Tag Archives: judge

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?

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

I personally prefer bleach to whiskey or wine.

“And do you really trust your tongue or did you bury the taste?
And is this fantasy real, or is it all home-made?”

~*~

And they don’t know

how many times

i hated myself over

the colour of my eyes

l a c k u s t re

g l o s s e d – o v e r

d u l l e d

by a ton of medications

that i take ironically

to bring a blush into my cheeks

some shade into my flesh

and yet the pastel pink

is far too bright

like it’s drawn on with a crayon

by a colourblind child

but no matter what i take

my blood remains the same hue

diluted into a disgusting

watercolour painting

and i have to create artworks with it

every time i cough

and every time i can’t go to sleep

they all say it’s

d i s g u s t i n g

s e l f i s h

a l m o s t  i n h u m a n

and i know, believe me

i know it better than anyone else

you don’t have to tell me again

the voices in my head

do a better job of telling me

but with every decrepit strand of hair

that falls off my deforested scalp

is another count of another hour

no—another minute

that i continue to waste oxygen

in this faultless fucking world

so i knock back my codeine

and i slowly close the

flickering bathroom lights

avoiding my pale judging gaze

on the toothpaste-stained mirror

as i leave to

continue existing in

w o r t h l e s s

f u t i l e

e n d l e s s  c y c l e s

of this monochrome facsimile

drinking it all in

and hating myself again

over the colour of my eyes,

how it doesn’t have any.

i don’t want to live anymore

and yet i simply hate myself far too much

to even attempt to end my misery

and so it goes.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Kiss and Tell

A hundred boys and girls

On my fucking list

From the start of A to zed

I’ll tell before I kiss

Every visage a motivation

Blue eyes don’t lie

So judge me for doing shit

I take so I don’t die

I’m proud of these people

Ain’t nothing wrong

And I’ll just block you out

With calming songs

A hundred girls and boys

I adore and respect

But I’m the whore, right?

Fucking deal with it.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

metal & skin (x.)

hide, hide, hide it all

stow your lighter in your wallet

hide hide, hide it all

keep your razors in your pocket

hide, hide, hide it all

from superficial judgmental eyes

hide, hide, hide it all

cover your scars and play fucking nice.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

sovereign self

if you’re here

to tell me off

about the shit

i do, the way i

dress up, and

how i do my hair,

well darling, i’m

here to tell you

that i simply

just don’t care.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

A Song of Silence

An individual voice cannot account for the million

The tongue and ear melding into static blur fusion

Daggers of eyes blot blood with my crashing heart

If I didn’t find my flatline sound, it will never restart

A tremble in the treble, torque to signify the trouble

For the bastards that judge, the turkeys that gobble

If I were a little more brave, I would’ve fled the scene

But hell, this coward side of me wouldn’t mind it again.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

[M]/s/[I]/m/[R]/o/[R]/k/[O]/e/[R]

I didn’t want to

Break this fine illusion

But the fumes

Choked me for sedition

I hid behind the

Smooth panel of derision

Hoping you will

Not see past the distortion

But their cracks

Gained speedy equilibrium

And spread on

Veins and webs of summum

Tinkling of glass

Shards of a funhouse mirror

And your initial

Perceptions of me, it shatters.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

See Jane

Jane was taught many things throughout the course of her life. Jane was taught to be a good girl to mummy and daddy. Jane was taught to say her prayers and obey what she was told to do. Jane was taught to clean herself up and clean up after herself. Jane was taught to do her straight auburn hair up in ribbons and pigtails, polish her red maryjane shoes into a dazzling shine, and wear her best cotton pastel dresses. Jane was taught to walk with proper posture, smile gracefully, speak in a soft feminine voice, and to go about with tasks in an elegant finesse. Jane was taught to learn her academic lessons well at the private all-girls catholic school she was attending, and as well as her weekly lessons about faith and God at Sunday class in the town church. Jane was taught not to play too roughly, never to join the bad flock of black sheep, and to generally stay out of trouble. Jane was taught to be polite, friendly, amiable, and to be approachable and presentable. Simply put, Jane was trained to be a perfect girl, and she was taught to love it.

What was wrong with Jane?

Jane was the epitome of nice. Jane was the classic textbook example of the girl next door; charming, demure, a bonny maiden with a beautiful appearance and personality, living a scripted, sterile, storybook suburban life. Jane was a starchild, excelling in everything and anything, always at her best. Jane was sociable, had lots of friends and could easily make new acquaintances. In the morning, among the company of people, she was quite pleasant, a darling sweetheart in the glossed-over, uncrutinising eyes of the faceless neighbours. See Jane greet. See Jane traipse. See Jane dance. See Jane laugh. See Jane wave. See Jane smile. See Jane happy. But alas, that was the full extent of their limited perception. To them, Jane could be summed up in positive words less than three syllables long. They could never see the actual Jane, dark and complicated. They couldn’t glare past the cracks of the well-practised façade, and take a gander at the real version that’s not made of plastic skin and porcelain eyes, refusing to see the truth of the perfect girl that barely sleeps at night. See Jane depressed. See Jane grit her teeth. See Jane scream. See Jane self-harm. See Jane feel empty. See Jane strut mechanically. See Jane do drugs. See Jane muffle her crying on her pillow. See Jane as a complete fucking mess.

What was wrong with Jane?

Jane was taught many things in the course of her short life. Be this, be that, don’t do this, don’t do that, Jane never learned to think for herself. Simply put, Jane was brainwashed to be the perfect girl, and she absolutely hated it. In the end, it was not Jane with the fault, she was only the innocent victim. Rather, it was her guardians, her teachers, who missed a crucial lesson that might have saved Jane from self destruction. For Jane was only taught to exist, but she was never taught to live. Teeming alongside the controversy now, the very same life enveloping death that the multitudinous attendees are currently buzzing with. The haughty crowd, all clad in black garb, then proceeds to judge Jane with whispered huffs, gossiping under thin walls and blabbering behind paper fans hatefully, shaking their heads condescendingly with a chorus of tsk-tsk’s, saying stories and telling tall tales about how Jane was such an amazing girl, it’s such a waste Jane had to go this way, Jane always seemed cheerful and no one ever saw it coming, I remember that one time Jane…, Jane will be missed, nothing but senseless argot and unapologetic bereavement. Today, everyone mourned. But today, everyone also saw an accurate glimpse of Jane for the first time, and unfortunately, for the very last.

See Jane die.

Leave a comment

Filed under Prose

The Conviction of the Moon

Those firmament tears were amber

As it crystallised in its fragile grasp

The stars witnessed that November

How the sun drowned with no gasp

.

The crowns of their empire shatters

The stars beseeched their trial runs

Jury of the solar system in smatters

Proclaim against that deathless sun

.

The court adjourned and it abjured

In flagrante delicto, they were sure

They have a case against the moon

Ex gratia, a saturnine arcane gloom

.

Order! Objection! A recess! I’ll hear!

Oyez oyez taken to deaf stone ears

As the crowd accused, opinions nil

Sneered at the convicted, little thrill

.

Reconvene the order of the audience

I repeat, the moon said, gall cadence

This is a bum rap, I divorced the sun

I’ll appeal, you’ve got the wrong man

.

The opposing side argued to the end

We lost our lights, a beloved friend!

I’ve no time for liars, I declared war

When you killed off a beautiful star

.

Both sides were taut, horizons grey

It seemed they will not finish today

Yet the murder weapon is procured

Lunacy, a sickness from lunar word

.

The gavel slammed the wooden slab

Ringing in that silent courtroom hub

I thereby sentence you to your exile

From the milky way, until you defile.

.

The moon, taking its fate, left home

Before he stepped down, his lesson

Caught smug mouths of the rallying

The stars cried, their planets glaring

.

I loved the sun dear, she was my own

Yet I was blinded by a foolish weapon

As asteroids rain, I will refuse a nudge

I shall let the universe be my only judge.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Prima Donna

Oh, smile for me, won’t you?

The crowds are deliberating

Of playact’s bona fide truth

Stagehands contemplating

The understudy walked out

From such realistic tragedy

There’s no one replacing all

From this ludicrous comedy

The curtain falls a long way

But the night is far from over

Read your lines, memorising

You’ll have time to be sober

An applause frozen in midair

As your mask slipped a while

Ah, they’re still watching, love

So why don’t you just smile?

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry