Tag Archives: unfortunate

Pockets With Holes

‘Cause I’ve broken bones for you
And for you only
I make money but we just can’t
Keep this home…

~*~

i don’t ever want

the world to fall apart

just because of avaricious eyes

begging for fool’s gold

i’ll burn all the money i have

and let my house collapse

into a decrepit debris

if that means i could keep you

because this isn’t all about

shiny pennies and diamonds

that we try to mine under our flesh

and yet only unearth coal

this is about all those prospects

we threw to the faraway moon

how our unfortunate fates

aren’t spun into twisted infinity signs

yes, our mouths may be empty

but it doesn’t mean our hearts have to be

so set your faith past obscuring greed

and cease bleeding for the sake of worthless riches.

~*~

Give me your heart
And your hand
And we can run
(You’re my hope)…

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La Bella Fantasia

“I swear that I can hear you in the wind…”

~*~

little phantasmic phantoms dance about

growing flowers at the garden of my mind

waiting to pluck out each bluebell and daisy

to fashion the wreaths into something kind

the playful zephyr is a fair weather friend

lulling each berceuse to sleep until the end

orbit sending me high into the atmosphere

but i won’t fall, no—i have nothing to fear

listening to the cherry blossoms that hide

in the boroughs where there’s a tinkerbell bride

and the mystical creatures would understand

with every speck of dust, a magic that enchants

.

but the delphi hearts and oracular tongues

speak of stories and brier thorns that selfishly clung

to innocent naivete still stubbornly preserved

though only to the pristine youth that it deserves

the wily eyes staring into the darkness osiris

as the nettles grow wild prevent cogent dreams

they scoured the atlas looking for eternal citadels

the nondescript pangs unaware of incarnate bevels

shrines that i pray to now submerged in irascible sins

incoherent adages leaving bruised indentations within

will the pixies be daunted? will the elves repatriate?

Quietly accepting the moiety of their unfortunate fates?

.

but beneath the black and white of underground paradise

is a fair place for scathing asters and aureole mirth alike

beyond the curlicues of charcoal smoke that paint the stars

a gossamer love decays, recording a dictaphone of past wars

in an imbroglio of lotuses, past the wafting scent of sandalwood

on the horizon, a transit of venus, a crescent smiling platitude

thoughts as crystal clear as seaglass, reflect candid illusions

show a bouquet from the spectres, a plethora of guiling ruminations

amid the taste of camphor and lead, i return to lacklustre reality

wondering and pondering when i’ll get lost again in my crafted fantasy.

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