Tag Archives: sense

Catastrophic Demarcation

Go wreck the clean air for me

And replant some darker green

The kind that runs the world

The one you sought to destroy

With cigarette spewing factories

And cold corporate handshakes

And mass hysteria ignorance

.

Go and poison my faucet drip

With more than bitter chlorination

And occasional sediments of rust

The kind that snakes highly-resistant

Prions right into my better sense

And chokes away all my optic nerves

Into the brink of utter blindness

.

Let me taste all our past and future mistakes

And pay for humanity’s most heinous crimes

For we all deserve imminent hell, don’t we now?

The kind that boils civilisation down to ashes

And piles up bleached bones for the scavengers

Cause if you heed requests from dying machines

Their toxic wasteland will be all that’s left of us.

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Minor Extraction

Darling, you punch in my throat

Like the neon drinks I just knocked back

But it didn’t give me half a buzz

In the way your lilting voice left me apart

You’re my lucky 11:11, if I didn’t

Wish out just a couple minutes too solemn

And let your photos do the talking

Silent as I was, pounding beat of the sirens

Mouthing lips into avalanche, and

Another crimson tidal wave just left to decay

I swear I wouldn’t do this again, but

Here I am, losing my sense to your sympathy

But applebee, you’re my only buzz

When all the bitter brews fail at their only job

And I would give hell to the blood

In my brain for another chance at this brittle love.

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why are you like that

i say that it’s

unreasonable

and yet i keep

seeing reasons

to be foolishly

drawn to this

chaos—a moth

recklessly flitting

against the sun

your ardent rays

have burned a

hole through my

common sense

and i can’t patch

it up with all this

tedious poetry, nor

careless ire, nor

all of the nihilistic

promises i lie to

of patiently waiting

of finding something

all before dying out

and falling off to nothing

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the brightness of life

and at the end of

this asphyxiated

sunrise, what do

we have to gain?

was it a sense of

clarity, or simply

arrogant shame?

.

cross the threshold

hitting dead centre

the dark flags that

sheathed your eyes

will taint gold vision

with another kind of

negative space answer

.

because what was

left to pain, but all

the ones that were

cruelly left behind?

pretending empathy

while erasing names

off our fragile minds

.

too far lost to save

and recovering only

twisted histories and

rewriting our miseries

do you feel that sense

of serendipity, or do you

simply feel the same?

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makes sense

Your past-times consisted of the strange
And twisted and deranged
And I love that little game you had
Called crying lightning
And how you like to aggravate the
Ice-cream man on rainy afternoons…

~*~

thought i had it

waged forever

for a single day

of conversation

.

keeping you at

arm’s length for

another chance

of redemption

.

but i can’t make

up my mind now

i want only that

shade of green

.

and you won’t

share your hues

for the sake of

being seventeen

.

i’ll be unused

synecdoches

an example of

your whole part

.

but you’re just too

pretty to describe

i’ll read a dictionary

in the bleakest dark

.

twenty-six and

maybe then, still

is this sensibility

too immature?

.

do you want a

lifetime together

or something

more than pure?

.

but i guess

this is forever

even though

it’s not the best

.

everything is just

too confusing

and now you’re the

only one left.

~*~

With folded arms you occupy the bench like toothache
Stood and puff your chest out like you never lost a war
And though I try so not to suffer the indignity of a reaction
There was no cracks to grasp or gaps to claw…

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I’ve Got All This Blood On My Hands (And None In My Body)

Stay out of the light or the photograph that I gave you
You can say a prayer if you need to
Or just get in line and I’ll grieve you
Can I meet you, alone, another night and I’ll see you
Another night and I’ll be you
Some other way to continue, to hide my face…

~*~

I wanna turn your insides to white (say it ain’t so)

So it looks good on my bedroom walls (black, blonde, red)

My heart’s been bleached by the tidal waves (so wash me out)

I wonder if it had any colour at all (maybe not)

.

(So they say that the switchblade is better than the sense)

Well then, let’s see how you look in basketcase drag

(So they say that all this praying won’t make you a saint)

Well then, let’s see how you look when it goes bad

.

It’s not profound or romantic (it’s a mechanical interlude)

And I’m tired of (waiting for) all the infinite eulogies

(And they all put words in my mouth that) make me feel sick

Babe, I just wanted to sever a vein (but you made it plural)

.

(The incineration of another night, the gunshots rang clear

The townspeople screamed as a body fell out of a windowsill

Sirens wailed and ambulances crashed to the beat of my heart

Screaming “fucking save me!”, but it was all a nightmare thrill)

.

‘Cause Magdalene’s desecrated (and her scripture womb) now ain’t sacred

‘Cause all your best friends will only get together when somebody starts to die

‘Cause you can have your fucking funeral but still end up running late for it

(‘Cause you might) say grace all you want and still throw up (pure lies)

.

(Say it ain’t so) I wanna turn your insides inside out

(Black, blonde, red) And end up drunk on your bedroom walls

(So wash me out) My heart’s been drowned off by the tidal waves

(Maybe not) I wonder if it meant anything to you at all.

