Tag Archives: long

decisions, decisions

let me decide

what’s right

and what’s wrong

you do it so easily

but i won’t take long.

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Overcast

Outside for the first time in a long time
You said you can’t remember what it’s like
To feel more than cold on the inside
But the sunrise will come again and you’ll be just fine…

~*~

It’s been too long

Since I last felt sad

When the pink clouds

Didn’t make me mad

.

It’s been too long

Since I last had a motion

To mess things up

Fall away from the season

.

It’s been too long

Since I last felt the hurt

Sinking deep in my chest

Breaking apart my worth

.

It’s been too long

Since I’m out of style

When the cold was fine

I hung around for a while

.

It’s been too long

Since I shed a real tear

Let myself slide away

Succumbed to my fears

.

It’s been too long

Since I last waited again

For failure to go away

Let the dark into my skin

.

It’s been too long

Since I last saw a daylily bloom

Summer’s just a breath, and I want to stay

But it’s been too long since I last found a reason.

~*~

You are the rustling of leaves
And you are that honeysuckle breeze
You are the sunlight
Shine onto me, shine onto me…

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long nights

Oh, how its raining
Oh, how the water falls
Into the safe things
We tried to set in stone
I can’t replace you
I can’t escape you now…

~*~

it’s gonna be a long night

without your stars to count

this time i wonder if the planet

breathes without a pause of doubt

i wish the ocean was as blue

as your feather words and halo eyes

i close away my mind just to think

there’s no sugar without a hint of spice

but under the bed where flowers bloom

the sour notes never leave your arms

and the nightlight illuminates my dreams

where loving you does me no harm

but i lie to myself as i lie awake

wondering if giving up control was my mistake

ivory piano and sheep lulling desperation

as i await the end of an endless oblivion

i can only wish i didn’t feel this much

as i lay down my thoughts without a sound

and without your skin to be my respite

i know it’s gonna be another long night.

~*~

But I remember the nights when you’d lie with me
Where we’d talk and we’d touch and we’d fall asleep
I wake up in your arms and I’d feel at ease
But now its just me and I lie awake
And I toss and I turn and I see your face
When I wake from a dream it won’t go away…

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for the future hearts

Shake until we move the floor
What are we waiting for? Let’s go
I’m tired of being ordinary
Don’t care if there’s people staring
I’ll rely on your strength to carry me on…

~*~

possibilities

on my side

complexities

once defied

.

jumping off

the rooftop

i’ll fly before

i can ever stop

.

hiding no more

navigating this

communication

into better places

.

move again before

i give in, taking the

long way…i promise

to tomorrow’s today.

~*~

I’m not invisible like you
Next time things get a little messed up
I’ll shine, but I’ll never be see-through
I’m fine just trying to wake the rest up…

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Blood Insurrection: A Nightmare Recollection

Please, don’t take this out on me
‘Cause you’re the only thing that’s keeping me alive
And I don’t wanna wait for the down-set date
Cause I would rather end it all tonight
And if I mean anything to you
I’m sorry, but I’ve made up my mind!

~*~

Last night, I dreamed of you.

I’m haunted by perpetual visions of your flayed skin, your mutilated flesh hanging off your pallid wrists and chest loosely, bloodshot eyes staring at me in a soundless remorseful discourse. Pieces of sempiternal agony peel off your body in shredded sinews and fall intrinsically on the stained floor, crashing in cascades of reverent disdain and charlatan confessions, colliding with concrete, ringing as loud as midnight bells at a funeral, suspended leaks of scarlet contrasting dramatically with your silver ring. Ivory-washed bones prodded itself from out your mangled shoulder blade in painful angles, compassed spine breaking audibly, and your excruciating anguish reverberated throughout the room, suffocating my lungs. You were broken. Injured, damaged and dilapidated at every possible recourse. Was I wrong to think that you looked goddamn beautiful?

Your sepia eyes seemed to suck me in. They hid invisible anathema, as your lightning-stricken lips spoke fervently of an ancient tale, a dawning disambiguation unlike this damned universe has ever strung together. I was overwhelmed by every calculated idea, every lusted bereavement, every betrayed rumination and endowed sensibility that pierced and tortured that exquisitely-lacerated mind of yours, resplendent writings and rancid words accidentally getting caught in the barbed wires of your entangled sable hair and never making it past the graffitied red brick wall, leaving only tattered pieces of a squandered afterthought fluttering like scrap paper or torn body bags, caught up in fences of rusted mesh, languid and waiting patiently to join the rueful waltz of the stubborn wind. Was it my treacherous mistake to try to put them back together, instead of setting them free?

You were screaming. Your swollen metal throat was rising and falling in explosive intonations of imminent detonation and wasteland reveries, sending chills crawling like aggravated insects down my backbone. It was a disastrous sanctuary, your blessed hell perilous below, while heaven enshrouds above us like a stagnant disorientation. Songs of chronic migraines and reconciling nightmares intertwining elaborately made me beg epileptically for more, yet you never surrendered. Your fluid voice appeared to tangibly cut through me like a raging maelstrom of blades and alcohol, each exiling raindrop lethally sharp, stinging, seething, sedating, the striking precipitation more painful than the last. I am admittedly and ashamedly sinful. I have only myself to atone for my scarred mentality. Was I the renegade soldier who pulled the pin from your heart, fettered like a hand grenade between my merciless fingers?

Your calloused hands were bare and flaccid. They held no mellifluous instruments, only dead air and static asthenia. I desperately reached for them, the way I used to reach for unconscious stars but never quite make it past the horizon, yet my trembling nicotine-stained fingertips barely grazed the soles of your feet. Desire intervened with revulsion. Your liquid touch was rueful and bilious, and it clung to my papyrus skin like abrasive brier thorns on a shorn silk wedding dress. Your suspicious tears rose up in suffocating tendrils of pewter smoke, gasoline fluid flirting with pillars of a ravenous fire, and it burned words into my throat that I wouldn’t dare set loose past my tongue. The perdition was adamant and stern, glaring like a shot arrow past and through the ubiquitous veils, slashing horizontal lines and painting calamities all over my past wounds. I’ve fumbled for faith and I lost it. Is there any chance that these cicatrices would fade into discernible reality…is there any hope at all that I would recover at all?

You. You stood there silently in clashing bouts of disenchantment and contrition, staring at me hollowly, frozen in a resolute resignation, overlooking my ruinous devastation like a dystopian entity. I quailed at your omniscient presence as I huddled in cowardice in a corner, failing taciturnly in a blank stupor, vacillating on the verge of an oncoming breakdown. At that moment, time was evasive and irrelevant. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t try to stop me. You never moved. You didn’t merely murmured a sorrowful apology, your soft whisper barely audible against the clamour of the infuriated voices in my head, each interlaced butterfly letter striking me like a full metal jacket bullet and making me drop the blade out of pure shock at the impact; the one I was holding against my pulse so readily, ready to gnash its teeth through my lifeline. Death was kissing my hand flirtatiously, ready to take me in its graceless romance, yet somehow I still drew away unreasonably. My hurtling world is set on a tectonic plate, and it was set to drift apart in a crash collision, yet I’m unable to form undiscovered islands of a new beginning, for my dissolving pangaea is still arbitrarily constricted and tightly tethered to you, veering around your gravity’s reckless orbit. Your vicious disease is my apostle’s remedy, and your existence is a thread strung around my neck, needle embedded in my heart, keeping me hanging on, but barely. I’m shivering madly at your frigid soul. You’re so far away, you’re virtually a parallel dimension, yet you’re only inches away from my stuttering heartbeat. This is…this is arrogant madness. Don’t…please don’t try to save me. Why…why can’t you simply just let me go?

It is morning. I am not yet awake.

~*~

I’ve been having this dream that we can fly
So darling close your eyes
‘Cause you’re about to miss everything!
About to miss everything…

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The Ballad of the Arrogant Hearts

THE BALLAD OF THE ARROGANT HEARTS: VENTRICLE

Prologue Eins:

Tear it down! Break the barricade!
I wanna see what sound it makes
I hate this flavour with a passion
And I fucking hate the aftertaste!
How does it feel? How does it feel?
Well, it feels like I’m on fire!
Wake up, I know you can hear me…

~*~

I.) A Senseless Stardom And A Playwright’s Pain.
.

