Tag Archives: back

win, win, lose

one step

forward

and two

steps back

you did

what you

can carry

and the rest

is up to me.

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The Bulls Are In Broadway

Some people have it and other people don’t
You’ve been making some threats, got my name and address
I’m breaking habits you don’t want to know
Though I’m wearing my clothes feeling cold and exposed, yeah
Don’t say you miss me, you probably don’t
Well, I’ve been crossing some lines that most folks won’t…

~*~

This is the academy of wasting second chances

And the maggots in my eyes are drying up my tears

My intuition knocked itself out on cheap champagne

As the discourse turned to an allegory dance severe

.

It’s a sociogenic alacrity, and my dress is on too tight

But I’m far too smitten by repertoire to call it a night

So remind me again, what’s my capacity for secrets?

Tell me with a gun to my head and I swear I’ll keep it

.

My lips are shivering from these hemlock-laced canapes

So admonish me for all my bad manners and mistakes

I’ll just downplay the lust for another fractured spine

The consequence for saving the best for the worst lines

.

Mismatched manipulation, but they will take it in anyway

Blink back the altercations and accusations that ricochet

With a sympathetic sigh overstepping the plague’s carnage

Like finest red wine, tragedy gets better when it’s aged

.

This transition was intransigent, an accolade for incoherence

Bent backs turned upon lacquered lies and marble-carved doors

You don’t get to die on me, not after my life has taken the perfect end

So won’t you let write the last chapter on my unresponsive monitor?

~*~

Oh, don’t say you’re more than this or above all this
With your blah blah blah and all your friends
Don’t say you think you know, when you know you don’t
Because tonight the Bulls are in Brooklyn and you’re still at home!

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Native Tongues

How can they say that it’s one way
When it’s the opposite?
And how can they know the end
Of the story before I tell it?
‘Cause when I walk, your feet
They fall to the same beat
Or maybe we’re from two different worlds…

~*~

We used to be the epitome of mindless materialism

Taking apart brick and coin for a little inkling of fun

We talked away in circles, but never in infinity signs

But it didn’t last forever ‘cause we both wanted to die

.

For I never understood why you didn’t ever understand

Until we’re left with empty voices and mismatched hands

I translated it all wrong, you decoded nothing but misery

We spoke in undecipherable tongues, so now we’re history

.

Why did we waste such eloquent words on each other’s lies?

Breathing out sombre songs that never synced the beat right

Wrought desiccated eyes with apertures that flashed blindly

And we set out separate restrictions from the cold apologies

.

We turned back but never forward and we took a couple steps

Too far until we hit the brick walls, this was far beyond any help

How could we plead that it was one-way, intersections opposite

When the fault was a double-edged tongue talking about bullshit?

.

But behind this dead mess, I do admit I enjoyed all the endless chaos

Riding the hurricane with you, and making my own cyclone at a loss

I wish you the same, and let me say I hope you don’t regret and think

Don’t forget the secrets we shared when our native tongue goes extinct.

~*~

We talk to people
But they never understand
They think we’re crazy
‘Cause it sounds like noise to them
Ain’t it strange, all the things you hear
When you sit and listen?

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Seasons in Retrograde

Come at me with everything you’ve got
Burst into flames, s
cream in the dark
I’m gonna light up this place
And die in beautiful stars tonight…

~*~

They said it wouldn’t be easy

And being homesick is better than being alone

As the moon burst into flames

I ended up igniting under my coalescing bones

.

Throw me behind the darkness

And I’ll learn to breathe without the light

As the blade swings closer to me

Love, I’ll hold it back for you, and I’ll fight

.

I’m dizzy from wreaking all this havoc

Sober as the ashes melted in my numbing lips

Counting seconds until these stars drop

I’ll catch them like a nightmare, take and keep

.

Because everything looks even more beautiful

When I’m submerged a thousand feet deep in waters

And the undersea glow is a vicious accentuation

To those pale azure eyes that speak of blank aspiration

.

For they won’t come to take you back

And being homesick is better than being alone

As the midnight sun froze into winter

I ended up embracing the perennial cold for my own.

~*~

(What do you do when you’re out of time?)
(Where do you go when they’re right outside?)
(And how do you scream when there’s no one left around?)
I’m gonna light up this place (No one left around?)
And I will be the only light, I’ll be the only light.

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metal & skin (xxi.)

it’s

fucking

good

to

be

back.

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Filed under Poetry

letters to s.d.: fragment #2 {inked}

vi[REDACTED]inc[REDACTED]te[REDACTED]

.

the tattoo of your name

embedded in the mutilated

skin of my arms, reminds

me of why i’m surviving

this wreckage of a war

they look at it like it’s dirty,

i’m besmirched with black

but it’s the only tether to reality

that keeps pulling me back.

.

to[REDACTED]rry [REDACTED]ime pre[REDACTED] mik[REDACTED]nte[REDACTED]

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[IN|out]SANE

i’m out

of my mind,

but i’ll

be back in

five minutes.

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Filed under Poetry

Ipse Dixit

You’re begging for the impossible. You plead the fifth and proclaim it’s the inevitable, but I am as solid as the philosopher’s stone circumscribed within the third chamber of my arcane comatose heart. A paralysed blood flow. A coronary heartbeat. The monitor sinks into an eclectic deadline. You perceived the evidence, assimilated the apnoea, penultimately confirmed the apoplexy with an exorbitant sigh and a commiserating disposition. Castigate my otiose conniption if you must, but it wouldn’t make any goddamned difference if I’m a cello strung across a rainbow crossing in the welkin of the Valhalla or a bagpipe resting against a river of magma and hellfire in the very eviscerating core of the earth. It is but an expendable prestidigitation, smoke and mirrors reflecting spectres in the illusion, so why abjure? He himself said it. It is a moot point in a Van Allen Hyperion. For if the very man Himself cannot prosecute it, then let it occur to your benighted follies that your playing God cannot save me. Don’t make me go back. I won’t do it. I won’t.

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Filed under Prose