Tag Archives: home

high beams

the traffic lights

look far different

.

when i walk alone

a tempting waltz

.

dandelions burn

beneath my knees

.

and the crosswalk

blurs my eyesight

.

heading back home to

where grief tastes okay

.

but if the sunset asked

me to leave with it now

.

to paint my hands with

orange and abendrot

.

like stars and headlamps

shimmering before me

.

and all the colours i lost

in my travels around town

.

would i answer quickly

would i simply tell it yes?

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Okinawa (Taking The Long Way Home)

Hopeless; soft sigh of my shamelessness

Almost anechoic now, rather hurting your

Perfect prelude as you cross nocturnes into

Plaques of deception, I crave the vicious way

You crept under my closed eyelids and let my

.

Bloodstream clog up with letters of your name

Infected and depleted, frantic and lovesick like

Redbones and restless sentiments as I befall back

To the insomniac midnight runs that broke in my

Head like it was just another swollen, gaping scab

Daring me to pick at it, to pick it up, to pick you out

And spill my thoughts all over the ceiling’s leaky holes

Yes, you are and will be the only one, begotten wonderer

.

Arrogances forsaken—! I vehemently collide directly into

Never, never again, never yours, never there, never more

Distal anoxia, stiffly reaching out, these hands—fractured

Your staccato rings out to alarm the wolves, for I am to your

.

Carrion as you are to my crudely-preserved trophy head displayed

Iridescent phantom may you be yet afterlife barely transpired, just a

Zeitgeist fleeing the tides under the midst of November’s temper bloom

Enamoured harshly to your facsimiles and facades and fastidious blues

Keeping worn-down stars in my pocket for another year lost again to you.

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Still. Alive.

We are made of confused atoms and endless fathoms

And falling in love, in the wrong place at the wrong time

Chasing cigarettes on sixth street astride a flock of pigeons

On a sombre wedding day, runaway like the cotton-lily bride

But her wrists are coated with bright red lipstick she wiped off

After she found out that happily ever after didn’t really exist, train

Dragging along the sidewalk, scraped skateboards and wet chalk

And grinding teeth and damp laundry scattered by grumpy landlords

Perfect enemies knocking down old drywall while the rats complain

And the best friend you haven’t talked to in decades just showed up

At your doorstep dead 2 AM, mostly drunk sometimes troubled to crash

In your couch, grin that familiar grin and ask you how you’re doing

Pretend that the medication in the bathroom cabinet’s only Ambien

And quietly sneak out the morning barelaced and shamefaced so

You’re all alone again, tapping to the faded songs you never recorded

Right by the dusty windowsill as elusive spiders build their homes in

The flat you can’t quite call your home, haunted by strangers’ past bodies

And his awful-scented aftershave of coriander that seems to linger forever

And an uprising in every locked closet hiding identities and mothballs and

Childhood VHS tapes and taped-up mystery boxes containing what might

Just be forgotten yellowing letters and cheesy postcards from every state, or

The very key to unlocking the ultimate truth of the entire universe itself…

But we’re all too busy losing our phases and being torn back to ashes to ever find out.

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Solus

i miss the solitude of comfort

the breathless etudes that waltzed

around my bruised wrists and

made me think of distal vagaries—

beyond the thought of epiphany

none so vague, fallen anechoic sigh

brackish, your ocean salt, i elude

without objection, spinning starlings

and maxims that barely touched

the very tip of your aquiline outlines

nostalgia for months long passed

though, it seems centuries, impaling

my wit’s ends and ensconcing me

in linen funeral wear; wary sunshine

stains the blinds as my lungs take

a convulsive hiatus, scheming against

better company, scant afterglows

and that abstract sensation of leaving

the confines of my home after all

the stars had long burned out and the

city has long moved away from me,

from beckoning me, call my siren song

my swan song, epoch of resolution…

breathing, i miss the comfort of solitude.

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Hierarchical Absolution

Just get me out of this damned place

Where the thieves and parasites all replace

The sanity and morals’ common sense

And jesters jeer at their own complacence

.