~*~

And we’ll all dance alone to the tune of your death
We’ll love again, we’ll laugh again
And it’s better off this way
And never again, and never again
They gave us two shots to the back of the head
And we’re all dead now…

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b.r.a.i.l.l.e.

i am with the wind.

and the exhilarating thrill

envelops every sense,

taking my aching bones,

my hour-old bruises,

my smiling chipped teeth,

my angry brown scabs,

and lulling them back to rest,

making the pain seem like

just another pastel dream.

everyone’s just a myriad blur,

a riot of ceaseless colours

all rushing past me as

wheels bite gravel and spins

me to a whole new revolution

of a different planet in a

different existence where all

those bad memories don’t exist,

only i, and the sweat and rain

soaking the angel wings on

my back; feeling gravity

and friction and momentum

and all those ethereal forces of

the universe ensconced between

my scuffed red sneakers.

it’s all tricks and treats,

and it doesn’t matter if i fall

and eat concrete a thousand times

trying to do the same thing over again;

it doesn’t matter if i go home

always with new holes all over my

favourite jeans and jumpers

every single damn time;

it doesn’t matter if i’m being

chased away by the people who

think it’s a vagrant’s crime…

because the past and future tense

doesn’t matter when freedom

is felt right here, right now,

with me and my ride,

and i am the wind.

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multiverse

Remember me, she whispered
Heaven’s so far out of reach, and keep me close
Like a moment you’re afraid to leave
So now this is how it feels when you’re all alone
This is how it feels when your heart starts racing
You can ask but you’ll never know
The way it feels, the way it feels…

~*~

we’re not in the same universe anymore

and our tears flow in different states—

almost as that of plasma and gravity,

perhaps identical, but not at all the same.

the nostalgia creeps up like bated breaths

dead into the silence in the middle of the night

and it stays to suffocate the humid air—

and it stays to suffocate the insomniac mind.

there’s some form of sophisticated equanimity

that was achieved by neither of our farewells,

because the end was approaching at breakneck speed

and there simply wasn’t any time to be more polite

cutting out crass with guns we left in each other’s mouths

hoping the trigger doesn’t get pulled with our fingers

like issues, contorted into funny shapes that don’t make sense

breaking off has never been so easy as a lacklustre smile

but the stars never forgive, even when they forget

and the light from the horizon flickers indistinguishably

forming a supernova of your voice, faint though almost palpable

branded like indelible ink stains on the canvas of my brain.

this reverberating staccato, this thoughtless caprice, this infinite lethargy…

it never ceases to write cold epistles even when i am fast asleep.

oftentimes, i look into the other dimension of that cracked mirror

into the faceless impostor, the version of me that existed

before you killed it off, and before i killed you off in my plane,

and wish to the efflorescing quarks that you’re feeling the same way.

~*~

Lost and terrible, hollow in ways you’ll never know
If it’s all in my head, all in my head
It’s heavier now than it’s ever been, so fake a memory
Keeping me quiet underneath
And if this is the end, if this is the end
Destroy everything and make it new again…

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Simple Explanation

Driven by passion, outward away from family and friends
But what they can’t see is that everyday I’m drowning in a sea
Of faces that I miss so desperately with each flashing countenance—
And the weight of their absence has brought me more than once to tears
I wake from sleep violently only to witness those lives and faces
Disappear slowly behind me…

~*~

I.) Mismatched Cultures And Dead Parents

He’s got a bullet where his brain should be

And broken toys where a heart should beat

The stripes on his sweater had begun to fade

The nostalgic photographs lied except for one

So he’s turned to smoke to keep himself awake

And he’s turned to secrets to keep himself alive

But it wasn’t enough to save him from phantoms

Now he’s carried on the wrong side of the casket

No one saw it coming; no one can figure him out

Whispers of self-sacrifice, but quiet murder hung

Of the boy who played with fire but didn’t put it out

It was a mystery—it didn’t make sense to anyone but him.

~*~

II.) False Cancer And A Secret Trip To Rio

A dying man seconds away from his final breath

And his wife by the bedside that couldn’t take any

Collapsed on the floor, the debilitated cried for help

Of what seemed to be a miracle, a feigned recovery

They would die for the other, just another ancient lie

There’s no love without guilt and no guilt without love

The operating table was prepped for a wrongful death

To save the irreparable, it’s too late for her, but not him

The grief was mistaken and the medicine was not taking

All because of a surreptitious slip to a beach without sun

He lived to tell the tale of how she flatlined before his eyes

Under premises of a truth confessed too late, and what it had done.

~*~

We savored the taste of our sweet youth
And now, with calloused hands, gather the remaining fruit
To go any farther, we must endure further pains
Skinned, mashed, and finally strained
Fermenting in the time spent away
Only to return with a fine vintage
To cheers to the health of those who stayed.

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quotes

i’m only

borrowing

inspiration

from poets

that i loathe

because all

their words

make sense

while mine

has no worth.

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