Tag Archives: clever

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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Plastic Brains

The feigned humanity

That plastic lips fabricate

Speaking of sincerity

As the scarlet inside fades

.

How can mechanical eyes

Speak of soul, speak of pain?

How can a monochrome vein

Bleed out in sunshine and rain?

.

Perhaps hands have to be clever

Perhaps they just fool themselves

But just how could a plastic mind

Speak about the truth of oneself?

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shut up when you’re talking to me

We keep the beat with your blistered feet
And we bullet the words at the mockingbirds singing
Slept through the weekend and dreaming
Of sinking with the melody of the cliffs of eternity
Got postcards from my former selves saying “How’ve you been?”

~*~

those clever words

are only things

you said in your sleep…

but i still listened,

and i still believed in them.

i’ll wear my heart on

my sleeve just so i could

wear something new

i’ll wear my brain over my shirt

just so i could pretend that

it’s something true—

but feeling and thinking

is already out of style

so guess my fashion statement

is faded, bleached out in

the bad kind of vintage

so won’t you give me

a cheap trick and tell me

“don’t be cruel, honey”

like the parasite that ravaged

our lips turning to scarlet

but i couldn’t find the letter

or monarch butterflies

in our holiday down in las vegas

when we lost the highway

for the third time that evening.

it’s a picture perfect eternity

the goodbye that never leaves

it’s the most insincere you and me

the “happy birthday” that doesn’t age

have i blown your mind yet?

or were you distracted by misery?

there’s no take two’s, i’m afraid

but encore’s full of apologies

so just talk, like it’s all we can do

talk because it’s all we can do

and listen to the insomnia

lash out in crashing profanities

if you’re too afraid to stay

‘cause these doldrums won’t play out

forever…would they?

~*~

Whoa oh, we’re so miserable and stunning
Whoa oh, love songs for the genuinely cunning
It was ice cream headaches and sweet avalanche
When the pearls in our shells got up to dance
You call me a bad tipper of the cradle
Tired yawns for fawns on hunter’s lawns…

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Oh, Ain’t That Clever? (The Hundred Dollar Profanity)

Mirror, mirror on the wall
Who’s the ugliest of them all?
Severed, crawling like spiders
Injecting poison, now kill the bile spewing
The walking selfish living dead
I turn to rust and you play
In all the filth that you’ve created…

~*~

Sweet milk will still taste spoiled

If the mouth is too putrid and rotten

And barbaric words just don’t define

Someone’s being a “good” person

.

Underhanded plagues dyed the rain

With condescension and redder stains

With a wish that the cleave cuts deep

And that leather flesh will never heal

.

As judging eyes feel the need to gloat

Like skies on fire, the ashy vanity floats

Prison’s good but the abuse feels numb

All hands on them until they succumb

.

It’s fine to feel fine, the need to feel needy

And pride has never been so carelessly greedy

But freedom will still taste like putrid decay

When the body’s too bitter to feel the right way.

~*~

And when your dreams have come to end
How will you buy your happiness?
And when your self is all you have left
With what will you fill your emptiness?
You are the cause of man’s dissolving evolution
Is my heart completely useless?

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ii.) heartbeat recital.

beautiful-flowers-photography-sky-Favim.com-1851708

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A Pontificating Performance

Today I fell and felt better
Just knowing this matters
I just feel stronger and sharper
Found a box of sharp objects
What a beautiful thing
Do you want a song of glory
Well I’m fucking screaming at you…

~*~

There isn’t a need to stick

Your sanctimonious wooden nose

High up and mighty in the air

For you reckon you’re so clever

And a marvellous timely troubadour

With your prevarications of despair

Oh, special, pretty, little white flower

The crowds adore your recherché

And a flounce of your plaited hair

But your hagiographic glass eyes and

Pinocchio nose impales mendacity

The audience bleeds whenever you share

Soon they will disperse haughtily

Leaving your stage in its desolation

And next time no one would give a care

So pray not be quite presumptuous

And see all sides of the icositetragon theatre

When you’re performing to be fair.

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Manie Di Grandezza

I aimed for simplicity

You chose grandiose delusions

Silk and velvet tapestry

Of a finest gasconade illusion

Whence I garner a cut

You have to bleed yourself dry

A drop’s never enough

Lest a laughingstock you defy

Your imperial desires

For a regal cinematic decorum

Every breath conspires

Such braggadocio, cockalorum

For there’s an audience

Of your loyal subjects watching

You can afford to be dense

For sakes to impress, captivating

Enthralling national idiots

With your claims of perspicacious

And to assure your own lot

Of self-manipulativeness edacious

Such pompous destitutions

Graces, bluster, and rodomontade

Gauche piquant ostentations

With a tatterdemalion promenade

Your stiff upper lip wavers

As parades of pomp and circumstance

Feels more presumptuous

Than your supercilious happenstance

Omnipotence and wealth

With such expansive superior qualities

Are not good for your health

So keep it to your arrogant psychosis

With severest egocentricity

And an overachiever’s self-applauses

Comes great responsibility

And medical attention for the clauses

Oh King Richard, vainglorious

Lend me your ears and heed my calls

Come hither from ivory tower

The greater you are, the harder you fall

You may be condescending

Reckon you’re an alpha, the orgulous omega

Fortunately, it’s a bad ending

For, I’m afraid, no one bows to megalomania.

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The Madness of the Raven

“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven…

~The Raven; Edgar Allan Poe

~*~

Perched on a stone, a watchful raven

Searching warily for his personal haven

Where the intruding sun need not shine

In a valley of dry bones, dust, and grime

.

Feathers shaded of deepest midnight

Ruffled wings of a most tactical flight

Sharp talons and beak speckled rust red

Beady eyes devoid of soul, almost dead

.

A well-known thief and a nasty trickster

They all despised his dictated nature

Sleight built inside his stone-cold heart

Clockwork instincts he cannot stop

.

But the raven had a mind of great intellect

A fondness for knowledge, a smart aleck

Yet stirred, obscured by a darker retrospect

Transmuted horror by a nefarious speck

.

He turned to gloom and beguilement

Eroded to dust by his own endowment

Hated like vultures, made stupid like crows

His lost common sense shutting to a close

.

Here thus perches the lonely ebony raven

With a vision of cleverness and high maven

But no one ever listens to his caws of witiness

Because all they can see was just another form of madness.

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Us Clever Fools

Listening, are you stupid or what?
Just using words
No simpleminded person would know…

~*~

“What say you not, my dear?”

You ask precariously, yet somewhat jauntily

From your gilded tongue, cunningly cavalier

Using sugarcoated words, sliding smoothly like honey

I should have noticed that slight slither

Like a snake about to devour its prey, a ruthless predator

But I was broken apart, and apparently deaf

Wishing for any and all company that I never met

And so I talked.

~*~

“What say you not, you idiot?”

Falling to my knees, I ask myself one more time

Equanimity forgotten, heart in a hard clot

Spitting words cathartically, trying to purge the poison in mine

You should not have noticed my vulnerability

You should have walked away, leaving me a piece more whole

But you are edacious, stopping at nothing to have fun at trickery

Preying at us hopeless, rotten, pathetic, affinitic fools

Now I’m at a loss for words.

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