Tag Archives: live

Allegories in the Curious Case of the Breathless Gentleman

I’ve never so adored you, I’m twisting allegories now
I want to complicate you, don’t let me do this to myself
I’m chasing rollercoasters, I’ve got to have you now
Endless romantic stories, you never could control me…

~*~

Parking lots crumbling against an apartment of beige

In a wasteland of boys and girls, this will be my stage

I’d pull you a mouldy leather chair, or do that yourself

Screaming for hotels to keep the change wouldn’t help

.

There’s no control to be gestured in graceless romance

I’ll tip my hat at your beauty, give the bellboy a chance

There’s a luxurious room that’s reserved for two bodies

Over silken blankets ma cherie, let’s amuse the vagaries

.

Adrenaline shot like cocaine hearts of a powdered nose

Abandonment issues left me but it never felt more close

It’s nothing but anger dripped in crystalline-frosty blood

What makes you think you can seduce the angels of God?

.

The tightrope you used as floss, it snapped in your fangs

And I’m the funambulist that falls away as you have sang

Hiding all the abraded blisters from holding butane knives

For you I’ll devour inedible love, I’ll find the sharpest lives

.

Falling asleep on saline soldiers and flying sordid strangers

Your neck is getting bruised but you love imminent danger

If we wake up at all, I will look for a way to cancel your luck

But if the bullets still pierce you, I’ll yell out harsh, oh fuck

.

I was never quite crass, but this disease makes me so reckless

You’re stepping on my tailcoat, don’t worry about it, princess

I always adored your stories weaved on your lace web gown

The way your blonde hair billows back, shatters your crown

.

Here we are now, crashing and colliding in orbits saturnine

I’m burning cold, and you’re deathly hot, but we will be fine

I’m such a sucker for the rain and each of its mercurial pains

Hell and if I pull the trigger, now, what will be there to gain?

.

So I’ll dance in my boundaries and I’ll stay on the thin lines

If my arms don’t cry again, then I’ll take that as a good sign

For a sunset I chased and the chimera monsters not allowed

As the sky’s pulling me back for the nightmares I said aloud

.

Help me say goodbye, it’s the curdled poison in my delegation

Like contempt on champagne glasses and dwindling devotion

But don’t miss me too soon, have no fear, shed no wasted tears

I was never too charming, but in my wake I’ll be regally austere

.

So inhale infinity deeply and suffocate sanctity on an obscene eternity

Shame you have no shame, my beheaded queen don’t lose equanimity

I won’t be here in a year anyway, so you and I have got the most to live

I’ll provide you half of my oxygen, love, so you won’t be able to breathe.

~*~

Well I really never thought that you’d come tonight
While the crown hangs heavy on either side
Give me one last kiss while we’re far too young to die
(Far too young to die) Far too young to die…

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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 fa├žade, 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.

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The Break-in

The bandit

Sneaks within

Your heart,

Steals everything

That’s yours

And all you love,

Leaves your

Soul in a

Ransacked

Chaos,

And worst of all,

He lets you

Live.

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Thanatos

If living is pure bliss

And paradise is but a distant dream

If dying means afterlife

Or eternal rest, perhaps reincarnating

.

Well I would rather be sad and woeful

And I will induce an everlasting coma

If I were given the chance to live again

Then I would rather accept euthanasia.

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Filed under Poetry