Tag Archives: tales

the house of sinners

You’ve fallen captive to what you thought would
Save you, what you thought would clean your slate
You’re in the thick of it now and you have swallowed the hook
What’s done is done, we’ll continue on with or without you
Pain must exist in order for healing to survive
Neither one will ever serve their purpose alone…

~*~

underhanded whispers

rotting foundations to the very core

flesh devoured by the ego

and cold blood sold to murder slaves—

black eye gouged for black eye

in this parasitic wasteland;

of a home built on crossbones

and mangled hearsay

swallowing teeth and anger

boiling harsh on explosive veins

devouring the starving bruised hearts

until all that’s left is arcane vitriol.

so tear my body apart to pathetic shreds,

expose the lies in my backbone

and make me believe fervently in

your hypocritical preambles,

distorted tales of abuse,

vile corrupted, asinine whining,

and the conjured-up apparitions at the

tip of your foul leather tongue…

i’ll pass it on to another fool;

taking them as you have taken me for.

because oh, i just adore

your stories of foolhardy orphans

and the secret adoptions that

you slipped in our coffee like poison

and now you have the nerve to grit

the dirty money between

your running mouth and say that

we don’t fucking deserve any of your trust

as you shamelessly go crawling back to your mistress

and weep behind red war paint.

a personal sadistic leverage,

that pathetic carnage of a temper of yours.

watch yourself before you accuse us

and don’t speak with the smoking gun

permanently lodged between your

pointing fingers like a quickly-burning cigarette,

because you’re gonna set yourself on fire.

and we’ll stand back and watch

the hostile flames convict you of arson—

among all of the other crimes

you’ve shamelessly committed against us,

because it’s the most merciful thing

we could ever do to you.

~*~

This is my goodbye, don’t worry
We saw through your trickery
And we’re coming out alive, see you at the end
What was once your life is now lifeless
What was once your life is now your jail cell.

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dead poets

i have a love

for stories

so intricate

and tall tales

so profound

but it’s the

simpleminded

souls with no

spiteful lies

that get their

words around.

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heartaches painted in grey

i want a million diamonds

from the sky to shatter my perception

and allude my verboten tongue

.

waiting for florid ice and fire

to thaw in each other’s grasp, aureole eyes

flickering against the soft dimming of the lights

on and off and on and off and on…

.

these hearts don’t belong

to the bathroom stall

and your paperback tales aren’t mine

.

i wish i could collide my mouth with the promises

that you will never keep from me

and i wish you would climb out from the

black screen that you hide under

praying for a sordid memory

.

though they say it isn’t meant to be

but another distant heartache

spilling oil paintings at the back of my

monochrome cracked skull.

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A Pontificating Performance

Today I fell and felt better
Just knowing this matters
I just feel stronger and sharper
Found a box of sharp objects
What a beautiful thing
Do you want a song of glory
Well I’m fucking screaming at you…

~*~

There isn’t a need to stick

Your sanctimonious wooden nose

High up and mighty in the air

For you reckon you’re so clever

And a marvellous timely troubadour

With your prevarications of despair

Oh, special, pretty, little white flower

The crowds adore your recherché

And a flounce of your plaited hair

But your hagiographic glass eyes and

Pinocchio nose impales mendacity

The audience bleeds whenever you share

Soon they will disperse haughtily

Leaving your stage in its desolation

And next time no one would give a care

So pray not be quite presumptuous

And see all sides of the icositetragon theatre

When you’re performing to be fair.

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Hazy Recollections; of Apocrypha and Anachronism

This place is a prison
And these people aren’t your friends
Inhaling thrills through $20 bills
And the tumblers are drained
And then flooded again and again…

~*~

These aren’t friends

In a pub crawl wend

Buying cheap thrills

With ten dollar bills

.

I trade tales cavalier

Over rinds and beer

Frothy, foamy, nutty

And turnstile revelry

.

Where you’ll end up

Inside a plastic cup

Bubbling in duplicity

Rock bottom, hit me

.

And rouse in a frock

Tick, pendulum clock

Sprawled in ballroom

Pierrot dancing tunes

.

By the candelabrum

Candlelight autumns

Feigning my glamour

When it’s all clamour

.

Confetti is cascading

Réclames showering

Stale tasting perfume

Grey asbestos gloom

.

Her silky black dress

Most gorgeous mess

Perhaps; his tie loose

Scuffed Oxford shoes

.

Clinking champagne

Metaphysical games

Kill off the lively night

Decay ’til sunset light

.

Ending in a broom closet greed

Or under the bed with a canopy

Wake up with a migraine death

Curled up in a medicine cabinet

.

Oh, but these aren’t your best friends

No more than the rules you will bend

Wineglasses refilling up until it’s tipsy

Enjoy this bona fide apocryphal soirée.

~*~

What does it take to get a drink in this place?
What does it take, how long must I wait?

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Democracy For The Dead

“The graveyard is not normally a democracy, and yet death is the great democracy, and each of the dead had a voice, and an opinion…and they were each determined to be heard, that night.” ~The Graveyard Book; Neil Gaiman

~*~

A whisper lost in chasmic shadows, seemingly hallucinatory sound of a slither

So let the strangers talk loudly and blither, let their rusty voices echo and shiver

Roaming souls naked, stark, transparent, inert bodies ever decaying and withered

In a place meant for utmost silence and misery, yet it buzzes clear with deathly hithers

.

The resting and the restless all have their personal stories to purvey and entail

But unfortunately, dead rotten men and dry dusty bones can’t possibly tell no tales

Their unheard opinions, smoke from their mouth, are transformed into wispy grey fog

That haunts the cemetery, rolling, choking, tendrils, the cleanest air it clogs

.

The sick and the diseased, the victims and the murdered, the horridly executed in hate

The innocent hearts alongside the thieving rats, all are equal and have one final date

They all pray for democracy for the dead, to let their sussurus voices do some justice

Listen very closely in the dead of the coldest dislimned night, and one just might hear them speak.

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Hallowe’en.

Boys and girls of every age
Wouldn’t you like to see something strange?
Come with us and you will see
This, our town of Halloween…

~*~

WHAT SHE FEARS

Ghosts and phantoms of all sizes haunted the dark streets

Monsters and wraiths, terrible creatures in different feats

But as she stared blankly outside the window, sitting in her bed

She realised that the monsters she was scared of most resided in her head.

~*~

HALLOWEENTOWN

They adorn their colourful masks and hide their pale sunken faces

Place bedazzling costumes upon costumes to avoid strange gazes

The entities, every night they play, dressing up as normal humans

Pretending to be normal and hiding their true forms as horrid demons.

~*~

FADE

Once-warm bodies will soon rot and decay

And bitter ashes can scatter, filling the air with a sickly grey

An insipid blotchy photograph’s all there is to stay

A lonely reminiscent of another fugacious life faded away.

~*~

SILENT VIGIL

Flicker, flicker, flicker, off the lighted candles go

Unsteady flames wobbling, gradually they grow

Solemn prayers passed around like a paper and pen

Lost souls pray for themselves; cold, saturnine, forgotten.

~*~

TRICKS AND TREATS

Knocking on the door and chanting “Trick or treat!”

Children smile and eagerly await their free delicious sweets

Tooth-tingling candies to beguile the innocent outright

From the true monsters and devils lurking that very night

With their own personal bags they roam, looking for their free treats

And what that might be? Young children. With fresh tender meat.

~*~

This is Halloween, this is Halloween
Pumpkins scream in the dead of night
This is Halloween, everybody make a scene
Trick or treat till the neighbours die of fright…

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