Tag Archives: melody

affettuoso

ivory keys

press down on a

sheathed smile

every note calling

a quiet honey—

ebony in the night

it’s just a torn

coronary,

.

monochrome

crush in metronome

a maiden’s heart

aggressive, then soft

cheeks kissing floor

a melody in thorns

she shouldn’t…but the

shards feel so pretty;

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red as the day she lost her sunset

my pen ceased to move

involuntarily to your soul,

but darling my thoughts have

since never stopped dancing

ever since that fateful summer

when you collided it into motion.

my faith may be a reckless phantom

but my eyes are your scarlet letter

and i’ll always see the world for how

you built it according to your word

of eloquence, of madness, of every sigh;

and i’ll never forget the melodies

that embraced all the darkest parts

Of my liquid nightmares, and pulled

them back slowly into the sunlight

until the nights felt warm with hope again.

i’d call you an angel, if it isn’t overused

and i think you already know that anyway—

but always know this to be the truth:

you may not always be the last thing on my mind,

but darling, you will always be the first.

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Of Feminine Odds And Endings

I swear you complete me
Pink and blue on the skyline
Don’t the demons take this time
So raise me up, never say you’ve had enough
And you know it’s love when it’s bottled up…

~*~

Spent ten days counting dandelions in a field

Like time was miserable and needed camera thrills

Painting a scene that wasn’t quite as wayward

As a night filled with stars in some cheap postcard

Distance is effervescent when I close my eyes

Lips pulled into an idyllic smile, trying to play nice

.

Waking up when the collapse is felt in earthquake faults

Visions stifled with thorazine, my art is charcoal cold

I’ll dance like it’s the apocalypse, I’ll sing loud like I mean it

Spin a tornado with the air I have left in my lungs sweet

I’m just a mess trapped in sunflower swirls and pastel dreams

Tinderbox between my teeth, aldehyde ignites my screams

.

I don’t mind that it’s mindless, I don’t make any sense

The windows show my only escape from pyrexia bleakness

I’ll cast a spell and make the golden in the sunshine die

Plucked violets intricately lacing, like delinquent butterflies

Traipse by coastlines ’til the shore is nowhere to be found

Staring at the hypnotic horizon until I cannot feel the ground

.

Heavy, heavy, heavy dahlias; transient mysteries I’ll never solve

The morning’s further past over, and the mourning’s getting old

I’m a melancholy melody, I’m a symptom of severing snowdrops

A feverish heart cured by faux rhinestones from a psychic’s shop

Contrary crazy, I only miss the rain when the weather’s at it’s best

Drown in myself, I’ll keep looking for an exit out of this baby’s breath.

~*~

I had a dream that
I drove my car off a mountain
I fell back into your baby’s breath
Wish I didn’t miss you
Kiss me like it’s the apocalypse
I fell back into your baby’s breath…

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the one

Only you can make all this world seem right
Only you can make the darkness bright
Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do
And fill my heart with love for only you…

~*~

how can i say

that i envy the chase

from the tip of my pencil

to your graphite gaze?

spitting my heart

onto an endless canvas

of greys and blacks,

hoping the red would stain…

but it never does.

only your floral words are

indelible on my skin

and the reverse

is just a lie i tell myself

so i could sleep a little better

every forsaken night.

the truth is far from your moon;

beyond all your pretty stars

and iridescent eternities,

it is despairingly beyond my fathoms.

but i hope, and again i hurt

for butterfly smiles

and deluding taciturn undertows

and nightmarish illusions

leaving bruises of you

on the very tip of my lost tongue

and all over my wept eyes;

a lifeless empty void

against the autumn shower

of your warm hermetic glances.

and there is no one else

to keep this rusted clockwork

ticking rhythmically to the beats

of your mindless cradle…

and that is the ultimate folly

of this ascetic destructive shale

that i tactlessly call my soul.

for a fool’s machinery,

this chemical heart is.

So indiscernible to lose itself in

such vitreous self-infliction,

and sabotaging the very blood

that my tiring arteries

now regain, thus to sustain

the very memory of your breath

in tranquil consonance…

foolish—and yet; a fool, i am.

a fool for believing that this

lie was past the dark side of the moon

and beyond my wounded stars

and lacklustre infinities…

you are despondently beyond my fathoms.

but i hope, and again, i hurt.

ma cherie, just how can i ever say

that i envy the calm reflection

from the incipience of your melody

to your coda’s revelations?

~*~

Only you can make all this change in me
For it’s true, you are my destiny
When you hold my hand
I understand the magic that you do
You’re my dream come true
My one and only you…

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cacophony

i am in severe pain

over the bedlam sounds

ringing the devil’s song

in my deafened ears

i hear them again and again

even when i cover myself

all i can ever listen to is

the earsplitting tears

.

i am in severe pain

over the bedlam sounds

echoing hell’s melody

beyond my ears, in my brain

if this is what pure silence

sounds like, then i would

rather be dead than to

have it eternally remain.

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word vomit

And here we go again with all the things we said
And not a minute spent to think that we’d regret
So we just take it back, these words and hold our breath
Forget the things we swore we meant…

~*~

i keep wasting my words

on someone who doesn’t

give a single damn anymore

every profanity and melody

symbols and type bringing up

yet another detestable score

.

i keep wasting my words

on someone who doesn’t want

nor deserve it all anymore

and i keep running out of lines

choking on my dictionary

and still you asked me for more.

~*~

I’ll write you just to let you know that I’m alright
Can’t say I’m sad to see you go
Cause I’m not (no, I’m not), well, I’m not…

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Headlines & White Wine

I could never tell what’s on my mind when you are inside it

Lenient limerence against the lashing lacerations, on repeat

Over a cypress tree you painted in grey and told me to climb

Vagabond heart hiding behind a million branches, I can’t find

Elusive footprints you left in the virgin snow sing a soft melody

Defying the limbo I’m trapped in, fugue nightmare of my vanity

Your cinder block notes and forte strings cut me to the very bone

Orchard chasing sunset, counting sparrows until we end up alone

Undersea glow that drowned my eyes in a steady gurgling cadence

Victory you’ve held apart from me, my darling southern enchantress

I see now the sky you perceived, the suicide reds and sweetest scarlet

Clairvoyance of the words you tucked in my head, I won’t ever lose it.

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Static Sessions

And you can’t fight the tears that ain’t coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah you bleed just to know you’re alive…

~*~

It’s rather strange and desensitisingly nerve-wracking, standing up there with shivering knees, under the judgment of glaring spotlights and hanging magenta lamps, and past the scrutinising pupils of a million watching stars. I do not feel like my own concrete entity, merely a disheveled apparition trapped in a foreign body. The amp screeches—jeeringly, it seems. I momentarily blanch. What the hell am I doing?

Perspiring profusely, trembling hands holding the gibberish lyrics to an unfamiliar forgotten song and an impatient crackling microphone, the beginning intro of the acoustic guitar sounds like a banshee’s scream that’s prompting my knotted larynx to begin making even an inkling of a noise. Quivering, quivering, quivering; dreadful hesitation and a near-death anxiety that wrings the delirious butterflies out of my stomach in an icy-cold freeze. An infinitesimal moment of silence. A skip of a heartbeat. A suffocating breath held until it coagulates. A spill of acherontic reluctance spilled down catatonic spines before one jolts and realises in shock that, surprise surprise, my parched mouth is actually producing sound!

Thus the song proceeds, with or without me. It’s up to me to chase after it’s vivacious footsteps. My voice is no longer my own, simply a phantom illusion; I barely feel it rising up and down, strumming the musical bars to the best of its abilities. Everything tastes like stereo static; clapping and cheering amid guitar and tambourine amid the anxious symphonies I relayed. The quaint scenario tangibly intensifies into a steady culmination, vertical horizons alighting into spontaneous combustion. Steadfast certainty underhandedly replaces the oscillating nervousness within me, pastel assurance slowly seeping in my ticking aegan-washed bones and strengthening every fibre of my abandoned sensibilities.

I find myself closing my eyes and loosening my grip, my driftwood soul getting pulled in the undertows of the euphoric moment. I can barely hear my own voice anymore, and I do not hear the crowd at all. Soprano, baritone, octaves, trebles, notes and rhythms and senselessness and song, they’re all that envelops me right now, my solitary company in this madness of a world. Raging fire burns in my emotions, thawing the glaciated blood in my veins, warming up the frostbitten angels barely holding my terse heartstrings together, bringing oxygen back to my perforating pulmonary flow; and nothing else matters anymore, only me and the music, the music and I.

The interlude swells into a deafening crescendo, and my frizzling neurons go off like fourth of July fireworks, showering the sky with brilliant sparks. It’s infinity on repeat, infinity in my teeth, infinity rushing low, infinity on an all-time high. This feels fucking amazing. What was there to be afraid of? Why had I been terrified all this time of such a ludicrous notion? Perhaps if I had steeled myself sooner, my brillo-pad songs would be less abrasive, and the ticking clock would’ve been on my side. But no matter, for I shall not dwell on the resentment of the past that keeps me embrangled within incarcerating doubt and merciless agony. Rather, I will focus on the now. This is me, doing what I never dared to do, doing what I’ve always wanted to do. I’m doing this for them, my beautiful divine motivations, though more importantly, I’m doing this for me, and for me alone.

The set comes to a slowing halt, the prospect tinging me with hints of sorrowful melancholy, and the audience bursts into polite applause, but the enraptured sensations linger still; and as I amble off the stage, I still find a soft lone melody humming whimsically at the back of my mellowing incandescent mind. It’s over, I sigh out to my palpitating lungs, to my shaky footing, to my disbelieving mind, attempting to calm my frantic pulse back into a metronome lullaby. But it will never be quite over, wouldn’t it? I ponder with a secret smile. I finally found my voice. I only hope I don’t lose it again. And I can only hope so hard it hurts that I don’t keep it to myself anymore.

~*~

And I don’t want the world to see me
‘Cause I don’t think that they’d understand
When everything’s meant to be broken
I just want you to know who I am…

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Filed under Prose

Song Outlines

I feel the walls are closing in
I feel the oxygen depleting
I gave you something I can’t get back…

~*~

Brainwashed with expectations

Far cry for help to stamp notions

Screaming feels like cacophonies

For God’s own personal melodies

Deluded with ornamented words

Burying knives in crashed worlds

Chromatic outlines left me in grey

Now I see why you fell in its fray.

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Oh, She’s a Handsome Melody

Allow me to exaggerate a memory or two
Where summers lasted longer than, longer than we do
When nothing really mattered except for me to be with you
But in time we all forgot and we all grew…

~*~

Oh, she’s a handsome melody

Singing as butterflies

Shimmer down her lips and

Leave traces of soft kisses behind

The wind tastes like summer

When that girl makes up her mind

And oh, she just reminds me

Of the dancing willow tree

In the daffodil garden

That we used to count the stars in

Like the seconds of eternity

As the hazy veil of smoke obscures

The beliefs and milestones we observed

Under a faithless smile

Of neverminds and lost boys awhile

A lemonade serenade

A penny for your thoughts

Your citrus heart may be bitter

But I’m coming back for more

And if the autumn leaves don’t rain

Your firework eyes will remain

Chartreuse grass wilts with a touch

But I don’t think your bloom was too much

So laugh along with me

And with the stubborn weather

We’ll catch a painted reverie

With our open palms and fragile fingers

And find our way back home

And let the world sing our songs

.

Oh, she’s a handsome melody

Imagining new colours as she walks

Leaving lavenders behind her

Spilling sunshine when she talks

As the sunset buries itself in her hair

Clashing scarlet and the darkness

On the tangled ribbons that she wears

We have what-ifs and perhaps

And slow motions in a time lapse

The birds that nest themselves in the clouds

Are halo dreams we don’t say aloud

Oh, if paradise must not be you

I won’t bet my cosmic dust that it’s true

Toss a coin all the way to the moon

To see if evening falters soon

Northern lights explode in pastel stage

Baby blue against ancient beige

Of the sepia films we worn down watching

With butter eyes and late-night flings

The memories and pinkish stains

Of sugar canes and rusty weathervanes

Capturing skeletal affinities

In ochre negatives and perfect peach skins

But if your camera doesn’t wink back

I’ll fetch you a canvas and a paintbrush

Let the fairies light our way home

And let the world sing our songs

.

Oh, she’s a handsome melody

That whistling pirouette of a symphony

At the back of your thoughts

Cotton and silk voices singing reminiscently

Melting the headache with a cough

Simplifying the sea for me

The ocean waves flood my ducky umbrella

And we will sail on a little boat

In a rustic countryside river

As pleasant zephyr makes her shiver

On a sluggish Sunday afternoon

Let’s toast the scenery with our spoon

And hope not to tease the playful downpour

Of a melancholy foreign storm

Patient throes of our drizzling repose

I’ll be her divine capricorn

Let’s look for our cabin in the woods

Careful not to swallow cobwebs

When the rusty door creaks open and before

She tiptoes in her yellow Mary Janes

Around the silence of the wooden floorboards

And we’ll light the chandelier

With pink peppermint-scented candles

And warm the sooty old fireplace together

And if the scarecrows don’t disturb us

Tapping faint on the windowsill

We’ll count calendar days on our way home

And let the world sing our songs

.

Oh, she’s a handsome melody

My dear spinning music box ballerina

Found her missing puzzle piece

Under bronze cogs and silver machines

Hid away a lost golden promise

She’s like accidental poetry

The clandestine sonata under my bed

With her jewelry elegance and pretty mouths

And billowing scarves of vivacious red

As she dances to the march of broken clocks

She’s as memorial and as divine

As an overused book spine

The lilting laugh of the chimes

Her curlicues of static giving you vertigo

On an afternoon station of a radio

We’ll find an obscure carnival

And fly along like entangled kites

Drop our car keys on the berg of the pier

Toast wine and champagne all night

Visit each stall and play silly stuffed toy games

Dizzying in carousels and ferris wheels

Have a repast of friends and pageants

I’ll hail her as the crown princess of the hill

But the galaxies in her ice cream cone

Chilled her to the ivory bone

I’ll tuck a blanket around her shoulders

Perched delicately like mockingbird feathers wise

Dissolving traces of an efflorescent heliotrope of a smile

And smudged ink on her drowsy eyes

We’ll sleep the horizon night

And if the blue coast doesn’t close away

We’ll go back and have our swan song someday

Of our eternal farewells to the summer

That wouldn’t exist, we’ll stay that way forever

And if this love isn’t enough to put your fears at ease

The innocence will be yours to keep

And if we don’t find our way back home

We’ll let the world sing our songs.

~*~

Your melody sounds as sweet as the first time it was sung
With a little bit more character for show
And by the time your father’s heard of all the wrong you’ve done
Then I’m putting out the lantern, find your own way back home…

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