes for forgiveness to enter their hearts,

Wishes for air so lungs can grow.


Requests of unachievable fortitude,

Gore out the minds of worried men,

Who eternally grow numb to their suffering,

A suffering once selfishly wished to last.


Elder times grow a moldy tedium,

Shared spaces of sublimity,

Eviscerated by raucous flames,

Of envious greed and ineptitude.


Scholars effervescent and outgoing,

Never chained by insurmountable achievement,

Never pressured to be intuitive,

Never tied to a dated medium.


He’s held together by design,

Deflating but never popping,

Squeezing but never bursting,

Hurting but never dying.


Never given a purpose but to be the purpose,

The reason for other’s success,

And the proprietor of  their failures,

All motives forced to resign.


Extinguished ash in a wildfire,

Whilst embers around him never cease to crisp,

But sure to inevitably fail,

Blazing just enough to erase a carcass.


–Kevin J Flors


Thanks for reading. I wanted to express the issues some inventors may have gone through or are going through. Being an inventor is really a thankless job, unless you are one of the big names like Edison. But the inventor of everyday objects that we use today go unappreciated even sometimes in death. For example, I could not attempt to guess the inventor of everything in my bag, or the bag itself. And this has to do a lot with branding. Sure I have a Dell laptop, but unanswered questions like, “Who first invented the laptop?” are unknown and most times neglected (The inventor of the first laptop is Adam Osborne). I also wanted to express some pressures artists or more well-known celebrities have to constantly create fresh and relevant content (that also has to be entertaining). Few celebrities achieve this, and those that fail drown in irrelevancy. I suppose the argument of money is in play, but I feel that first-world issues like these are often overlooked and I wanted to bring attention to them, even if it is not all too merited.

Picture from Pexels

The Power Ancestry Holds

FeaturedThe Power Ancestry Holds

Ancestral beings of cultural divides,

Grown rampant in strange places,

Of heartless origin, in thoughtless action,

Weary to the idea of embraces.


Grudging darkness bound by light,

United in fantasies of desperate clamors.

Broken nails of maritime transports,

Unraveled disdain of illuminated hammers.


Light ironically grew colorful,

Rays of unabashed emerald,

Shone brightly to heartless mammals,

But dully to what heartless resembled.


Unalterable rays of past reject waiver,

Reaching everlasting states of anxieties.

The deteriorating power of light,

Falsified by undeserving deities.


Empowering of false conduits,

Unaware of their fraudulence.

Ideological development of superiority,

Capitalizing on ideas of ignorance.


A salty stench of modern giants,

Overpowers those of sugar and spice,

Forcibly worn on darkened souls,

From cruel ancestors who play nice.


–Kevin J Flors

Thanks for reading. The power of ancestry nowadays is all the more prevalent with the recent showings of racism in Charlottesville and with unjust killings by police officers that more and more seem to be based in large part on the skin color of the people they see. Some white people believe that they have this superiority over other races, and that is blatantly false. The fact that all this is going on is crazy and the fact that people in media can’t defend it is furthering the insanity. I do want to say that I do not believe our recent President promoted racist individuals to act as ignorantly as their beliefs. I believe it has indirectly come about as an unexpected and unfortunate outcome of lastly having an African-American president. The unjust actions of these racist individuals should be unacceptable in any society, but especially in one that promotes ideas of diversity and acceptance.

Guardians of Wealth

FeaturedGuardians of Wealth

Gracious guardians of wealth,

Form more perfect unions,

To promote private welfare,

To free others from further suffering.


While they start harvesting,

Those who afford to live,

In a land far less free,

Than a homely Cuban bay.


Those who dare stray,

These rich goliaths,

Throw shiny rocks,

Entertaining drab shepherds,


As their young get devoured by leopards.

Justice enforced by slaves,

Inevitably dying,

From waves of disdain,


Or grams of cocaine.

Undivided attention is what,

Gargoyles of greed crave.

Devout to no god,


But those they can’t prod.

Yet towns filled with,

Adoration and sympathy,

Giving wishes only of good health,


To these gracious guardians of wealth.


— Kevin J Flors

Thanks for reading. The recent Emmy’s award show inspired me to write this and it turned more political then I had thought it would when I started.  The main feature of this poem that I love is on the technical level. I am proud of the rhyme scheme I incorporated in between the stanzas. I am also proud of the references I sprinkle into the poem, because I normally stray away from allusions and the like. With that being said, it brings about an interesting viewpoint. I do not want this poem to be one that numbs people to good deeds done by those that are these, “guardians of wealth.”  I just want to provide a new perspective to how American society can be viewed and help people think of new perspectives when it comes to the capitalistic society we live in.

Picture from Pexels

Independent Thoughts

FeaturedIndependent Thoughts

Isolation had haunted his mind.

Restless with no insight,

That his creative heart was still,

Thumping charms of immeasurable fright.


Grief could not interpret,

The hymnals of anger.

Uninterrupted words,

Entwined in a sour rancor.


Rendering worthless waiting,

This was the end…


…the end this was,

Worthlessly waiting to rend.


Soured rancor was entwining,

His words uninterpreted.

Angrily sang hymnals,

Grief had interrupted.


Fright had measured charming thumps,

Still in his hearts. Creation,

In sight, was not rested,

For minds had haunted his isolation.

–Kevin J Flors

     Thanks for reading. I’ve thought about using this reversal technique in my poetry for a while. I just couldn’t think about a topic to cover until now. I do not plan on doing this for all my poetry, but it is a change to a normal structure that I hope is welcome. The main issue I have with this poem is the cryptic nature of it. Cryptic writing has never been a strength of mine, so if you dislike it, please keep in mind that I am trying my best to develop all my skills. With that being said, I do think this is a great poem that dives into the issues and emotions of the human mind and how it  determines our behaviors when being independent and how it can later affect the issues of socialization.

Picture from Pexels