Tag Archives: satirical

Satirical Reminiscences

While you stood over the pavement
I was biting the curb
Sick entertainment, but I’ll bet it feels good
Coming down
Can’t bear to wash out the wasted time
Between your lips and mine…

~*~

You and I are simply wasting nascent time in a universe that was never built for two

Parallel worlds and black holes are the more befitting sets for this tragedy play of rue

When we parted and said our dead goodbyes, roses wilting on a cold eve of November

I asked you, in the midst of the howling wind and chasmic rain, darling, do you still remember?

.

Do you remember the sugary whispers you uttered before you sounded a guttural scream

Against my ear, an act of raw violence tearing against the veneer of saccharine seams?

Do you remember the harsh music we made, the orchestral cacophony growing louder

With the accompaniment of shattering sounds as we threw vinyl records at each other?

.

Do you remember the cross of my trembling pallid fingers, stained with bitter nicotine

When I huddled in the shadows of a church confessional, and prayed silently, kneeling?

Do you remember, dear, the sagacious sacrament of sins I spilled from my rotten mouth

Do you remember love, when you told me coldly that a million prayers it won’t have to make up?

.

Did you witness, when I put a silver bullet in my brain and mercury replaced my tears?

With the acrid grey gun smoke clashing against your wispy careless cigarette tendrils

Do you still keep that wispy lock of your blonde angel hair that I used as my noose?

Did you see when I lay broken on the downtown boulevard, lacerated, marred, and bruised?

.
Did you realise our souls were perpendicular, wounded hands clambering against

We were just mastering the art of miracles and reaching for some dumb luck heaven sent?

Did you recall falling away in a ravine, and the light drizzle of upsidedown bitter tears

Darling, can you still taste on your red tongue the crimson and cobalt stormy smears?

.

Do you remember all those jovial days playing chase in the verdant butterfly garden

When it was perfect; I was your protective Adam and you were my ravishing Eden?

Now love, do you still have the poisonous serpentine apple lodged in your choking throat?

When you bit at the forbidden temptation and blamed me solely, said our curse was my fault?

.

Do you remember those days? Do you remember what went wrong? Won’t you tell me darling?

All that sweetness of our emotions that grew into a dark cavity, destroying, decimating, decaying?

Tell me all you can think of, in this biography, for I’m bleeding raven ink stains, blotting your pale paper skin

We’re writing a fantasy book of us, false reality scribbled on the yellowed pages, a befitting tragicomedy for other fools to be entertained.

~*~

So c’mon and swing it back and forth just like
My heart is on a pendulum tonight
I only wanna watch your clouds
Linger in the darkness
Oh, can’t you feel it?
You’re feeding on my restless soul
Oh, can you see that
It’s never enough, it’s never enough…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Intoxication

Whiskey gin and brandy
With a glass I’m pretty handy
I’m tryin’ to walk a straight line
On sour mash and cheap wine
So join me for a drink boys
We gonna make a big noise…

~*~

The name’s John Barleycorn, shrewd dipsomaniac since I was born, crude and rude till I get my brewed shit

I’m snapping on schnapps, losing my head on mead, and I invigorate my cold depleted spirits on iced spirits

Feasting nightly on a steady regular diet of grains (well, fermented ones); barley, malt, yeast, wheat, and rye

Foraged aqua vitae for vitality, Dutch courage, until I’m shaken and stirred up, bleary, weary, died and red-eyed

I’m a high flier, a live wire, a wildfire, I glue to the graffitied wall, hundred empty cans of crumpled Budweiser

Admitting my sacrosanct sins like a guilty friar as I’m lip-locked with my fellow liars, and no vicar is any wiser

Gonna go home with no designated driver, I’m pretty screwed, yes, so instead I down another screwdriver

Aye, break out the grog matey, ’cause it’s a sailors life for me, if I sail down the road and fall on the breakwater

And true enough, I partake endless dime vodkas and imbibe myself in penny red wine, but I never take cheap shots

