Tag Archives: blur

Repetitions

Clever minds think alike

Don’t you, don’t you think?

A line so blurred, I can’t decipher

In varying shades of both ink

.

Clever minds think alike

Can’t you, can’t you think?

A curse so shared, it’s almost weird

Or did your mind just blink?

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phantom boy

don’t you go,

phantom boy

i’m still not done

painting your portrait

to hang in my walls

long after the house rots,

long after i’ve passed away.

they said to let you go

for you’ve already found

your bluest heaven

where you can sleep with

fleecy floral angels,

but i don’t think i could

let you go that easily.

i want to capture you,

your ethereal silhouettes,

your faded outlines,

your scars and scepticisms,

your details and blurs,

and your coalescing heart.

because i still have mine,

phantom boy

and it beats angrily—

refusing to let me rest

until every colour, linework,

and careful brushstroke

is immaculate and

tastes tangibly of you.

i know you wish to leave soon,

phantom boy…

but won’t you please stay

and spare me just

one last masterpiece?

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b.r.a.i.l.l.e.

i am with the wind.

and the exhilarating thrill

envelops every sense,

taking my aching bones,

my hour-old bruises,

my smiling chipped teeth,

my angry brown scabs,

and lulling them back to rest,

making the pain seem like

just another pastel dream.

everyone’s just a myriad blur,

a riot of ceaseless colours

all rushing past me as

wheels bite gravel and spins

me to a whole new revolution

of a different planet in a

different existence where all

those bad memories don’t exist,

only i, and the sweat and rain

soaking the angel wings on

my back; feeling gravity

and friction and momentum

and all those ethereal forces of

the universe ensconced between

my scuffed red sneakers.

it’s all tricks and treats,

and it doesn’t matter if i fall

and eat concrete a thousand times

trying to do the same thing over again;

it doesn’t matter if i go home

always with new holes all over my

favourite jeans and jumpers

every single damn time;

it doesn’t matter if i’m being

chased away by the people who

think it’s a vagrant’s crime…

because the past and future tense

doesn’t matter when freedom

is felt right here, right now,

with me and my ride,

and i am the wind.

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write and wrong

i’m a liar

and a faker

and i just can’t

say it straight

hide behind

this wall of words

and you can’t

read me so you

would hate

how quite vexing

i am, when i

think i speak so

honestly profound

and i preach

unholy gospels

like another

nameless sound

make a story

with a soft landing

like that would

help the blow

but all it does is

pretend i’m not

dying, that heaven’s

the place to go

i’m a liar

and a faker

i don’t know how

to be sincere

and i wish i could

change myself

but i blurred the

lines too much

to return into clear.

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iv.) intersections.

aesthetic-forest-road-trees-Favim.com-2544080 (2)

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Fools, Faces, and Forgetting Failures

Oh demon alcohol
Sad memories I cannot recall
Who thought I would say
Damn it all and blow it all…

~*~

Play the game of fools and faces

Ambling past with phonetic races

In alleyways and brandy tankards

Spurring girls alongside bastards

This night is thin like a toothache

Pull out wisdoms simply to irritate

Call for the shots of drunken stars

Losing glow against whiskey bars

Swimming thoughts, nausea wave

Heartless vultures scavenge stave

Tipsy slurs of unromantic promise

The one night stand with a premise

Inebriation and foxy lady nictitation

Three cheers for it, cold abnegation

Angel pills of androgen adolescents

High on hell, pubescent punishment

Let’s play the game of fools and faces

Eating pavement and bloodshot gazes

Have a last sip of regret, just to be sure

You’ll forget forget anyways, it’s all a blur.

~*~

Oh demon alcohol
Memories I cannot recall
Who thought I would fall
A slave to demon alcohol?

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Cloudburst Cogitations #5: Ring Around The Riot

Pinwheels and whirligigs

Dizzy, dizzy, dizzying me

Ferris wheels and carousels

Spinny, spinny, spinning free

.

Revolving discombobulation

A blurry world in fast rotation

Colours blending, vision bending

Until your two feet are wending

.

Circles silly, dithering twirly

Dizzy, spinny, dizzy, spin me

Pirouette faint to a final slow

Giggle as you fall from vertigo.

🎡🎡🎡

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