Tag Archives: 3 AM

try, but the taste of blood remains

the taste

on your tongue

is called

bitter resentment,

and you

better get used to it

’cause you

can’t wash it away

with the

strongest apology.

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Serve Chilled

The best form

Of revenge

Is the one that

Manifests

All on its own.

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Cosmic Band-Aids

The coalescing Seattle twilight was an interplaying illusion of dusk and haze, warm colours replacing the pastel skylines, only to be painted over by the deep indigo eventide. The local rustic town café was already closing up, and they barely had time to finish the last bites of their chocolate bonbons and sip the remaining drops of their hazelnut vanilla frappé, before the intermittent barista ushered them out—quite literally, with a tremulous hand and an apologetic jilted demeanour. Now they stood outside the establishment in introspective reverie, dimmed bronze sodium streetlight the only solitary light source that resiliently pierced through the caliginous melancholy.

She was a blushing rose, liquid and pale, every infinitesimal detail somehow magnified to be remarkably interesting. Fragrance of baby’s breath and frankincense, posture of a regal and sophisticated monarch, delicate face as that of an angel’s glimpse of paradise, personality of an intricate vintage lock and a million exploding suns. Her companion, admittedly, was a person of less enigma, yet was still a character of significance, an oakwood branch, roughly-hewn and intense, simple yet charismatic. That svelte and cheeky-looking fellow had untidy coffee-tint hair, a discursive ironic smirk, an insouciant slouch, and a steely glint that, more often than not, signalled trouble.

As the fog and the regent shadows further intensified, the pauses and discomfited silence between them further attenuated. Moments passed. Her candyfloss-pink sundress fluttered like a jaded butterfly as she tucked a frayed bookmark behind her seashell ear, and her taciturn companion watched her intently, like an engrossed pawnbroker. Without permission, he began to remove his worn tan overcoat and gingerly placed the article over her cool shoulders, still warm and cosy by his own body heat. Flustered by the uncalled attention, she turned away to brush a stray raven hair back into her gossamer tufted bun, and lost grip of her book of poems, fragile pages yellowed and dogeared with age. Sylvia Plath’s ancient anthology dropped with a soft thump right side up, opening uncannily on the centre page containing Mad Girl’s Love Song, and both bent down and fumbled clumsily to pick it up in haste.

Fingers tangled. Glances exchanged. Blue eyes collided with green. Hands clenched. Throats choked. Hearts skipped. Breaths hitched. Souls shattered. Their blueberry-strawberry swirl ice cream melted absently like calligraphy on the pavement. The book now lay abandoned and forgotten, its unspoken poetry dancing alongside the breeze. No words were whispered. None were necessary. Overhead, the last of the brimstone shades faded away, and incandescent stars splashed the darkness of the falling sky. Below, firework eyes showered sparks, and skins intertwined. Witnessing it all, hiding behind the wisps of pewter clouds and overlooking the nocturnal planet, the glowing moon quaintly smiled.

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don’t count your coins in the wishing well

the way

the fields

collapse away

it’s beautiful,

isn’t it?

I thought it will

save us all.

a million dollar

painting

for a museum

on the moon

making us

look

like anthills

on the mountain.

this planet

is too dumb

to avoid despair

wholeheart;

and they’ve

been nursing that

cup of coffee

for ten hours

now,

hoping to reduce

the headache;

but like

cigarette stains

and ink

on their lips

and red and gold

medal ribbons,

it never

does fade.

yet,

the way

the revolution

sings with orbit

and crashes

with lives,

it’s beautiful…

isn’t it?

i thought it

will save me.

so where did

everything

go?

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Dénouement

Take a chance, take your shoes off
Dance in the rain
Yeah, we’re splashing around
And the news spread all over town…

~*~

Liquid dreams trickling on vinyl phone booths

Scarlet like cherry on our velvet sundae cone

Gauze of satin clouds swathed soft to soothe

A tepid peppermint tea that tastes like home

A demure pondering etched on a palimpsest

Calliope tintinnabulation of wind chimes sing

The Susquehanna river cascading chary west

Redolence of expensive pink perfume wafting

The vespertine serene, raven welkin starrified

Our pastiche of paradise, the cosmos taciturn

As I walk to descend the orbit, by the riparian tide

My bunbury maiden bides, anticipating my return.

~*~

You remind me of a few of my famous friends
Well that all depends on what you qualify as friends…

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Stardust

~*~

“The nitrogen in our DNA. The calcium in our teeth. The iron in our blood. The carbon in our apple pies were made in the interiors of collapsing stars. We are made of star stuff.” ~Carl Sagan

~*~

Shooting stars watch me fall apart

And clothe me in the great yellow sun

Dance on a boulevard of broken hearts

Sparkling shards of my regretted fun

Dashing comets spun around the clock

Chasing off Time’s ceaseless wails

Asteroids in collision course with rocks

Running after their own scorching tails

Lace my DNA with the nebula’s love

Genes of intoxicating nitroglycerine

My fingertips sends their best regards

To the Northern Lights waving between

Negative particles nibbling at the dark

Hungry midnight devouring the light

But worry not for there’s always a spark

That gives it a stomachache and fights

The universe grows in a mad blaze of glory

Won’t you hear out my quaint sacrifice?

Bored galaxies don’t care much for my story

Humans are but creatures of early demise

For what are we compared to their stellar gears

But some wispy aches and sinews of skin?

Astral plains have shed marvellous tears

Yet we’re but without fates floating within

But just as stars will collapse and embrace

And our old ivory bones will creak and rust

Like everything in this infinite soul of space

We all must revert to stardust.

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Comic Aches

A heavy heart on the boulevard tonight…
Shooting stars watch me fall apart tonight…

~*~

A MILLION LIGHT YEARS…

Keep on fighting hard, little yellow star

The haunt of the darkness ain’t all there is to fear

The journey is slow, Earth’s atmosphere is still far

But ahead of you, you still have a million light years.

~*~

THE PATH TO HOME

An unkindness of the night, you seek your home

Your eyes are devoid and your pallid heart is torn

But seek not the angry shadows that shall bother you so

But instead set your soul’s compass on the oncoming morn.

~*~

GRAVITY

The Aurora is up there, welcoming and beckoning

Whilst my sore feet are still stuck on this dusty dirt road

But maybe if I reach on further and just keep on jumping

Gravity will get tired of me and finally let me go.

~*~

GALAXY SHORES

There’s an indescribable method to your madness

If you seek the maelstrom black holes of the oncoming blue

But if you manage to swim out of the dimension of sadness

There’s an entire chromatic universe out there, patiently waiting for you.

~*~

…AND A LAST GLIMMER OF HOPE.

Little yellow star, scintillating bright on through

Past the arid fog, dimming clouds, and the hazy smoke

Lonesome in the midnight heaven, winking back true

Allowing me to still perceive that shiny bit of hope.

~*~

…I’ve got my heavy heart to hold me down
Once it falls apart, my head’s in the clouds
So I’m taking every chance I got
Like the man I know I’m not…

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