Tag Archives: wild

Beware The Rattlebones

“It was perfectly dark, now, but the opening door disturbed the air, and I heard things rattle gently, like dry bones in thin bags, in the slight wind. Click. Clack. Click. Clack.” ~Trigger Warning; Neil Gaiman

~*~

Beware the rattlebones, my child

Who runs every hallow’s eve in the wild

Beware its sharp teeth and sharper smile

That charms like a flower and bites like a file

Beware the thin fingers and nails of green

The chants of red and whispers of mean

And trifle bones that rattle and shake

As if your own heart, it quivers and breaks

.

Beware the rattlebones, my child

For its soul is black and mind grimmer wild

When the fell night is sparse and serene

It goes click click click through the evergreen

As yonder ravens forebode a shrill cry

Still under ominous mist and past the starless sky

It thus waits, for a wandering victim to walk

Into its precarious winds so the poor one it could stalk

.

Beware the rattlebones, my child

Who treads the forest beyond the wild

As its glowing eyes of blinding white

Shall take you on with such a vicious sight

Beware the inky blood that steadfastly drips

From its mangled dry skin and stretched-out lips

Touch not the roughness of its crackled flesh

Hear not its bloodcurdling cackles, or else

.

Beware the rattlebones, my child

For it lives and breathes not only in the wild

It can sneak up to your bedroom window

And no nightlight nor blanket can make it go

But beware if it visits you as you peacefully repose

For you are chosen to be its supper close

If you do unfortunately meet the rattlebones, child, then

Run like hell, or you’ll become one of them.

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¡Viva Las Vegas!

A pretty picture but the scenery is so loud
A face like heaven catching lighting in your nightgown
But back away from the water, babe, you might drown
The party isn’t over tonight (lighting in your nightgown)
Hey, where will you be waking up tomorrow morning?
Hey, out the backdoor, goddamn but I love her anyway!

~*~

Don’t wipe off your embalmed makeup just yet

I adore you sweetheart, I’ll kiss you for a bet

Poise and irrationality’s the poison of the victim

A pretty covert movie with the lighting dim

.

Memories of a fading twisted tongue collide

Sophistication sliding off the laudanum side

And all the girls at night are making me sweat

And the boys cheer me with wolf calls of respect

.

Empty bottles of gin, dribbling off your chin

The Vegas lights are burning, all-in, and I win

Snatches of conversations swim past my ears

Saline and formaldehyde of cascading tears

.

So say what you mean, and don’t be afraid

This city is yours, take the applause you paid

It’s history, the avenue and boulevard is lined

And they’re all aching to dissect your mind

.

Every perspective approaches home so near

Nicotine stains, champagne, and stench of fear

Hijack my medal eyes and render me numb

Replace the lens of the camera, pop your gum

.

Forget the nightly cabaret, the burlesque shame

The motel room you rented absolves the blame

Dust away the contrite asbestos off your waistcoat

The caricature masks are ready for the grand show

.

We’re decomposing arrogantly in beautiful quiet messes

Girls dancing in white dresses, formidable men with roses

Foreign deaths alluding veracity, chaotic hurricane storms

Velvet lips sealed under the threat of sin, smiling in scorn

.

This night we will sink so low, so wash me away and drop the anchor

Waltzing along with secret admirers and falling asleep on a stranger

It’s a sensation in Viva Las Vegas, a scandal of grandiloquent galantine

So sit back and drink your daiquiris, you’re in for a surprise of romantic machines.

~*~

Climbing out the back door, didn’t leave a mark
No one knows it’s you, Miss Jackson
Found another victim, but no one’s gonna find
Miss Jackson, Jackson, Jackson…

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Crash and Burn

We always seem to find
A way to fuck things up
At the worst time, you know
We’ve never been the smartest
You know you could have anyone
But standing on the edge I said
I don’t want no one else…

~*~

Hey there, let’s crash and burn

This damn night is too old for the both of us

To take into consideration alive

But these stupid games are about to begin

So why don’t you pick a losing side?

Too young to die, too insane to change

Ain’t that what this city needs?

They say we’re wrong, but we’ll show them

We are the vagabonds that will lead

We’re too reckless, putting it all on the line

If there’s anything we can’t get, hell it’s all mine

We’re the wreckage of the generation to come

Kids dancing on boulevards and playing with guns

These empty mouths are way too crass

But we ain’t nothing to be defeated by victorious

So let’s pick it up straight off the sidewalk

Get out of the way, these minds are about to talk

We’re idiots maybe, as smart as bricks

But we don’t stop to think about your bullshit

Let’s go three times and then we can do it again

I can’t spell fun but I can say when

Crazy honest laughter was always the remedy

For a life of missed targets and bad candy

In lady luck and boy bucks, inciting headache riots

Working heroes and nine to five we are not

Should we feel sorry? Should we care?

Let’s burn hotel buildings down if we dare

Should we simply change? Where does it all end?

Kill off the clock with wasted hours we spend

But our skins and bones were already corrupted

At an early age, our mindsets are polluted

With nothing but garbage dreams and ambitions of junk

So I say screw all this shit, let’s aim to flunk

Sorry mom and dad, I can’t stand on your shoulders

If all it does is make me fall and break as I’m feeling taller

Sorry to the ones who say we’re better off this way

What a shame for the good opportunities you can never take

So yeah, we’ve got a million things to gain if we get it right

But we’ll miss the addicting adrenaline and the thrill of the fight

We have nothing to lose, nothing to prove, but everything to have

And fucking things up has always been what we are good at.

~*~

They say it’s time to grow up
And stop with these foolish games
But I say they’re wrong
She says go, go, go!
I don’t want to take it slow
There’s plenty of time for us to finally get it right
Why don’t we crash and burn tonight?

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Wild One

It’s been a year, kid.

I don’t have to constantly check up on you anymore, and be paranoid whether you are still breathing as you slumber, unknowing, naive, innocence in its most delicate form. I can only count your heartbeats, slow and steadily warm, whispering reassurances to me, making me believe still in a transient hope on a world so lost and pitifully dark. All the nights I’ve had to give up, interrupted sleep I’ve had to bide my tired mind by, the erstwhile activities and further indulgences I’ve had to forego to help in taking care of you, the stress, the weeping, the spewed bodily fluids, the horrid diapers, the sacrifices ventured and risks undertaken, everything and nothing all at once…I suppose it was all worth it in the end.

You’re still here, after all, breathing, laughing, crying. Living. One year in. It’s crazy to think just how much has changed, how everything has been elicited by insignificance, how everything slows down yet speeds up at the same time, nerves racing clockwork ticks, how much has changed, how far you have grown. It only feels like a trembling fingertip away when you were a newborn infant delivered from the hospital, and, lying there, ensconced in white silken sheets and resting with umber eyes wide shut, I saw a part of the universe that was apt with the stars in the sky. I basked in the warmth of someone who doesn’t have to be arrogant and jaded like the rest of the heartless horizons, a soul, that was a diamond moon, uncarved, pristine, an enigma. An incandescent light that catches the sparkle in every worthwhile heart. I left the room dazed that day, with ink all over my hands, holding a crumpled piece of paper, unsure of my own senses, pensive and ocean-deep.

Admittedly, I’m not the best babysitter. Sometimes I’m clumsy and end up panicking amid bloodstains and scarlet bumps. Sometimes I get vexed and irritated by your inability to act and your constant incessant shrieking, for heaven knows what reason. Sometimes I snap at you for your tantrums and for the things I know are not under your control. Most of the time I don’t know what the hell I’m even doing when I hold you. I know I’m a child-hating misanthrope that doesn’t take any shit from any other snot-nosed bratty brat that dare crosses my path, and I should be a choking hazard, kept fifty miles away from any person under 5 years old. But you are the exception.

Your shrieking laughter trumps all the crying and wailing I’ve endured from you. Your adorable cooing and chubby tottering alike, the fact that I was there for your initial steps, your first word (“Wa-ta.”), the numerous milestones that can’t be replaced by a million million-dollar paintings. The jubilance and uplift your cloudy childish curiosity banishes my demons temporarily and ties my emotions to a raspberry red balloon, sends me shimmering against your diamond moon, providing me an ephemeral glow, enough to get me though the day. You make me this incredibly maudlin and histrionic, hell, not everyone has the ability to do such a thing. And yes, I may have lost my room when you arrived, true enough, but I found a home in you.

To my sister’s chubby little child, stay wild and have fun, not only in your jungle themed party (which somehow has a clown?), but in this jungle of a life as well. True enough that your untainted whims may not last forever, but the memories remain like butterflies in my tongue, fluttering, tinting my lips with chromatic stained glass artworks, tasting of fairy dust and sweet sugary candy and an indistinguishable distinct bitter undertone, a hueful transfer with every cuddle and pinch and peck. You’ve got no reason to be sad, you need no reason to be happy, which is why you’re smiling all the time. You’ve got many people who love you unconditionally, so beat your chest and swing on the vines, you’ve got a lot to roar about. Don’t grow up too soon now. You deserve that much, at least.

Happy birthday, Gianni-ya.

