Tag Archives: warm

wanderlust

you are

raindrops

trickling into

my blood

.

the sight of

the new world

after a long

tiring voyage

.

rusty chain links

rattling against

the street youth’s

scuffed shoes

.

five thousand

ways to say

maybe i like

the way you are

.

warm sunset

trapped in

a mason jar

and buried

.

an innocent

kind of swear

the one that

draws a blush

.

the humming

at the back of

a sad song

in b flat minor

.

a ticklish

kind of green

sticky clumps

of feline fur

.

the start of

a good movie

a back-alley

kind of kiss

.

a saturday

forgotten

a leap year

birthday blues

.

argonaut dreams

and cosmic hail

and candle wax

and old poetry

.

you are all

these things

and more, but

you are not

.

h e r e

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heatseeker

heatseeker

form the flames

with your tongue

ashes to ashes

guns to guns

.

feel the wick

running down

fractured spines

gentle warmth

barely noticeable

.

all before the

final sound

of phosphate

crashing against

rougher edges

.

forms second

thoughts, the thrill

of reckless light

find your waxen lover

and i g n i t e

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Filed under Poetry

Dog Day Afternoon

After classes, for two hours and a half

Mind’s numb from static words and archaic lessons

Afternoons flourish, a lazy inner laugh

Stretch with the palm trees, kick up grass and stones

.

By the steps of humanities, a sepia snapshot

Of passersby and busy souls and stray pets that roam

Cars going nowhere, blue skies that time forgot

Weariness that dissipates, shaken off from rusted bones

.

After class, of a day’s worth and a half

Thoughts dazed with melancholy, still wandering alone

Afternoons effloresce, a warmer fullstop

Walk with the dusty sunset, I guess it’s time to go home.

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Cloud District

Soft thrums of raindrops

Against scarlet canvas

Crushed flower petals

Bleeding out pink on

Oceans of grey puddles

Pooling on the asphalt.

.

Shorter days, lonelier nights

Blue shoes over fresh graves

Cracks on the warm concrete,

Forgotten in the solstice midst

And a song stuck between silence

Of a boy lost under his umbrella.

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red as the day she lost her sunset

my pen ceased to move

involuntarily to your soul,

but darling my thoughts have

since never stopped dancing

ever since that fateful summer

when you collided it into motion.

my faith may be a reckless phantom

but my eyes are your scarlet letter

and i’ll always see the world for how

you built it according to your word

of eloquence, of madness, of every sigh;

and i’ll never forget the melodies

that embraced all the darkest parts

Of my liquid nightmares, and pulled

them back slowly into the sunlight

until the nights felt warm with hope again.

i’d call you an angel, if it isn’t overused

and i think you already know that anyway—

but always know this to be the truth:

you may not always be the last thing on my mind,

but darling, you will always be the first.

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in[flu]ence

I have the fever all warmed up

For the poor sick little head

They’ll cry as they sleep, though

Still refused to get out of bed

I’ve got the fever all warmed up

For the screaming of the choir

I only caused a quiet grey smoke

But he still sets himself on fire.

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Filed under Poetry

Musical Musings

As you cry in silver rings and pose
In a second you’ll be high and in the clouds alone
I never thought I’d see the day
But I see stars around your face
Just like we’re in the movies and you’re scared…

~*~

Music comfortably pouring in my ears

Of dulcet lullabies and scratchy guitar riffs

.

Keeping me warm, tones ever so familiar

Like an oversized threadbare pastel sweater

.

Like stirred english breakfast tea with no sugar

Like a burst of drizzling rain in the middle of summer

.

Like pleasant catnaps, huddled under soft covers

Like ocean waves cresting on coastal barriers

.

Like million-dollar paintings over the moon’s craters

Like a necklace of stars, quaintly twinkling as it scatters

.

Like fever dreams, syrupy and floral, quinine waters

Like a springtime frolic spent floating down winding rivers

.

Like nightmares and cold terrors and peter pan nevers

Like forgotten phantoms left faded for a lost lover

.

Like all the nostalgic memories still keeping me together

Like one existence that’s forever changed for the better

.

Tranquil music that feels comforting, familiar, and safe

And when everything’s simply too much, it’s my only escape.

