Tag Archives: trace

i can do shameless too (and this one goes out to you)

As we wake up in your room
Your face is the first thing I see
The first time I’ve seen love
And the last I’ll ever need
You remind her that your future
Would be nothing without her…

~*~

a s h a m e d

of violent emotions

branded on the

underside of my

numb, petulant brain,

making dizzy patterns

and dainty waves

and tracing cicatrices

of infantile graves,

returning to plague

what i always confused

and refused to admit…

y e s  i  c a n  f e e l

as the argent feathers

on your hair are effulgent,

dwelling ebony shades

escaping the delight of

my aspired clairvoyance.

they spite me for being

no stranger to the beggar

c a l l e d  l o v e

for always greeting it

rather fastidiously and

tossing a merciful nickel

whenever i chance upon it

on a bustling boulevard,

instead of spitting and

sneering condescendingly

and holding back my

burning tongue to trip it.

am i cruel for being kind?

dear, you’re a halogen

h a l l u c i n a t i o n

and i am but a yonder

sabotaged daydream

and i shall keep on falling

victim to your musings,

like a burning ochre moth

to the sickly sweet fragrance

of the kerosene oil…

so, is that truly my solitary

t r a n s g r e s s i o n ?

for being able to accept

what i’ve always constantly

abhorred and denied,

only to discover in denouement

that i’m the only fool that’s

crashing unsteady bridges

and drowning in the process—?

i shall not be craven of

the grander bouts of unknown,

for i’ve my own armament

tucked and hidden away

in a four-chambered dungeon;

ready to slash and shear

at the abstract canvas which

they all mocked as an

i n s u l t i n g  a r t w o r k .

you are not incarcerated,

but i am yours perpetual to

black out to the moon

and i will return from my

stratosphere holiday carrying

a souvenir star, lifting

the light to you, so that we

will never have to be

a s h a m e d.

~*~

If you kiss me goodnight
I’ll know, everything is alright
Second chances won’t leave us alone
Won’t leave us alone
‘Cause there’s faith in love…

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Does The City Sleep If Everyone’s Awake?

Drop every pretense, drown every sense you own
For the girl that you love, girl you loathe
Insistent pretext, so what does that make god?
To the girl that you love, girl you loathe…

~*~

Follow home the darkness in the midst of distorted lies

A bellicose pretence that overshadows the most jaded of eyes

Entering, surrendering the only control left to be held back

Indignant morose affability surreptitiously painted black

.

For the girl that you love left her heart in the shadows

She’s keeping it there locked tight and burning the evidence

And the boy of your dreams has a nightmare in his head

He keeps a musket under his pillow for such a circumstance

.

Secrets dripping at the tip of their tongue, are you getting tired

Ain’t it so pretty, the way their drunken minds are wired?

The curtain’s coming down, but the burlesque act continues

And the naked audience and all the masked actors are in on the ruse

.

The flickering streetlamps may not last until the end of sunset

And you may have lost your empty wallet stumbling in a cabaret

Taking profound philosophies from barkeeps, pouring another drink

Don’t know if that sleaze three tables over winked or just blinked

.

Follow home the oncoming intrusion of light in the haze of inebriation

An avaricious pretence that promptly overpowers any realistic temptation

Surrendering the only control that wasn’t there to hold back in the first place

Coruscating affiliations underhandedly leaving hearts without a single trace.

~*~

The girl that you love, girl that you love
Girl that you love knows you don’t
Followed her, followed her
Followed her, followed her home…

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the disconnect

i want badly

to reconnect the dots

line by line, and

form a better image

but i guess we ran out

of points to trace

so i guess this is all

just pointless.

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Head in the Clouds

one day, i’ll fish a cloud

from the ocean of the glacial sky

and perhaps have a taste of

the candy blue firmament nigh

i’ll be spinning the wisps

between my playful fingers and

over my stained yet smiling teeth

oh, rain must taste so sweet

or maybe i’ll use the clouds to plumpen

my empty carnation silk pillowcase

and let the final quaint drizzles evanesce

along with my pastel dreams, leaving not a trace.

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Cloudburst Cogitations #2: Petrichor

petrichor

your sweet

traces of redolence

reminds me

of a nuanced

hope and innocence.

🌈🌈🌈

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