Tag Archives: surprise

pink and gold

I knew she was lying
When she said, “You’re okay.”
You’re not okay, no
You’re not okay, are you?

~*~

sweetest surprises

wrapped in ribbons

and in sing-alongs

and broken wrongs

twisting my lungs

twisting like snakes

twisted apart, i am

like plaited braids

.

but it’s not about

the silver wrappers

or the pastel anchor

to see who’s better

tasting saccharine

tasting like venom

tasted it all, i did

like glitter in honey.

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sweet sundown sky

there’s a peach hanging from the sky

or maybe it’s an apricot

or a freshly-ripe pomegranate…

but whatever it is,

it looks deliciously sweet and succulent

and i’m very much tempted

to pluck it off the honeycomb fade

of the descending horizon

even though it might burn my fingers—

and take a bite of that tuscan sun

to taste a million explosions

dancing and flaring on my excited tongue

for a final palatable moment

all before the golden platter sunset

is ushered away from me

and the table is draped with velvet ebony

embroidered with scintillating stains

of sparkling yellow sugar

presented marvelously before me

and i open the silver tray in anticipation

only to be delightedly surprised

with a half-eaten moon pie.

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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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sticky kisses

crawling over for a kiss

sticky in spittle and bliss

a peck of an open mouth

and tiny teeth i can count

crawling over for a kiss

surprise me as you please

i didn’t ask, but you gave

unconditional love you saved.

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¡Viva Las Vegas!

A pretty picture but the scenery is so loud
A face like heaven catching lighting in your nightgown
But back away from the water, babe, you might drown
The party isn’t over tonight (lighting in your nightgown)
Hey, where will you be waking up tomorrow morning?
Hey, out the backdoor, goddamn but I love her anyway!

~*~

Don’t wipe off your embalmed makeup just yet

I adore you sweetheart, I’ll kiss you for a bet

Poise and irrationality’s the poison of the victim

A pretty covert movie with the lighting dim

.

Memories of a fading twisted tongue collide

Sophistication sliding off the laudanum side

And all the girls at night are making me sweat

And the boys cheer me with wolf calls of respect

.

Empty bottles of gin, dribbling off your chin

The Vegas lights are burning, all-in, and I win

Snatches of conversations swim past my ears

Saline and formaldehyde of cascading tears

.

So say what you mean, and don’t be afraid

This city is yours, take the applause you paid

It’s history, the avenue and boulevard is lined

And they’re all aching to dissect your mind

.

Every perspective approaches home so near

Nicotine stains, champagne, and stench of fear

Hijack my medal eyes and render me numb

Replace the lens of the camera, pop your gum

.

Forget the nightly cabaret, the burlesque shame

The motel room you rented absolves the blame

Dust away the contrite asbestos off your waistcoat

The caricature masks are ready for the grand show

.

We’re decomposing arrogantly in beautiful quiet messes

Girls dancing in white dresses, formidable men with roses

Foreign deaths alluding veracity, chaotic hurricane storms

Velvet lips sealed under the threat of sin, smiling in scorn

.

This night we will sink so low, so wash me away and drop the anchor

Waltzing along with secret admirers and falling asleep on a stranger

It’s a sensation in Viva Las Vegas, a scandal of grandiloquent galantine

So sit back and drink your daiquiris, you’re in for a surprise of romantic machines.

~*~

Climbing out the back door, didn’t leave a mark
No one knows it’s you, Miss Jackson
Found another victim, but no one’s gonna find
Miss Jackson, Jackson, Jackson…

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What’s Her Name

She’s a rebel, she’s a saint
She’s the salt of the earth
And she’s dangerous
She’s a rebel, vigilante
Missing link on the brink
Of destruction…

~*~

She won’t leave until the lights turn red

Troublesome girl, rebelling past the bed

A softspoken tongue, serpentine temper

Stories of surprising anarchy and terror

A saint with horns, little girl with a knife

A lace veiled bride, a bruise beating wife

Rules don’t concern her, A-game’s about

Bosses and bitches, she can take ’em out

Perspectives changing as it tore the walls

I guess I never really knew that girl at all

Past her charming smile and demure eyes

The beast to be feared when unleashed lies.

~*~

She’s a rebel, she’s a rebel, she’s a rebel
And she’s dangerous!

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Pluvial Lullaby

a pleasant

surprise,

a cloudburst

of rain

a summery

shower,

i hope you’ll

remain.

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