Empty bottles shimmer like stars, shattered cocktails colour my tongue and my imagination left in psychedelic blots

Three sheets to the wind, and I flap carelessly till my pale face is scarlet-chafed and my spine feels warmer

Inebriate with magic potions concocted in a deadly caution, but shit, down the hatch, it doesn’t really matter

Out the back door, in the blind alleyway, toss a sidewalk pizza, bartenders love me; I’m bar diving, quite literally

Nefarious night clubs, shady strip bars, and I slam the glass hard on the counter and throw some more money

Fluttering wildly like a green fairy with broken wings, off to search for more magical nectar of gin and margaritas

Doch and Doris, downing scotch, rum, brandy, tequila, and daiquiri, offering a romantic bouquet of wine to seƱoritas

Cocky bastards sipping cocktails, winners spilling wine, sherry for ma cherie, champions popping champagne

Bootleggers legging their booties away and mysteriously manufacturing moonshine under the moonshine

Insomniacs wearing nightcaps drinking nightcaps, saltine crackers with salty legumes and styrofoam peanuts

Aperitifs, chasers, and digestifs all glugged back to back, hell, ain’t got no time to wait for the meal to eat that

A round of choked shots and ten fingers of whiskey and I’ve both middle fingers raised in drunken protest

Aching for a fight foolishly, and in the end, aching muscles and broken glasses and broken dignity is all I beget

Paper umbrellas prick my heart and cigarette butts burn holes in my brain, the thick smoke rolls like a fog so bleary

Lost under a forest of sneakers and stilettos as I crawl my way out the door and falling again as I slip on blood…y Mary

Stupid suckers smashed as the pieced glass on the floor, dancing to avoid bullets, idiots can’t contain their booze

I play and clap to this free midnight show, laugh at the clowns and resound along to the crowd’s distasteful boos

The bar’s a free for all, selling beer, beasts, and bodies, swap your husbands and wives for a conga line of cocaine

I knock back an unpaid pint of lager, climb on the countertop, and speak with a bitter brain and a heart of codeine

So I call attention ladies and gentlemen, three cheers to these asshole bastards and three cheers to the good old days

A big toast to poisonous humanity and the problems that only sweet alcohol can possibly ameliorate and erase

Lose sensation, lose elation, lose the pain, lose your gain, dance the night away, flirt foolishly in saccharine slurs

Toss the hammer and gavel from my judgement and end up in jail, but hey, don’t blame me, I’m just another wasted man drinking to stay sober.

~*~

So don’t worry ’bout tomorrow
Take it today
Forget about the cheque
We’ll get hell to pay
Have a drink on me…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Deus Ex Machina

The creation of the god machine

Was quite the achievement of the century

The inventor, glorified, revered, caused quite a scene

As, in a highfalutin tone, he announced, he decreed

“I’ve created a machine that can solve everything!”

.

The creation of the god machine

Instead of serving its original purpose

Of advancing humanity’s throes

And curing ignorance and ameliorating problems hard

Rather, seemed to throw our spiraling momentum backwards

.

The creation of the god machine

Was not a peaceful time at all

As creationists and non-believers cried

And questions of morality thrived

Imploring “You cannot stuff that amount of power

Inside an infernal machine!”

.

The creation of the god machine

Was further made chaotic

As the moralists’ cries were even more outshone

By those avaricious pigs starving for power

Those twitching hands frenzied with utter greed

.

The creation of the god machine

Fed the planet into a dark age

Brutes and barbarians acting upon primal rage

Machines and technology shunned and revolted

The dark ages – quite literally, if not red

.

The creation of the god machine

Nearly wiped the entire world clean

And even the geniuses and clever minds that hid

Barely survived from the ravenous beasts that run

The last remaining shells of what used to be human

.

The creation of the god machine, he found

Was never worth its discovery, humans were not prepared for this round

Now if only the inventor could create something

To advance; or perhaps, backtrack a million steps

From the cataclysmic maelstrom he had started

…His mistake.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry