Tag Archives: last

It All Falls Apart

I wish I could, but I don’t always
Keep the promises I’ve kept
I wish I could, but I can’t always
Give whatever I have left
And now it’s all so clear, doesn’t anyone
See what’s happening here?

~*~

Put me back together, just another plea unheard

Walking away from tragedy, walking with the truth

For elastic tongues can deceive us no longer

Collapsing narcolepsy is a premise for the fervour

.

Time had a deadline, and we’re not built to last

Every time I look back is just a bullet from the past

Reminded of the way it was before the war began

And ended with waste and sorrow, and a broken man

.

The space, the divide, the disconnected furrows

This time as we fired the shots, we made sure to be thorough

Didn’t give me a choice, just a white flag to surrender

Shouting seventh chances from another graceless pretender

.

What could I have done? What would you choose?

I was so ready to give it up, though I didn’t want to lose

What was there to take? Was there anything to fix?

I was paying for my dirty crime with capricious tricks

.

Everything I am, reduced now to what I once was

Blood on my words and on my hands, unremarkable and crass

What can’t be forgiven now lays in a grave so shallow

Who knew that when everything falls apart, it leaves a scar so hollow.

~*~

It falls apart form the very start, it falls apart
Seems like everything I touch falls apart
Everything around me falls apart
When I walk away from you…

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The Marionette’s March

Don’t look back on the patience you lost

The blood that’s been wasted, the casualties cost

A strange voice that hides the bad intentions

Though not yours to atone, suffer in perdition

.

Back and forth, the confused marionette swings

Keys of haunted reveries a rusty music box sings

Conviction relinquished to the uproarious applause

What’s yours will be mine, and sever all the loss

.

And I believe that your hands clap for a reason

Just as why thieves walk free and lambs go to prison

If death was a game, then the dice has been cast

Only those caught in the thorns of the throne shall last

.

We move on, we move on, what’s a clock without the ticks?

To warn of oncoming reparations, sounds rather cryptic

Follow the trail of sunshine as it stammers and falters feeble

Heads and tails decision, let the coin land in the middle

.

And if the theatre lights shut down in this city’s comatose

Bow deep and lay upon your mausoleum a dusty merlot rose

Thus holding only the patience that was once yours to have

Now forsaken and lost like a demon in an ocean of gods.

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Mysteries

For this simple world

Was never meant for

One as intricate as you

You may have left them

One last puzzle to solve

But they never had a clue.

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We Will Detonate

I chipped the final remaining cyan pieces of you off my skin

Nostalgia turned to bad memories, and misadventures to sin

Aeonian melancholy isn’t worth the more bittersweet repasts

From that moment stars were erudite, it wasn’t meant to last

Maybe it’d be better for us if I didn’t manoeuvre to intervene

And I let the watch tick counterclockwise, I would never win

In the end, there is no ending, only the beginning of the start

Of the countdown of the detonation that would tear us apart.

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A Trainwreck of Thoughts

My heart is pounding fast, I’m out of gas, it never lasts

Serotonin, oxytocin, we’re built for sins and late for mass

Chemical, mechanical faces, daily races underwater

Looking for god in cabarets and never searching for answers

Am I your jester? Will I entertain her? Is the sense in making sense

For a semblance of humanity, insanity, neuropathy

Endowed in chronic migraines and under castigated lies?

Uncertainties play like a chess piece, checkmate, check please

Asking the waiter for the receipt, but he never comes

It’s sympathetic…pathetic, isn’t it?

The empathy that curls and coils and churns in my esophagus

Screaming until my lungs are bruised, traumatic pain, dramatic recluse

In the throes of a black rose, petals falling in a final calling

For the tears in tantrum storming, where are we now?

Somehow…it never changes, the change rattling ranges in our pockets

Never mean a thing, but there’s a hole in your pants

And your nickels are clattering in your mind; never mind

The respect, don’t expect, crestfallen and swollen eyes, do it thrice

Without fail, without avail, without much ado about the gale

They say love was just a tale written in thorns and photographs,

Polaroids and tongues so crass, washing away the blood on our hands

Burying the body but never saying sorry, you’ll never bury the past!

Here I stand. My heart is pounding fast, I’m out of spare tires and gas

Waiting for the moment to last, waiting for the end to finish the past

Will this sempiternity ever end? Will the medication finally bend?

Will this recluse find the chaos amid the calm, will I take on such a task?

My heart slows down, and I’m waiting silently yet patiently for you to ask,

But you never show your cards, and again…I relapse.

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stress

breathe easy;

the worst

has passed

just stick it out

maybe this

time you’ll last.

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The Waltz of the Mercury Brides and Cyanide Grooms

The mercury brides dance, gliding upon the hardwood ballroom

Their billowing ruffled gowns fluttering soft, like paraffin wings

Attached to surreptitious sensibilities, quite devilish to the touch

And solemn eyes vigil behind an iridescent veil, languidly hiding

.

Lithe spines bending like black dahlias caught in a hurricane’s breeze

Elegant silken regalia classic cascading, colliding with haunting music

Four by four rhythm hypnotising, alluring deep with symphonic spells

Ladies spun around like barefoot ballerina dolls, rendered quite static

.

The instrumental calls for one brief yet somnolent interlude circulating

As bare puppets and painted marionettes adjust their entangled strings

Sips of blood-red wine are taken and bubbly champagne denied politely

As the crestfallen tones reignite into an opera allegro of soprano valkyrie

.

The idling midnight scene is palpably vivacious and ebullient once more

And porcelain hands are pulled to join the remorseless energy of the beat

Lively cheers punctuating each syllable striking of the commanding violin

Shoulders grazing faintly as harmonious bodies serenade moonlight sweet

.

The cyanide grooms cease to a slowing halt, as ritardando replaces cantabile

Waistcoats nearly strewn away; neckties, gloves, partners, barely hanging on

Disguises are scorned and pasquinade masks are removed to reveal the truth

Finally, the last of the party dissipates along with the nascent coda of the song.

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The Last Young Renegade

Long live the reckless and the brave
I don’t think I want to be saved
My song has not been sung
And long live the fast times, so come what may
I don’t think that I’ll ever be saved, I know
Our song has not been sung, long live us…

~*~

The first time strikes

Like a fatal blow

As the anarchic trite

Is a puerile glow

Passing fickle crimes

Consenting none

Pioneers of renegade

Bring out the sun

Youth and the world

War of a reckless

Glamour and talking

In tongue feckless

Long live brave fools

Mayday, they say

Profound, old school

Friction burn day

Trapped in suburbia

Caught on tarmac

Trainers worn-down

And hoodies black

The nights to arrange

Fast times dignity

Run out from normal

And old modesty

Tread black-top lines

Of spastic change

Spontaneous fervour

Could be arranged

But if rebels surmount

Punctual refugees

Restrained and recede

Scant probabilities

An unforgiving planet

Looks are deceiving

They’ll take the crown

But you’re winning

And the last time strikes

Descending in storms

And this juvenile chaos

Is worth fighting for.

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★ 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.

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

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M O N S T E R × r e t s n o m

Turn away
If you could get me a drink of water
‘Cause my lips are chapped and faded
Call my Aunt Marie
Help her gather all my things
And bury me in all my favourite colours…

~*~

V.) MEDICINE × enicidem

Lying in limpid stasis, comatosed on a cold hospital gurney

As the sterile figures are wheeling me in, onto my last journey

Doctors with white angel wings, armed with swords of scalpel

Slashing away at the indomitable monster my body hid so well

.

Blast liquid radiation, intakes of chemo, concentrated vials

Dialysis emptying my veins, and attempting useless trials

A diagnosed creature transforming, stage 4 metastasised

As everyone glances at me sadly with glossy pitying eyes

.

So take away all the coloured calendars and the clocks that mockingly tick

Counting the seconds, hours, moments, all the years that I can never keep

Turn off the machines, disconnect my wires, I won’t be needing any longer

I’m ready to accept my ultimate fate, for I know now that I will be stronger

.

X.) MEMORY × yromem

Reminiscing our faded memoirs, on a dessicating ancient diary

Writ in intervals of ink, blood, love, our accrued stolen memories

Spending afternoons in the butterfly garden, tales of you and me

Living out with childish mirth, our own secret Mary Lennox fantasy

.

Writing out last wills and trembling letters of false painful assurance

To uncle John and Aunt Mary, to all my relatives first and secondary

I’ll miss you, loved ones, but you’ll forget me once you collect insurance

Keep my soul in your thoughts as you enjoy my unexperienced itinerary

.

Pack away all my things, store my belongings in a strong mulberry box

Those framed photos of mine on the mantelpiece, carefree and relaxed

Their quaint presents, trinkets, clover leaves, constellations for good luck

Keep them now carefully, for I won’t be needing any of them all that much

.

L.) MOURN × nruom

Make my image come to life again, make me beautiful, Mr. Mortician

Powder my gaunt, pallid complexion, make it a flourishing pink and fair

Dress me up in your finest silk and cotton habiliments, Mr. Mortician

And try to save what little you can from my raining withered haybale hair

.

Carry away my coffin into a cathedral solemnly, be bereft and lament me

Let the choir boys sing a melancholy requiem for the girl I’ll never marry

Rain down the roses, parting crowds like Moses, drowning on a red sea

Etch an epitaph on my tombstone, a final word of William Blake’s literary

.

Proclaim all the good things I’ve done right with my scanty epoch life

In my sepulchre, chisel my marble memorial with a dulled rusty knife

Hate me and berate me as you cremate me, a final prayer for your loss

A light drizzle of ashfall, leave me now in peace, to be buried, to repose

.

C.) MORTALITY × ytilatrom

Remember me, remember my name

Don’t you forget our whimsical days

Perhaps I’ll find a better home

In a field of crumbling gravestones

So goodnight for now, my dear

Don’t you cry such wasted tears

Maybe someday I’ll be back here

Smiling, none the worse for wear

.

Remember me, remember my pain

Don’t you forget me, lest I fade away

Perhaps there’s a blissful heaven

When the pendulum strikes eleven

So goodnight for now, my dear

This is goodbye for now, I fear

‘Cause this is when I disappear

Promise me someday you’ll meet me there.

~*~

My sisters and my brothers, still I will not kiss you
‘Cause the hardest part of this is leaving you…

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