Bury me by the open venetian windows, where I can visit you every night

You know my anatomy like a circus act, but you turned off the spotlight

My pavement kiss tastes harsh, but the scissors accentuate my sacrifice

You deceive and desecrate me far too often, but shit, I’ll never suffice

.

Pose like a drunk pubescent actress, come on Marilyn, show some emotion

Every boy watching television shall receive your desperate transmissions

A noose of flowers and confection confessions melting on your tongue

Your affections were transgressions, but you’re so pretty when you run

.

I used to write letters and poetry, but now for you, I only write obituaries

Don’t be sorry for little orphan Annie whose cellar is her own sanctuary

I’m a vagabond, you’re a bastard child, we’re a match made in angel hell

Inferno strikes under our tangled veins and the paradise the demon sells

.

You were memorising phone numbers like it’s the digits on my credit card

If there was a prize for a comely crass drama queen, you’ll win that award

Ignorance might be your best friend, but I’ve been dating her for ten long years

It’s a violent explosion of distractions and disappointment in second gear

.

As they all say, fuck the love, we’re in this game for the fame and money

Toasting our dead hearts with cocaine and expired 20 dollar champagne

I’ll scream for help, sabotage! Please don’t murder me with pleurisy baby!

And if I cry in my sleep, then you will know that I’m still dancing from pain…

—————————————

-i-n-t-e-r-m-i-s-s-i-o-n-

—————————————

THE BALLAD OF THE ARROGANT HEARTS: AORTA

Prologue Zwei:

Make me a promise here tonight!
Love like a tidal wave
Dreamless in early graves
I never want it to be this way
The chemicals will bring you home again
This is it, when it’s done, we can say that
When it’s sudden death we fight back!

~*~

II.) Confessions Of A Mad Stranger To An Inebriated Lover.

I confess by the altar, this is my last testament and surrendering admonition

Two souls like an orchestra, and I’ll conduct this symphony of destruction

I’m the only menace to your fugitive life, a key witness and an accomplice

I got scar evidence to lock you behind diamond bars for a million years

.

You said it wasn’t a crime to feel, but the police are banging down my door

I promised I’d be just a little more sorry, but it’s just been a vulture’s chore

This turbulence in New Jersey, this fucking turbulence is beautiful for me

I may be deleterious and despondent, but your Europe eyes are a mystery

.

I can smell clashing bitter bourbon and saccharine chocolate in your breath

You sicken me, but I feel better by shutting the closet doors and drinking late

Towed away in our underwater love, and I’ll be drifting away to abyssal death

But if I escape hell, I’ll sneak back into heaven for free, so don’t close the gate

.

Don’t pay for your blessing, just grind the forest ax and damn, don’t hesitate

The big bad wolf will rend you to shreds if you swing away a second too late

Stuttering from the piercing bullet bites and the blizzard cold on your tattoos

Though I’m taking, I’m taking, I’m f-f-fucking taking back Saturday from you

.

The jagged edges of your dress are wounding me badly as we’re locked in final embrace

Weighed down and singing our tainted names under the concrete rain like a disgrace

I know I’m a stupid motherfucker, thinking that with eternal hate, I’ll never be left alone

But darling, I’ll leave the answering machine on all night, in case you decide to come home.

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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.

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The Calumniation of John Smith and Jane Doe

Let me tell you a story about a boy and a girl
A very different version than you’ve ever heard
Okay, so I’m lying, but all I’m trying to say
This isn’t about the one that got away…

~*~

Let me tell you a story

Of a boy and a girl

One who killed the sunset

The other’s feet curled

Both watched wretched stars

Crash with meteor showers

They licked nectar of the gods

And elucidated powers

Win the matriarchal anarchy

Of the obstreperous race

And the boy and the girl

Were the mascots and the face

And they chased popularity

Like spiders on a web

And anyone who gets caught

Will be devoured and dead

She was the queen bee

He was the screaming lion

They ruled the concrete jungle

With a fist as hard as iron

They solved society’s code

And clambered on other people

With sharp knives and wits

They reached the highest steeple

Forever staying to indulge

Lounging in pecksniffian glam

The boy and girl found bliss

Amidst avariciousness and scams

But their leniency evolved

And the bridges under restless

They began to grow tired

Of withholding the masses

And so their bullets ricocheted

Their crown jewels glinted

Crowds pulled them by their hairs

To obtain what they needed

It turned bloody and carnage

Habituated from vicious attacks

Their downfall shall climax

With a clean suicide pact

The boy with his revolver gun

The girl with her noose and razor

Sitting by the burning castle

“Let’s end this now together.”

But it doesn’t finish that easily

They both survived the dare

He missed his brain by inches

She bled, but only paled fair

One ended up in a hospital ER

Comatose for his existence

The other was thrown in jail cell

To waste away and lose sense

The girl escapes, mad rambling

With some floss and a bent spoon

The boy sleeps, she pulls the plug

“This will all be over soon.”

And this story doesn’t end

With a wedding and happiness

In this version, one gets killed

By the other one’s duress

Let me tell you a story

Of a stupid boy and a foolish girl

This modern Adam and Eve fable

Is no fairy tale for the sober.

~*~

Watch it from your ivory tower
Paint the sky grey, like a coward
How long you’ve got?
I can go on for hours
A sweet little tale that ended sour
My words will ring in your ears…

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Avoirdupois Tragedienne

But don’t believe
‘Cause yesterday I found her
With her clothes still wet
Crying in the shower
On her knees she screamed
“Why the fuck am I falling apart?”

~*~

Tapes of your your static voice sounding like the stitches you swallowed

A concave complex life, and a Seraphim’s beating wings you followed

Shot like a satellite, burning rapidly on the veil of the thin atmosphere

As soon as your phantasmagoria began, it all became much more clear

.

All they ever do is talk with saccharine bleeding broken tongues

Hoping to discern some logic from a common sense long gone

As you scratch tally marks on your hand silently with a garnet pen

Wishing badly that it was a pair of scissors you were holding then

.
Needle skin and paper hair, and the ashy cigarette butts that you wear

Serotonin tears and that sloven stare which says “I don’t fucking care”

But when the coarsely outlined nightmares all come crashing down

You’ll feel vibrations and aftershocks of the rueful bottomless sound

.

The screaming moon sends all its best from the collapsing space

Torn down like coloured magazines with a single aegean gaze

Bite down on your pencil until your tooth breaks and souls bleed

Whoever said you were gonna fit in this sophisticated puzzle, kid?

.

Another shot bullet, another shot of vodka, cold injections and interjections

Another tearstained pillow muffling and numbing your pained sensations

Sunny post-it notes stuck on a paper bag, for a manufactured inspiration

It’s giving you a nasty sunburn, who wants a blinding optimistic illusion?

.

Parochial drops of burning gold, learn to read between the parallel lines

Midnight nails and garage sales, can’t they read the perspicuous signs?

Tinted shades that block the tainted world away from their callous naïvety

Shaded rose like a melodramatic pose struck in a ludicrous inscrutability

.

Bitter lemon groves with souring hearts, and they close the equidistance

Collapsing off the words that sent your life spiralling into a malfeasance

Too late did I tell you to hold on, when you’re already falling off the rope

With no net to catch your neck, you’re a human aviation that’s out of hope

.

Selling pieces of candy bars and gasoline for the faintest leaks of light

Colliding into dead ends to the empty weekend, and you gave up the fight

Eye blink, don’t think, remember that you’re coalescing gossamer being

Fading fast into a sobered demise, and still, would they even start to listen?

.

Zero gravity infinity, your diminishing fragile tether to an elucidated clarity

Now you’re gone forever, they’ll mourn you in verses of glistening poetry

Your sweet strawberry lips are bruised to purple and forever closed the gates

And I’ll only have the stars and myself to blame, why the fuck was I too late?

.

One casual phase, and the flowers curled and melted into a defiant serendipity

Gory over glory, your scarlet shoes are dripping away your evanescing vitality

A derided heretic, a bland predicament, that living was your terminal etiology

Now you’ve taken the easy way out, and I never even got to say to you…I’m sorry.

~*~

‘Cause you don’t even know you’re an angel
Foolish am I for the times I’ve come and gone
These stars defy love, so close my eyes
And sleep inside your worn-in bed
And it woke me up like a heart attack
When you talk in your sleep I’ll be there
To slow your breath.

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Monuments of Stone

“The waves of time wash us all clean.”

~*~

Time. Washing its crystalline waves against the quartz sand, lapping at my hesitant curled toes, receding back into the vast inky darkness of the hyperspace sea. Behold the limitless great ocean of time, and the many beasts and creatures that live within its chasmic abyss, hungry for youth, hungry for experiences, always starving and eager to search for a prey, for memories to wither and waste away.

Years, fluttering like a pure white candle in the blustering wind; fragility trembling, luminosity quivering, conflagration dwindling, wanting in faith of its own stability. Its radiating warmth and incandescent brightness giving you a guiding light in soft hues of lambent hope, before a final gust of tempestuous breeze cruelly snuffs it out, leaving only a burnt wick and melted waxen tears of a lost castaway, congealing within the blinding darkness.

Months, thawing like polar ice caps on a desolate mountain, melting sluggishly and painstakingly, falling like liquidated diamonds as they slide down the slippery slope of porphyry, too enticed by the mysterious allure of gravitational forces to stop; drop by drop, shard by shard, tear by tear, little by little, then faster still, until it gets more gargantuan, mass constellating and collapsing downwards into one hollow rumble of a melancholy howl, mourning and bereft.

Weeks, like seven cups of various tea, flavours diverse and varying depending on your mood. Clashing soft seasons in your mouth; minty, citrussy, milky, zesty, sour, bland, diluted, an overall bittersweet affair, oiling rusty old bones and rejuvenating that sanguine blush in one’s cheeks. Yet when the teapot is empty and all the china cups are drained to the very last umber drop, your stomach feels faintly ill, bitter the only aftertaste in your tongue, and you can neither drink nor take no more.

Days, hurtling back and forth expeditiously, whistling past your ears like a frisbee. Thrown with quick reflexes, launched in a directionless manner, tossed around carelessly with none so much an earnest thought but an insouciant laugh, thinking its all in jubilant fun, as it spins and spins, making you feel dizzy, giving your mind vertigo, as you watch and wait patiently for its ineluctable return, just so you can throw it away again.

Hours, jumping and bounding past like frenetic mercurial creatures, never in a singular place, always everywhere, dancing the stars away as though nothing else matters. One moment they might be flitting by your tiring bruised ankles in a taunting tarantella, in a callous attempt to make you trip, yet they might be spiralling into the open Stavanger horizon, in a woeful waltz of dissolving resignation, the next.

Minutes, in a clever coveted Janus-faced deceit, tricking and ticking, masticating and muttering, revolving and relocating, elongating and elevating, faltering and fading, they’re but ruled ramshackle beings trying to stretch those measly seconds into a nuanced artifice of further longevity, eddying such curious naïvetés as you or I to believe that we have all the time in the world.

And the seconds, by god, those measly scintilla of a moment, a speck of a fairy tale caught in a jiffy, those shortest pauses that feel like a lifetime’s worth of disconnected reminisces, as breaths hitch, pulses halt, hairs raise, and the planet ceases it continuous revolution, taut gravity loosening for the briefest moments, allowing souls to soar. A blink of an eye always costs a bereavement of grand eloquences.

Milliseconds. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. Days. Weeks. Years. Decades. Centuries. Aeons. Eternity. Everyone’s wasting time counting time, trying to stop the flow of the inevitable by catching it in an aquarium, and when the pressure is too much, the thin sheet of fragile glass succumbs to the pressing force, and begins to crack and shatter, water pouring out in raging torrents, desperate to escape. We douse ourselves in pneumonic coldness, trying to grasp what’s already slipping from our fingers, trying to save what’s already long gone. But in the end, we get another glass jar and try again and again, much like the innocent hopeful fools we perceive ourselves to be.

A hundred years is what it will take for my living monument to erode away and crumble into clouds of dust and ashes, precipitating pieces of my soul to the weeping planet, yet it will invariably take less than the smallest measure of time to do so, if I stand out into the open salty air and allow myself to be devoured whole by the mistress of the universe.

The waves of time recede in a tranquil stillness, then emerge once again, crashing in a quiet tantrum. The water rises. The tide grows higher. It is up to me whether to bravely swim against the current, or simply drown away in the undertow.

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