Tag Archives: loss

purge


“Won’t somebody let me out?
Don’t want to stick around no more
Sick of looking at you strange
Sick of sticking to the floor.”


finger connecting

epiglottis

a show of power

find control

acid on blue lips

attempts to

manufacture skin

around ulna

stretched-out tight

just a bit more

sick of plain water

but the need is

stronger than crave

sweat trickling

down notched back

tracing triumph

months of sabotage

reach crescendo

lightheaded—but not

from lack, only the

loss, more more more

finger probes tonsil

carefully deep, lodged

clutches the trigger

for maybe another taste

and control heaves

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Native Tongues

How can they say that it’s one way
When it’s the opposite?
And how can they know the end
Of the story before I tell it?
‘Cause when I walk, your feet
They fall to the same beat
Or maybe we’re from two different worlds…

~*~

We used to be the epitome of mindless materialism

Taking apart brick and coin for a little inkling of fun

We talked away in circles, but never in infinity signs

But it didn’t last forever ‘cause we both wanted to die

.

For I never understood why you didn’t ever understand

Until we’re left with empty voices and mismatched hands

I translated it all wrong, you decoded nothing but misery

We spoke in undecipherable tongues, so now we’re history

.

Why did we waste such eloquent words on each other’s lies?

Breathing out sombre songs that never synced the beat right

Wrought desiccated eyes with apertures that flashed blindly

And we set out separate restrictions from the cold apologies

.

We turned back but never forward and we took a couple steps

Too far until we hit the brick walls, this was far beyond any help

How could we plead that it was one-way, intersections opposite

When the fault was a double-edged tongue talking about bullshit?

.

But behind this dead mess, I do admit I enjoyed all the endless chaos

Riding the hurricane with you, and making my own cyclone at a loss

I wish you the same, and let me say I hope you don’t regret and think

Don’t forget the secrets we shared when our native tongue goes extinct.

~*~

We talk to people
But they never understand
They think we’re crazy
‘Cause it sounds like noise to them
Ain’t it strange, all the things you hear
When you sit and listen?

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The Marionette’s March

The fear sets in, of knowing how short our time is
The shortness of stride, not a single excuse to prove
That we were meant for this
Everything starts to spin all at once
If you hear something strange in my voice, its conviction
Detest my words, they have no ill meaning…

~*~

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.

~*~

Oh dear puppet, wake up
And cut the strings before the next show
I believe that this is in your blood
By all means take your place, take your place
Put yourself into this letter, we’ve all had it alright
We dropped the ball.

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Stories For The Antique Shops

Let’s get carried away, we can’t go back to yesterday
Call out the names that you used to know
Singing along in broken stereo
Crossfire that you can’t ignore
I know I’m not around much anymore…

~*~

Here, what was gained was a premeditated loss

Point fingers for blame but never find the cause

Heartwarming situations turned out to be coaxed

Just another fool’s trick, just another foolish trope

.

Because diluted explanations don’t seem to matter

And it’s condemnation to inquire, it’s better to sue

Because the blatant assumptions are held hostage

By a shotgun until the pastor proclaims them true

.

With what’s sincerity I thought there was to abate

Yet it was another fraud you meant to indoctrinate

Was it all fake, then? Was it just a sorry Wonderland

You’d climb to the rabbit hole and let go of my hand?

.

Though for a moment, there was something truly going

By a hairline fracture, by a sinew of flesh barely hanging

But I suppose you got tired holding on to something archaic

Pardon me for being worn-down, never being timely classic.

~*~

One last time for old time’s sake
One more bend before we break
One more time as if we planned it
We just wanna do some damage
So long, so nice to know you…

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Death is a Butterfly in a Mason Jar

For death is something

That cannot be caught in butterfly nets

And kept trapped in glass jars

Death cannot be locked by time alone

Its shadowy wings must flutter

Like ashes through smoke

And search for a breath to steal

As it cannot create its own, only pilfer

Death suckles on nectar tears

Sweet to its palate as it is bitter to mortals

Indulge in soft, exquisite decay

Within the lost garden of perennial grief

All before its delicate withering skin

Touches upon an unfortunate fragile falling chest

And suffocates it with gossamer light

Until ceases it to rise once more

Death is beauty and darkness intertwined

Like a balloon string entangled on a white rose stem

Or blood on a stained glass window

Not all can appreciate its grotesque sensibility

As they fear for their mortality

They simply fail to view past the thin veil

To reveal a nurturing, solitary entity

For death is lone, but it must never be lonely

A heart to bring, one soul to reap

For death must always carry one life

Before it takes away its own.

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[R/L]oss

I’m losing a perfect thing

Past the pastel cracks glaring

Those western eyes were once mine

Now only concrete I could define

Distractions, cold stars on my skin

The sunset whispered words again

Life wasn’t a movie, I got scared

I’ve taken measures not to be prepared

Drag the motivation it burns away

Chafed like elbows on mannequin display

I’m sorry, the phrase casually bland

But there’s no proper way to understand

Chekhov’s gun pointed in my throat

It used to be my sole source of hope

Now it hunts me like a pack of vampires

The situation is a demon, black eyed and dire

I’ll always keep it, I’m afraid to lose this universe

The thought of freckles is such a blessed curse

On a flimsy canopy, past the bed I’ve made

Please don’t let it fade, please don’t let it fade…

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An Epitaph For The Celestial Marching Mercenaries Of The Final Apocalypse

The pious mercenary calling

Ivory halos bent and broken

Freedom, they were waging

With the price of lives stolen.

~faded tombstone inscription

~*~

The hooves came thundering one day, the pale blue horizon turned a foreboding scarlet

As four harbingers arrived, doing damage and causing War, Famine, Pestilence, and Death

The Ultimate Evil broke free from his fettered state, rose in power from the chains and ashes

The end was nigh, anarchy was high, until the skies opened up, and down flew the mercenaries

.

The immaculate mercenaries have come dawning upon our land today

Creating silent storms with their inexorable wings of pure liquid gold

Iridescent forms, fragile butterfly swords dipped in the blood of God

Legends from the end of a century troubadours failed to have foretold

.

Sheaths unravelling and suspended upon the silken strings of calling

Fundamental foundations on which this warring viridian planet o’er lay

For these cavalier soldiers fought and rallied against the stars falling

And saved restless cadavers from treason and potential further decay

.

Celestial hierarchy in motion, choirs of cherubim, seraphs, archangels

Sanctity of the war, exhibition like the clashing forces of moon and sun

White robed guardians arched in a delicate art of finesse, even in battle

Against the austerity of chthonic snarling demons, caliginous as they run

.

An empire of clattering bones and dripped silvery blood and carnage

Ashes choking the northeast breeze along with static crepuscular image

Stones cast whereupon heroes and kings once toasted glass in victory

The tainted lights of the sunset in a thousand days of a darkened glory

.

Holy weapons disintegrating the darkness, wield halos and hand grenades

Line after line of fiends are struck down, interlocked in a contrite parade

In the black and white of the opposed legions, thus occurred a stalemate

It seemed, for just a scintilla moment, that the better had won in this state

.

Yet when the eleventh hour struck, the stained battlefield was wrought

Half the army has gone to waste, and the other half left to fled for good

One survived, a lone figure in brutal combat, the shadows it still fought

Feathers plucked clean raining like hail, yet still, he relentlessly stood

.

Staring upon the paramount beast, standing drenched, shivering in turbid Stygian waters

Looking headlong into his glaring chaotic eyes, mocking, cackling, loathing splattered

A singular hope surged upon his severed veins, energy by grace of God’s dissemination

And with a last leap of faith and roar, he dashed past with broken wings to finish the book of revelation

.

The final frontier has been appended, and the end is a pyrrhic victory with irreparable losses

A defended vengeful side for an unknown singular cause, cost total obliteration to the masses

A valley of casualties lain like a tainted painting, from which artists dare not lay upon the canvas

With the sun burnt out, an frigid winter blanketed Gaia, and Elysium’s throne waited empty, alas!

.

Unsure of who gained the upper hand in this ordeal, a semblance of Heaven and Hell’s last swan song

In pace requiescat, a whisper carried by the last wind, bereft and morose, onto the gales forlorn and strong

And tet all that remains of this violent sordid affair is torn fragments of a yellowing parchment

Yet I tell this tale now, eulogy writ in my own quill and liquid; and I shall raise a glass, a spirit for the spirits

.

So lay a crimson rose in the graves of the bravest men, the fallen comrades, the stalwart mercenaries

Those loyal divine battalions who left paradise to purvey zealous souls against obstreperous enemies

Future hope woebegone, and may they rest in peace forevermore, for they have died, yet not completely in vain

I write this final epitaph for my beloved lost children, may their bold hearts ascend back to the kingdom of heaven once again.

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Wrong Exposure

I woke up with a jolt, and you were still there

Grinning bedazzlingly at me with a hopeful stare

I tried to smile back, but instead wept in shame

Because you were only a face stuck behind a picture frame.

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Names Inside A Jar

Two lives will be forever lost

Pyrrhic losses is the golden cost

For one night of forgotten fun

Until reality takes its run

.

Lives inside a jar preserved

Wasted gifts for reasons absurd

Unnamed specimens, just another display

Of human cruelty that fools decide to embrace.

~*~

(Made in Values Education class.)

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