Tag Archives: inspiration

siren song

if the pain

is a sound

it will be

like music

to my ears.

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Throwing Cheap Bouquets by Juliet’s Balcony Stage

Please won’t you push me for the last time
Let’s scream until there’s nothing left
So sick of playing, I don’t want to anymore!
The thought of you’s no fucking fun
You want a martyr, I’ll be one
Because enough’s enough, we’re done!

~*~

Abandoned brains dripping on the cold spiral staircase

My crumpled train station tickets wiped them all away

The nights were as sober as 5 AM Jack on the rocks

Reset reverse repose and smash a hammer on the clock

.

You’re like a spoke in my heart, like nails through my teeth

Let’s slow down the sound of pain, ’cause you taste so sweet

I’m like the chlorine in your skin, like the poison in your cure

Maybe I’ll inject the moonshine once again just to be sure

.

You’ll never see my face in the movies as you always should

But babe it’s tough to dwell on the surface of Hollywood

Endgame of a bloodless artery, and I’m the rebel subsidiary

I’m the heart attack in your nightmares until you wake me

.

Am I confusing? Or complex? Am I the nuclear home you wrecked?

Are you the cannonball that hurtled past and broke clean my neck?

Breaths frosting over glass like a harsh blizzard in the winter

If I’m the martyr dying on a cross, then maybe you’re the sinner

.

You mixed suicide in my bloody scotch and you left me to rot

If I’m jumping off the bridge, then you’re my second thoughts

You’re the puppy crush love and I’m the old dog you put down

You hanged me by my collar in the gallows with a silent frown

.

We were screaming at each other in the most perfect harmony

If you were crying or laughing at the end of the line, I can’t see

You dosed my soul with whiskey and you sang a metal lullaby

And when I passed out from the hate, you crept out, no goodbye

.

So listen, wake the fuck up! Who the hell are you to die on me?

If you’re searching for some peace eternal, then I guess I’m sorry

I wrote your name on my mutated wrists with a blunt safety pin

And the scars on my lips won’t fade away anytime soon, darling

.

So don’t you go away now! Who the fuck are you to fall apart on me?

The razor blades in my throat won’t be swallowed with your fake sorry

This turbulent liquid passion made us crash on the tides and capsize

But if there’s a heaven waiting baby, then it won’t have a place for your lies—!

~*~

You told me think about it, well I did
And I don’t wanna feel a thing anymore
I’m tired of begging for the things that I want
I’m over sleeping like a dog on the floor
Imagine living like a king someday
A single night without a ghost in the walls
We are the shadows screaming take us now
We’d rather die than live to rest on the ground!
Shit.

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Hearts on a Pendulum

~*~

DON’T RUIN A PERFECT THING

American nightmares

Counted on the blue moon

I’d leap across Atlantic

But darling, that’s too soon.

~*~

JUMP IN THE FIRE (IF IT BURNS YOU)

Spitting flames in the dark

They thought it would play

Yet those puissant sparks

Kissed back the waterway.

~*~

TRUE LOVE COMES FROM MORE THAN JUST THE HEART

A tactile tongue on necklaces

Illumined on equivocal jewels

Red rose by your grave traces

I shall return the favour in hell.

~*~

A KISS LIKE A FIRE ON PAVEMENT

Loathing has that succinct taste

Of compound ammonia valerate

You seem to love this acidic lick

Burning holes in your bloody lips.

~*~

A HAMMER THROUGH MY TEETH

I’m onerous, am I not?

A talented conniving old miser

I’m adroit, am I not?

A charming multifaceted lover.

~*~

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Floral & Florescence

if i were in

a garden;

in a vast

luxuriant field

resplendent,

efflorescent,

an explosion

of chromaticity,

and blooming

with all the

species of

domestic

flowers and

wild exotic

blossoms in

the whole world,

i’d still pick

you and your

wilting petals

over everything else.

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Southwestern Rose

Journeys on your ebony car

Energy of a million fair stars

Neverland awaits Peter Pan

Spirited Texas boy, have fun

Ebullient in bowlegged steps

Nexus of freckled smiley lips

Aspirations, within you it lies

Cherry soul and emerald eyes

Kindness of vivace perception

Love of life, ardent inspirations

Ever young at heart, Texas boy

Sage as you bring hope and joy.

