Tag Archives: archaic

Stories For The Antique Shops

Let’s get carried away, we can’t go back to yesterday
Call out the names that you used to know
Singing along in broken stereo
Crossfire that you can’t ignore
I know I’m not around much anymore…

~*~

Here, what was gained was a premeditated loss

Point fingers for blame but never find the cause

Heartwarming situations turned out to be coaxed

Just another fool’s trick, just another foolish trope

.

Because diluted explanations don’t seem to matter

And it’s condemnation to inquire, it’s better to sue

Because the blatant assumptions are held hostage

By a shotgun until the pastor proclaims them true

.

With what’s sincerity I thought there was to abate

Yet it was another fraud you meant to indoctrinate

Was it all fake, then? Was it just a sorry Wonderland

You’d climb to the rabbit hole and let go of my hand?

.

Though for a moment, there was something truly going

By a hairline fracture, by a sinew of flesh barely hanging

But I suppose you got tired holding on to something archaic

Pardon me for being worn-down, never being timely classic.

~*~

One last time for old time’s sake
One more bend before we break
One more time as if we planned it
We just wanna do some damage
So long, so nice to know you…

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The Towers of Santo Dominique

That letter I sent

Lost at heart

Lust—

Indited…

A floral destiny was mine to be.

Over which

Constables and

Troubadours and

Knaves and the

Jesters and all

Aldermen have

Fought over, yet

Gone, begotten by

The nary prince that

Stood forth upon the gates

Of the limestone castle

As he passed along for my arms,

Hearkened unto ballads,

Holding a mint envelope,

Hoping to be desired.

Fourscore years hath he

Travelled over glebes and

Moors for a princess

Hence he inquires now.

I refused mine hand,

Why, which sensible dame

Dares to cast even skin

For a roaming heathen

Wild eyed and contraband?

Yet; goodly as I erelong,

Forthwith his compeer begins

Persisting and pursuing

The masks that he now put

For a show of cavalry, mayhap

And severe generosity

To make milkmaids surely faint

Oh, dear sire, but not I, said we

I am a stubborn lot, I fare

And one ritual is all it takes.

So I held my stone heart

In one lithe hand;

Lightning pendant in the other

Glim of light betwixt,

And prayed for redemption.

My wishes were painted,

Yet, in a cruel djinn act

And, on the morrow

The bricks began to fall

And the rain wept in agony

As screams intertwined with

Death church knells, tolling;

Warning for oncoming doom.

Yet, oh tragedy—! Not too soon

Did it come, all too late, and

The towers crashing

Over Santo Dominique

Twisted a thousand fates

And claimed a hundred souls

I wailed in bereavement

And I proclaimed to fled

Thinking myself a wretched witch

A damnable soul, I.

But still he, braveheart,

The chivalrous gentleman,

The unfaltering prince,

He pulled me from the wreck,

As he did hundred others,

He did the work of an army,

A battalion borne to save.

He claimed with intensity,

And passion forsooth,

And calm forgiveness,

And faith in his God and I

For mine spare emotions

Yet humanity is a fragile thing

And hearts more fragile so

And two of such broke

As I realised my cruelty,

As he passed on within my arms,

Hearkened unto dirges,

Holding a tattered envelope,

Hoping still to be wanted,

That neither

The constables

Nor troubadours

Nor jesters

Nor knaves

Nor alderman

Can even begin to pertain

Yet asunder our destiny was to be.

Indited…

Love—

Lost at heart

The letter I sent.

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