Tag Archives: tipsy

tipsy musical notes

So I take the long road to think and wonder
Why I can’t sleep with all this sunlight
If there’s still evidence of us
Why can’t that be enough?

~*~

five a.m. serenades

with a smile that’s built

on the colour of dawn

and a soul that’s stabbed

with voodoo needles

crying blood in the distance

screaming out the name

that it shall nevermore have

annihilating love begging

please, please, please

darling bring me back all

my quagmire stars and

never leave me stranded at

the back of your head

oh darling, please stay away

and fucking come closer

.

five a.m. serenades torturing

spinning the rotary arteries

nonreciprocal delusions

hurting me so fucking much

the cyanide in my tongue

begging please, please, p l e a s e

drown me in the madness

murder the blue moon again

to make me lust for more of dusk

and darling, oh please, please

please don’t depart this brainsick heart

without a final limerent requiem

ending with our mishap beginnings

and shove sunlight in my lungs

to keep me barely breathing

so i could feel your pain some more.

~*~

I’m guiding your chin to my lips
Using only my fingertips
All we have are parking lots and nowhere to go
If you love me, then show me more…

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☆ but ★

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

the sky is bound

to fall anyways

maybe i’ll hold it

back someday

but now the drugs

paralyse my body

the fumes i inhaled

make me so tipsy

and they scream in

surprise and scare

whilst chemicals, it

blurred and stared

the police in batons

they knocked down

the basement doors

paint the red towns

and i’m sitting here

with cold dead hands

clutching my heart

wishing to understand

as they plucked the

planets off the ceiling

my lucy’s parvenus

her swan song dying

maybe the sky will

fall, splash eternity

but i’ll swim in the

face of its futility.

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

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Filed under Poetry, Southern Constellations

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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Filed under Poetry