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Eventide Theatrics

When my lines are empty

Scribbled with nil galaxy

Stolen negative energies

I reach to the sky, simply

Catch the shooting stars

Falling from your eyelids

Phosphoresce filling the

Cavities, of mine decrepit

Inkstained quills; and the

Glowing words resonating

Occupy parchment lacuna

Which I bled from my fate,

From your diamond tears

That you softly rain away

For me, illuming my fears

As planets begin a’ dancing

You convalesce, smile away

Reposing on clouds of icing

On a soporific midnight play.

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Just A Twinge Of Cosmic Angst: A Sestina

I sit taciturn and wondering, waiting for the universe

to take my shaking hand into her further infinity.

I see the connected constellations, ostentatious

as they are, splashes and arcs of light tessellating

into the galaxy’s tender motion and sleepy staccato,

Falling fast within this midnight sky so consummate.

.

Now I won’t admit into being also consummate,

Not in the physique of this elegant universe.

My body is made of mere stardust staccato

ravelling tightly into a quite beautiful infinity.

Yet I shall admit defeat unto death, tessellating

into a parasitic decay non so ostentatious.

.

We all wish to enter the gates of Heaven, ostentatious

as humans get. We are quite passionate and consummate

with our concepts arranged into a stained-glass tessellation,

Ignoring still the vast reaches withheld in the universe

and thinking that this small orbit of ours is all that’s infinity,

Earning us a mindset of broken glass and fragmented staccato.

.

Truly, our planet is a zealous one, of cobalt and viridian tessellation,

Pieced together, and yet barely holding on, our divinity ostentatious.

Our sea levels and stretched firmament seem to reach infinity

up to our all-knowing Mother, her opalescent gown consummate,

But then again, she is just another dress in this party of the universe

Her descrying jade heart pulsating and flatlining into faintest staccato.

.

And materialistic, we resolutely remain, technology tessellating,

Preaching with arguing high voices, radioing into noisy black staccato.

Pray must we, for help. Ask forgiveness to the spinning universe

for we have been too indulged getting severely pompously ostentatious.

And soon, no longer will she ever care, for she is a goddess consummate

with her rarities. A powerful chromatic angel donning white wings of infinity.

.

We drown all our self-abnegation in a shallow turbid pool of falsified infinity,

But look up to the astral skies, you fools, and see the stars’ bright tessellation!

We can nevermore achieve the paramount gracefulness of being consummate,

for we are mere scintilla specks floating in space. Barely even a borrowed staccato

that’s vainglorious, ruffling our colourful feathers. Now cease ostentation,

Breathe in the sun…do you feel that slightest twinge of cosmic angst from the universe?

.

I whisper but echoing souls, cut into philosophical tessellation, and cast into evaporation. I might as well be speaking staccato,

but the patient universe hears my every cry, and gifts me some of her onyx satin habiliment. I accept humbly, non ostentatiously

so I see clearly finally. Wherefore must we humans be so dragged into consummate? This life is not a question of perfection, but rather, what we choose to do with our own infinity.

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Uninspired.

It hurts;

Not knowing what to say

And being at a loss for words

Leaving your mouth hanging open

At a time when you needed your voice the most

All your thoughts slowly slipping away from you

Like fine sand sifting away from your fingers

Years seemingly run away, it’s true

In your tongue, the unspoken lingers

While you stand there, mouthing undecipherable words

Until your mind’s rendered completely empty

And you’re left there standing alone, feeling heavy.


It hurts;

Not knowing how to say something

And lacking the right words to use

Your best ideas dissipating into thin air, lost

Just when you needed them the most

The words running away from the back of your brain

Diving off at the very tip of your tongue

And your hands fail to move and instead shake badly in pain

Writing nonexistent words

Until your mind overflows with too many thoughts, unkind

And crumbles your peace of mind.


Yes, really;

It hurts so much

It’s the worst kind of pain to us

A pain like no one can ever imagine

Like the taste of the stars fading away from your lips

Like the flame of a candle, flickering, dying bit by bit

Like the darkness consuming you from where you stand

Like the celestial universe being ripped away from your hands

It just feels that terrible, that scary, that bad

And I don’t at all jest

Like emptiness, a hollow feeling in your body and mind

It really hurts to be an uninspired poet.

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