Tag Archives: days

lying fallow

Bury me inside this labyrinth bed
We can feel that time is dilated
We can spend the night in fascination
You can thread the needle time and time again…

~*~

everything shall come

to a point where

the dagger draws

deeper and the days

are cut short by

the desire to look

better, “i’ve been

here before”, bend

the irons, scarlet letter

and just let the pieces

roll away, when the dice

hits the mark right above

their concrete stage

unshakable, unbreakable

never admit to fine mistakes

seek the vigil where the

sun used to hide, before it

was all used up for another

casualty’s rude surprise

because it has been quite

a journey, though the

satisfaction was never

symmetrical—so

send the blame all along the

watchtower, for it had

always been non-functional.

~*~

Something to confide in
Something to erase
Just look at where we’re lying
An invisible space…

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sadder days

Dirty fingernails, same as your mind
But he can strum the guitar just fine
Every now and then he’d think about his life
Daydreaming just to pass the time…

~*~

today

is one of

those sad days

sadder days

morning grey

feels eclipsed

a ghost in

the window

blocking sunlight

reaching out

impalpable

sadness?

you dream

my darling, of

perhaps life

as you know it

or perhaps

nothing at all

as i pen eulogies

to my name

woe is me, my

dreams have

not been kind

they never were

but i hope

love, that yours

flourishes into

more than

sweet cosmos

and forget-me-nots

and the colour of

lilac i painted

your lips with

a pale afterglow

a subtle adoration

love, pure love

i hope all your

dreams visit you

not only when

you repose

and may they

never fall away

like, i ponder,

all those whose

footsteps have

faded from familiar

halls, missing

from freckles and

constellations

searching

for better days

or bitter days

or both—

they’ll be gone soon

but so will i

and so will you

and so will all

these sad days be

i only wonder

what time brings

for you and me

tomorrow

~*~

Now the sun is closer than it was before
Anyone who’s anyone can feel it
Saturdays are not the same as they used to be
Sadder days, why do they keep on using me?

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Cloud District

Soft thrums of raindrops

Against scarlet canvas

Crushed flower petals

Bleeding out pink on

Oceans of grey puddles

Pooling on the asphalt.

.

Shorter days, lonelier nights

Blue shoes over fresh graves

Cracks on the warm concrete,

Forgotten in the solstice midst

And a song stuck between silence

Of a boy lost under his umbrella.

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six days of a kingdom’s downfall; excluding the sabbatical

I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing
Roman Calvary choirs are singing
Be my mirror, my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can’t explain
I know Saint Peter won’t call my name
Never an honest word
But that was when I ruled the world…

~*~

i.

a carnation affectation

a wilted dahlia efflorescent

in the temple about to fall—

ii.

redemption in the fray

a sovereign right surrendered

a prayer lost to the demons.

iii.

who would i be if i failed

these chevalier discrepancies

and gave to defeat my all?

iv.

‘tis nothing but a feint allusion

a fiery sleight of hand with which

even archangels cannot summon…

v.

night cries; a knight is interred,

remains scattered to eventide mourn

and ashes buried under dungeons.

vi.

baleful messengers cease to return

as the crown is abandoned in rusted thrones

towers and castles—and a legacy long gone.

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Do You Want It All?

Cause I’m tired and I’m restless
And I’m pretty sure I met my match
And I lie here defenceless
I’m the Sunday hunters weekend war
I’ve been here, I’ve been here before…

~*~

My whole throat is wrapped all around the bedroom

And they’re singing “you’re gonna get what’s coming to you”

But I dance along to the beat of summer’s monsoons

Spinning hurricanes like weekends behind your eyes so blue

Come see me in the days that you always counted down

Starving the thoughts in your head without a simpler warning

To taste the pillows like it’s mint chocolates in a hotel bed

So when you drink your coffee, it will sting like a sour morning

But you won’t haunt me all the way into the suffocating dirt

Wash those stains off your collar and lead the colours to the earth

Take a long walk in sunset park, and I will make you believe

You will get what’s coming to you, and it’s more than what you need.

~*~

This is a warning, never gonna get
Never gonna get me out this town
Let’s start the mourning, never gonna see
Never gonna see another day…

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luna cielo

for there never was

and never will be

a finer vagrant soul

to poetically allude me

than the billows of notes

that fall from your shade

and the stars in your lips

to sing a thousand serenades

dear, if only i could compose

about all my woeful throes

in lights enchanting as yours

no word a wasted recourse

and the aesthete that lies

beneath restless amber eyes

will dream up a promise

for fallen eternity’s premise

where the universe spins

as relentless time should be

and no whispers of parallels

between the lines of you and me

i’m quite dizzy from the sun again

but i’ll close my hands, count to ten

and wait against such fragile hope

that you’re the sunrise to decode

so why do i weep, ever still?

in the midst of my bedroom floor

only bare remnants remain, until

a voice paints a distant nevermore

of faithless keep, an endless rue

tomorrow’s heart, nor i nor you

southern nights, quaint afterglow

the days pass on as we’ll quietly go

i may be weary, yet do not think

i’ll give up when i’m on the brink

let’s chase the wind, and we’ll ascend

to an everlasting paradise we can spend

for there never was and never will be

a finer valiant soul to poetically allure me

than the muse of the moon and billowing notes

that fall from your shade and the stars that you wrote.

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W i t h o u t · A · S h a r p e r · K n i f e

Honesty sold-out at face value, the price you pay for distance

The depth of your wounds can’t be measured by the doctors in the ambulance

Complicate my rising lungs and grip my falling chestnut hair

Sleep in, I won’t keep bleeding out dreams if I know you’re always right there

This battle is yours to expiate, with every star there is to count

As multitudinous as the silver glistening in your face, an ebony ink tantamount

You’re regressing back to the rejected days of golden senescence

I wouldn’t let go of the only part of my life that makes any semblance of a sense.

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silent summers and wasted memories

They used to be the rivers
That would take us away
But now you only call me
Every Christmas and my birthday…

~*~

diving into

liquid reveries

and searching for

lost words

i could never

set past my

grievous tongue

in endless

nights of misadventure

and chicanery

rife with fondness

and hyperbole

and playful kicks

jovial as it hits

our wayside brains

though never

directly spoken

we were speaking

in a language

that only we

could decipher

leaving the rest of

the world to wonder

what amuses our

strange souls so

little did they know

we were laughing

at them all along

for they could

never understand

how these broken gears

spin and stutter

and how we turn such

mechanical gnashes

into a symphony

listening to each other’s

lilting cacophonies

until sunset hits

our bloodshot eyes

bidding us its goodnight

and i yearn for those

pastel-shade days…

of glib tongues

talking about stuff

and sheer nonsense

and insensibility

and rancid relativity

and bouts of sovereignty

in blue screen deaths

and sleep infidelity

now a distant polaroid

fettered in grey

and fragmented by time

a memory daze—

i break the surface of

my reminiscing

almost forgetting to

catch my breath

and write the words

i remembered to think

but never said aloud

hoping someone could

still hear the wind…

it was a delicate summer

and yet, rather wasted

on dead air and empty silence

that much, i know

that much, i could see

and that much, i wonder

i wonder if you knew

and i’m rather curious

why are we wasting

time again?

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X Marks on the Calendar

“So I’ll toast every beat of my heart like a miracle.”

~*~

Writing scars down your stomach

The acidity ate its way to your lungs

And your decaying and putrid heart

Until you throw it back up, it stung

.

You just have a few weeks to live

Several days to breathe before you die

Which is the most god could give

Calendar holidays in red to bleed a sky

.

Another x mark in your checklist

Another x in your pallid internal system

X’s scribbled on your friends’ eyes

Avoiding your gaze to avoid goodbyes

.

Stuck in synthetic hospital wards

Until the taste is stuck in your tongue

The chlorine and antiseptic pills

Hopscotch games over the IV line one

.

World’s destiny was revolved for your leave

And you swallowed the death cure a bit late

So now you have just a few weeks left to live

But somehow that seems far too long a wait.

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