Where money doesn’t simply talk, but instead

It fucks with pleasant tongues and leaves them dead

And the messy viscera of every carved-out pawn

Is strewn to hide the sheer filth of pride overgrown

.

Expected to stand up and expected to bleed

Displayed high on the shelves like a trophy kid

Make them all happy, at the cost of your own

Suck up the complaints right down to the bone

.

And I just can’t run away from this cultural poison

Finding heaven in suicide and hell right back home

Please get me out before the familiar slaves drag me back

To a place where I’ll be forced to toil until I self-destruct.

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Cityscape

“You take delight not in a city’s seven or seventy wonders, but in the answer it gives to a question of yours.” –Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities


cities crawl with small plastic cars

and termites heading home after a long day

nevermores cast off to sycamore roots

with the darling of knowing nothing else

only the headlights in front of them

transient light guiding wornout concrete

in this merciless grid stuffed with shadows

they crawl without knowing why

and the city skin is beginning to itch

with the burden of perhaps one too many

small feet pitter pattering on their veins

right into the chambers of an ancient heart

that’s starting to slow down

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intricate

You misunderstood the gravity
As the weight falls apart
You’ll watch me walk away
I walk away, calm as the wind
You’ll watch me go…

~*~

you’ll keep

me broken

hold notches

in my bones

.

leaving me

black and blue

before then i’d

call you home

.

lips red on a

blunt head

brimmed with

singularity

.

shed cold light

on unmade beds

didn’t know this

would unmake me.

~*~

I’m here tonight
Underneath the influence
And why can’t I find a way out?
It’s calling me tonight
This secret I have become
At the edge of the earth…

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…and skyward, to come home.

save my

sensibility

the wrongness

of being right,

ludicrous—

mothballs taper

off to fixtures

on the wall;

your portraits

five. nine. nine.

not knowing

the date and place

but persisting to

hitch a hearse

for the winners

and you sleep

and you slept…

cheek to the gutters

like rainwater and

dry ice melting

but the puddles are

still far too cold

to be touched

with bare hands

.

your malevolence

my destiny

a love, chased

down with laudanum

and bitter spirits

starving for fire

not mine, no—

but angels won’t

exist just to see us

fall away and die,

and if i do so

let it be beside you

and these memories

of springtime

and soft sadness

discoloured fingernails

pointing to the sun

sending wishes

holding on tightly

never there?

never where—

not the awful thought

of losing you out

to another bore

.

when i’ve got

good stories to tell

and a bad heart

to prove innocent

hear me out, please

your music speaks

in earthquakes

and perfect fifths

though abstract

the ends may seem

myopic gaze

did you lose sight?

so save my sorry

humanity and

your flesh betwixt

mine again

for countdowns

don’t matter if

time doesn’t

make amends, when

you’ll be just fine

i know—but then

what am i?

what am i now?

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Fill The Void

Started with a little bit
Now I don’t know how to quit
Always feel inadequate
Same way that my daddy did
Mama told me not to try
And I should have taken her advice
And now I’m all twisted
When it’s all gone, I miss it…

~*~

I’ll delude myself with one more week

As if that would make any difference

Feel the rush of false accomplishment

Before the eleventh hour wears it off

.

Control drags furious scars down my limbs

Daring to tear past my cracked pretence

But I just want it to take me by the hand now

And lead me towards that pre-dug grave

.

For a minute of rest, I’ll shut myself

Close my lost eyes and simply throw it all away

The key, the lock, what I’ve worked for

That pointless persistence only fools dream of

.

When the spinning cycle makes me too dizzy

And my dragged footsteps are going nowhere

It’s much better off to be prepared for the worst

I apologise, it’s okay—I’ll be going home soon

.

Because this is always all the same, over and over

I’m tired of being tired, and I’m tired of being me

Distracting myself just so I could make it out alive

When I know there’s nothing left, so why should I be sorry?

~*~

I’ll fight just to do something
I’ll fight ’cause I got nothing
Else that gets me through the day
Till I find another way
I’ll fight just to do something
I’ll fight ’cause I got nothing
Even if I lose again, I can’t quit…

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