~*~

Step back, I can’t believe
Do the math, the sky will fall anyways
Trust me, this is a blessing and a curse
This much I can’t deny…

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Dry Spell

So it’s over? I didn’t realise
It’s so much colder, but it was no surprise
Did you ever get to know me?
‘Cause it has never been so plain to see
And when you say you won’t forget me
Well I can tell you that’s untrue…

~*~

Laughter, that’s all it was, plain and simple, but to me it was a taste of a thousand pink cloud summers spinning overhead the aegan firmament, all at once. Those sunshine glances melting dulcet like sugar cubes in freshly-brewed coffee and lingering softly in dusky southern winds, trailing a fragrant aroma of a verdant fruit orchard freshly blossoming in spring afternoons. Captivated ears perked up as clumsy legs tangled together in a giggling mess of auburn hair and sapphire glances, and the most quiescent sliver of blushing stardust glimmered above it all in enamoured amusement; our faraway symphonic orchestra humming about a foggy eventide streetlight dalliance, concealed under burning shadows on a shivering autumn gloom. Laughter, that’s all it was, elegant and intricate, tasting of an effulgent fireworks display of blueberry ice cream and bubblegum-stained candy floss and red velvet chocolate, all detonating and delicately fizzling out like an exquisite festival in my minty tongue. But the ephemeral seasons have come and gone like drizzling October rain, and that was my final winter’s chill. I don’t want to feel warm ever again.

~*~

And I’ve worn out all the reasons
To keep on knocking at your door
Could be the changing of the seasons
But I don’t love you anymore…

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Filed under Prose

frostbites

My head is stripped just like a screw
That’s been tightened too many times
When I think of you, when I think of you
I will shield you from the waves if they find you
I will protect you, I will protect you
Just tell me, tell me, tell me I
I am the only one even if it’s not true…

~*~

love,

my mouth

is cold

from speaking

about these

sweet curses

in futile

hopes that you

will listen

to them; or to me.

there’s been

a million

dead voices

before me, of

poets and

troubadours

and musicians

all of them

so prestigious

and all hopelessly

asking for your

heart on a

silver platter.

for they have had

a taste, and now

they want

more, and they

want it all,

and i am one

of them.

so come morning

take me in,

hold me tight

until i die, and give

my ghost

to the grey stars

colliding with

the lacerated horizon.

this distance just

makes me

tormented and

miasmatic, but it’s

for the sake

of your taciturn

sunlight, and

i’m already scorched.

for you’re so

beguiling, love…

won’t you

make me feel

warm?

~*~

I’m here at the beginning of the end
Oh, the end of infinity with you
I’m done with having dreams
The thing that I believe
Oh, you drain all the fear from me…

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Failing Light (One Hundred Sleepless Nights)

Do you still love me? I am dying to know
Or did you forget what we shared?
Out of sight, out of mind, I was never even there…

~*~

Above anything else, I would let you bury me tonight.

The stars do not weep in the presence of the moon. Hearts wish not to rend themselves apart and souls no longer magically turn to gold simply because of your silver lining. Oceans remain a mystery, and space remains a final frontier, only left for your lips to discover, and for mine to wonder. I’m fully aware that I wouldn’t chase shadows. You know very well that you wouldn’t hurt the darkness. Nothing else makes sense anymore, but irrationality itself.

Do I mind? Would you care? There is no mercy left to be scavenged in these cold, lifeless hands of ours; hanging by a diaphanous thread, desperately raring to furtively unravel. But I won’t leave. I won’t let you down again. I won’t let this skin be filled with scars that tell no tales, occupied with hurt that leads to blind dead ends, embraced with an eloquent love that never existed. These are but synesthetic bouquets of eternity, laid in an empty grave for the unborn, wilting, wilting, wilted. Only you are the darling evergreen; fragrant, flourishing, faded.

Your voice is the exquisite cadence with which my pulse chooses to hum. My blood dances elegantly at the incipient sound of your hello, and it dwindles into a soft lamenting waltz when that final goodbye echoes, an ethereal lullaby that no deity nor universe can fathom, but it keeps me up from midnight diminuendo until the morning crescendo, wretched by my own asthenic humanity. You are lissome and restless by your personal cozen design. I am revered synthetically in my own chemical lassitude. We are clashing and colliding in the reckless throes of a gossamer accident, writing a halcyon tragedy.

But dear, keep your summery thoughts free of winter miasma. Worry not the deceptive haze of your alabaster reveries, don’t mind the labyrinthine obscurance of my obsidian nightmares, and never fear their contemptuous amalgamation, for I’ll take all of them far away from you, beyond the reach of birthed supernovae and black holes, so you may carry on saving astral symphonies with your lungs, and I can take my last fated exhale with a mellifluent memory. Your bed may be worn-out, but I’ll keep myself warm on the traced outlines you left. And I’ll keep on sleeping. And I’ll keep on dreaming. And I’ll keep on waiting for you to wake me up.

Until then, immortal repose is mine. And yours is immortal repose.

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Filed under Prose