Tag Archives: voice

sleep-talk

the break

in your voice

is like a

heart attack

i can’t

fathom why

but it

woke me up.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

electric lungs

your voice

sends goosebumps

raising up

all over my heart.

1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

Civ and Cent

I’m so deluded

By your mirror

In the stones

When I met

You, suddenly

I was alone

Wit that stabs

Souls in and

The corner wall

Words that glow

Coalesced as

It quaintly falls

The stars will

Be yours for

The taking

You look sick

But I thought

You’re faking

Floral shirts

Faded trousers

And fixed hair

What happened

To the cap boy

Without a care?

But somehow

The bloodstains

Appear better

Than your silver

Nosering and

Black sweater

A voice as soft

As linen and

Cotton pillows

You change

The pulse that

The wind billows

On blurs of

Bowling balls and

Pinball machines

Waltzing girls

That knock you

Like bowling pins

You drive me

Off the cliff and

Onto the sun

The boy with

Misadventures

And on you stun.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Dissent in Disdain

Severely mollified, a notion horrified

Just a desperate old lie desensitised

Waging another war of broken bones

Laced with gravel diamond undertones

.

Speak louder now, your voice forgotten

Echoing hollow on the empty mountain

Yet the silent screams relayed unheard

And Seraphim songs a deaf ear turned

.

Wayward tongues seeking lost advice

Turning unravel, the pocket watch cries

A burning polaroid, a sprinkle of ashes

Gods are cruel, Earth’s gravity passes

.

Eloquence lost under senseless protest

Undermined numbers clearly detested

And when our throats are clipped away

Our golden swords will voice their disdain.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

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.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry