Tag Archives: final

3 a.m. cake and day-old coffee

I can’t afford the kind of love you sell
But I can’t afford to ever watch you leave
Won’t you come and put your sugar on my tongue
You’ve got your spell on me…

~*~

i would pretend

that it’s to mask

the bitterness

and overpower

it with even more

bitter grounds,

or to dislodge

the hard lumps

forming in my

drying throat,

but i’m not that

deluded or fucking

melodramatic—

or maybe i am.

the cloudy creams

of ivory frosting

melts with a touch

of tawny coffee,

perspectivism

and disillusions

blending madly

as i sit there,

stuffing my rictus

with pastries in

the darkness, like

a total gluttonous

shameless piece

of poison pie.

i am disgusting;

but i’m merely

enjoying crumbs

and leftovers of

my ant-eaten sanity,

trying to kill time

and soured anxiety

with decadent sugar

and innocent tongues,

all while attempting

to ignore the fact

that the immense

sweetness makes me

want to throw up.

and i indulge in the last

few poignant pieces

of a humbled life,

before this cold cake

and day-old coffee

becomes my final meal.

~*~

I’m the only one who knows
The secret places that the light don’t show
(The light don’t show) You know…

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

letters to s.d.: final fragment #8 {postscript}

Sent: June 28, 2017
Received: August 19, 2017

.

[REDACTED]c, p[REDACTED]re fucking for[REDACTED]le m[REDACTED]e.

.

i failed you.

i thought i could win

but i just let override me

i let it bite my skin

i let it numb and desensitise me

i can’t look you in the eye

as you tell me i’m at my best

but i look at your scars

and it feels like a stab in the chest

if you can, then i can too

but fuck, guess we’re both wrong

despite all my attempts

despite all your painless songs

save the time, as i’m falling

so goddamn stop me

but you can’t help anymore

it’s not like the way it used to be

this was…all for you

all for you alone, all this time

and aren’t i so selfless

to pay you with my crimes?

i remember that you always say

“darlin’, you’ll okay”

and i want so badly to believe

but i have a short breaking point

and this is all i can give

the choice is mine for the taking

what’s another funeral wake?

i’ve gone in far too deep in

and  i’m left with vanished stars

so i can only pick the best

and if i die, i can finally awaken

i’m a coward, i know

but you don’t have to be

struck with contrition for a

guileless naïve stranger

hell, i’m never strong enough

to overpower my own foolish self

that much, at least, is true

no, i’m just not fucking strong enough

f     o     r        y     o     u.

i’m so sorry, s.d.

.

but before i say goodbye permanently, i would like to confess that you’r[CONTENT MISSING]

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

C.C.

In my shoes, a walking sleep
And my youth I pray to keep
Heaven sent hell away
No one sings like you anymore…

~Black Hole Sun; Soundgarden

~*~

You didn’t stay

For the encore,

But you left a

Mark deeper

Than the cut

Of the razor.

You didn’t stay

To take a bow,

But you are a

Legend, you

Didn’t need

One anyhow.

Rock in peace.

3 Comments

Filed under Poetry

★ fullstop ★

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

there’s rest stops

and sweet shops

and turnpikes round the bend

there’s full cups

and empty taps

and cheers for ingénue bartend

there’s star luck

and moon rocks

and southern constellations wend

there’s quaint hops

and full stops

but the serendipity truly never ends.

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry, Southern Constellations

Heaven’s Final Calling

Heaven calls vociferate from above

Desecrating all that you have loved

Beleaguering ire those fainthearted

And their ruthless lions they’ve wed

For their agonies are immeasurable

If only mere mortals were to comply

God, mercy, if only He were still able

Rains down His purloin fates belied

Questioned not their imbued hearts

Played an imbibed lagniappe vitality

Lay down the sword you’d torn apart

Jesters shall feign comedic coronary

Faith’s gone, replaced with hypocrisy

Lusts of wealth and truant infallibility

Hell’s drowned with innocent sinners

Or dernier cri of veins being severed

Epiphany of a gregarious population

Impecunious and rich, in descension

Moratorium of planet in amanuensis

Cognoscenti of exculpated paralysis

Gust of wings, they seek redemption

Death of dogma and nascent nations

Heaven, it calls, yet no longer to invite

But to declare war upon the world it uprights.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

An Epitaph For The Celestial Marching Mercenaries Of The Final Apocalypse

The pious mercenary calling

Ivory halos bent and broken

Freedom, they were waging

With the price of lives stolen.

~faded tombstone inscription

~*~

The hooves came thundering one day, the pale blue horizon turned a foreboding scarlet

As four harbingers arrived, doing damage and causing War, Famine, Pestilence, and Death

The Ultimate Evil broke free from his fettered state, rose in power from the chains and ashes

The end was nigh, anarchy was high, until the skies opened up, and down flew the mercenaries

.

The immaculate mercenaries have come dawning upon our land today

Creating silent storms with their inexorable wings of pure liquid gold

Iridescent forms, fragile butterfly swords dipped in the blood of God

Legends from the end of a century troubadours failed to have foretold

.

Sheaths unravelling and suspended upon the silken strings of calling

Fundamental foundations on which this warring viridian planet o’er lay

For these cavalier soldiers fought and rallied against the stars falling

And saved restless cadavers from treason and potential further decay

.

Celestial hierarchy in motion, choirs of cherubim, seraphs, archangels

Sanctity of the war, exhibition like the clashing forces of moon and sun

White robed guardians arched in a delicate art of finesse, even in battle

Against the austerity of chthonic snarling demons, caliginous as they run

.

An empire of clattering bones and dripped silvery blood and carnage

Ashes choking the northeast breeze along with static crepuscular image

Stones cast whereupon heroes and kings once toasted glass in victory

The tainted lights of the sunset in a thousand days of a darkened glory

.

Holy weapons disintegrating the darkness, wield halos and hand grenades

Line after line of fiends are struck down, interlocked in a contrite parade

In the black and white of the opposed legions, thus occurred a stalemate

It seemed, for just a scintilla moment, that the better had won in this state

.

Yet when the eleventh hour struck, the stained battlefield was wrought

Half the army has gone to waste, and the other half left to fled for good

One survived, a lone figure in brutal combat, the shadows it still fought

Feathers plucked clean raining like hail, yet still, he relentlessly stood

.

Staring upon the paramount beast, standing drenched, shivering in turbid Stygian waters

Looking headlong into his glaring chaotic eyes, mocking, cackling, loathing splattered

A singular hope surged upon his severed veins, energy by grace of God’s dissemination

And with a last leap of faith and roar, he dashed past with broken wings to finish the book of revelation

.

The final frontier has been appended, and the end is a pyrrhic victory with irreparable losses

A defended vengeful side for an unknown singular cause, cost total obliteration to the masses

A valley of casualties lain like a tainted painting, from which artists dare not lay upon the canvas

With the sun burnt out, an frigid winter blanketed Gaia, and Elysium’s throne waited empty, alas!

.

Unsure of who gained the upper hand in this ordeal, a semblance of Heaven and Hell’s last swan song

In pace requiescat, a whisper carried by the last wind, bereft and morose, onto the gales forlorn and strong

And tet all that remains of this violent sordid affair is torn fragments of a yellowing parchment

Yet I tell this tale now, eulogy writ in my own quill and liquid; and I shall raise a glass, a spirit for the spirits

.

So lay a crimson rose in the graves of the bravest men, the fallen comrades, the stalwart mercenaries

Those loyal divine battalions who left paradise to purvey zealous souls against obstreperous enemies

Future hope woebegone, and may they rest in peace forevermore, for they have died, yet not completely in vain

I write this final epitaph for my beloved lost children, may their bold hearts ascend back to the kingdom of heaven once again.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry