Tag Archives: parts

Parts Missing

You’ve got a mouth like a running motor

And a family of mismatched gears, grinding

And gnashing furiously against rusted teeth

Shrieking, careening, holding sanity hostage

Turning all of your consolidated wrongs into

Your own personal brand of justified bullshit

As the rest of your brainwashed system starts

Automatically nodding along in pure assent

Necks pulled up, snapped limp, dangling in

Blank-slate eyes masking their lifeless cries

Idiots imitating your inescapable idiosyncrasies

I would hate to be blunt but maybe they deserve it

And the clamorous crashing of metal only sounds like

Music to your own bleeding ears, deafened by the violence

So spare me the pretence of a well-oiled dynamic, will you?

Because unlike them, I’m not one of your damaged fucking machines.

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Vita Dell’aldilà: An Tragedy Opera in Four Parts

A makeshift smile, a polished look
Some rehearsed lines was all it took
He had it down, man, he was good
A woman screams, her mother weeps
A life so changed irrevocably
What he stole from her is gone for good…

~*~

ACT I: TERRO

Shadows under a spotlight, curtains calling and faces falling

Misfortune malady and maidens in masks, tickets outselling

The man of the show, the leading actor dies of a heart attack

They applaud his craft, the prima donna screams come back…

~*~

ACT II: INFERNO

Pantomimes place props, as paramedics arrive for scene two

The act has turned, audiences gasp, orchestra goes crescendo

A stagehand slips and farers faint, dim lighting and all is dire

Cigar tossed, a painted background of inferno catches on fire…

~*~

ACT III: PURGATORIO

The doctor announces the demise of a thespian, tears are shed

Performers pause for unfortunate condolence, in a quiet stead

Breaths hushed and whispers silenced in devastated memorial

As the stage director pays his respects, and indicates the burial…

~*~

ACT IV: PARADISO

But the artists recover, as the crowd settles down to a murmur

Limelight brightens, musical tempo, inquiries made no further

The poor cadaver carried away to the morgue to be cared upon

Death might watch from the audience, but the show shall go on.

~*~

When the purest soul is stained by sin
To the public eye where can she begin?
She lost it all and it’s gone for good
And she may never beat the system
But she won’t rest until she’s turned
The villain to the victim…

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Clockwork Seizure

“I can feel my nerves clicking like…roller coaster cogs, pulling up to the inevitable long plunge.” ~Will Graham

~*~

Something is wrong inside of you.

Very wrong.

You’ve never noticed it before.

But your minute engines seem to be s-t-u-t-t-e-r-i-n-g along

The gears /stop/ grinding altogether

The parts fall off like a rotten tooth.

And your mind suddenly snaps;

Into a m i l l i o n f e t t e r e d p i e c e s

Snap, crackle, pop.

Shatters silently, leaves no traces

The room around you, you find

Seems to get closer, closer

Pressing against your thoughts

Against your claustrophobic mind

And you can hear the walls

Screaming

Crying

Beckoning you with ~calls~

Pounding

P o u n d i n g  h a r d e r

Gales growing stronger

Fire tornadoes, heart burner

Manipulation and deceit

The universe ever so conceit

The working, ticking clock in the room

Further mocks your whim

Tick. Tick. Tock.

Mad laughter is besmirched in the very air

The metallic smell. The barging pounds.

Getting harder. Faster. Closer.

Until it rips into the walls of your brain.

The awful headache is highly unbearable

Aspirins refuse to dissolve the pain.

Is there anything to do but give in?

The provenance never mattered anymore

The cause is lost and gone too far

All that remains are clockwork metal

Tapping slowly on the concrete ground

Screws, bolts, nuts, cogs rolling away

And the numbers and hands seem to slowly decay

And all smudge together and float around

Before rusting and fading away behind

Along with your wispy broken mind.

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