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Street Rage Youth and Genocide Games

If you wanted to set me free
Why the fuck wouldn’t
You say something?
See, I was just over seventeen
May the poison set me free…

~*~

They denied us of sane

I reached for a gold gun

As the aisled preachers

Tried to stop me and ran

This is street rage rising

Against the tidal rivalries

And the jilted best friends

Stalk past crosses calvary

Cherry bombs, acne skins

Vans with USA flag prints

Anarchists for conformity

Stupid stunts within stints

Psychopaths cried to bed

Loners waiting to be wed

Doctors sick in their head

Politicians with tapes red

Modern anxiety attacking

Oedipal boy, daddy issues

Basketball rounds, on ice

Plastic surgery in fissures

And on the autumn quarter

Kids learn to taste their kill

Selling mother and fathers

For pleasure, lies, and swill

Drugs on NC-17 nightclubs

Hookers choked on fishnet

Stockings, five AM Jack D’s

On the backdoor of the bet

Watching black/white films

Drive-in theatres for a thrill

Choke on popcorn and lies

Both buttery, slippery skills

Screwing in elevator shafts

Driving to underage parties

Crashing, fatalities smiling

A nowhere road trip leased

It sucked the peppermints

Right out of their ideology

As shirts ballooned away

And lost their own gravity

Mutilated wrists, it is the

Latest fashion statement

Eyeliners and fermenting

Of vomit on the pavement

Paint Mona Lisa in frowns

Losing control and sanity

Lives on the murder scene

Polaroid deaths they tally

Burn down houses for fun

Destroy the place they call

Home, kiss the pendulum

Razor, and it began to fall

Communists and yankees

Alike, line up for the show

Of a cannibalistic society

And idled massacre glow

I’m the leader of parading

Onto the suicidal carnival

Lines of Peter Piper past

And lead souls genocidal

To their ultimate demises

Of convulsions and blood

May cyaniding be painless

Of earthquakes and flood

But I won’t regret burying

The casualties with graves

Nameless stones careless

Of the foolish youth’s rage

On propane hearts I stand

Swim on oceans of spikes

And the blood on my hands…

Shit, I hate what it tastes like.

~*~

Oh no, please don’t abandon me
Mother, father, I love you so
But this is just me disguised as me
I’m the killer who burned your home
This home! What the fuck is a home?
This is the street youth rising up!

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Flint and Flame

You are the match

That burned the whole city down.

The person who danced on the ashes

Of the ruined smouldering town

You were that blazing

Decade-long wildfire

That caused evacuations

That ate civilisations

That tore down society

And tallied a thousand casualties

With your tempers high

Above both degrees

Celsius and Fahrenheit

And your smokescreen of shadows

Obscuring the sunlight’s glow

Your embers snarled angrily

And lashed at those who dared

To touch their fragile paper skin

On your dangerous beauty

And they coughed up blood,

Inhaling charcoal fumes that

Rose above you in softest

Of intricate laced whorls,

Your gruesome work of art.

A haphazard elegance,

That you were.

A blending of tangerine and

Xanthus and azure and all

Colours invisible to the naked

Eye, birthing your kindle red.

You were luminescence;

A hopeful light of blinding hopeless

You were warmth;

A radiating heat of scorched blisters

Every part of you, flammable

Every part of you, sparking a pyre

You were life, and death, alike

Black of soot, white of light

Left to their hands to decide

Which blade they shall use

On the fates they will deride.

Yet; only one choice did it take

And you melted steel and flesh

Ignited into fueled madness

Laughing at the agony you behest

Burn it all, you crackled, glaring

No survivors, incessant destroying

The oceans of Pacific had barely

Made a dent on your aberrating

It was as if fate was on your team,

So you laughed and fought back

But gritted at your diminishing

Against the soothing cold attack

So you flared, and flickered,

You sizzled, and simmered

You were truant then tame,

For a moment you won the game.

But the cyclone stormed suddenly,

The rains fell triumphant at your loss

Your infamous last words faded

It’s…magnificent…chaos…

Your pillar of fire flared even higher,

Against the tide of the cruel water

The magnum opus of your fame,

A final swan song to your name.

You dwindled and you darkened,

You were nothing more than a stain,

And you were finally put out…

But your damage will forever remain.

You were the rampaging fire

That burned everything down

With your conflagrating hate

I watched it all, the annihilation

Of an innocent nation, and its

Own rebirth, in a phoenix state

You were the match that

Burned the whole city down.

Until everything was too late

And mercy, for I was the rough surface

Who struck so carelessly

Against your phosphorus nitrate.

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A Standing Ovation

Hear ye, hear ye!

The excited man fumbled for the microphone

And started to speak in an elated tone

He announced to the world that he had it all

As he stood proudly on his gargantuan stage

But then the stage began to crumble and fall

Because of the crowd’s sudden burst of rage

He implored them to stop, he tried in vain to beg

But his faint pleas got overtaken by all the screaming instead

So they shout “Get off the stage, you pompous fool!

And ” Go to hell, you miserable old tool!”

As the bloodthirsty beasts began to tear him apart

No one noticed a single voice, lost in their steady cadence

“You may have everything,” the figure uttered as he started to depart

“But one thing that you’ll never have is the approval of the audience.”

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