| Nothing To Repair |
[Nov. 27th, 2009|06:05 am] |
I have a sinners heart, I drag my way slowly home cursing my tired bones (a million transgressions echoing alongside the creaks that footsteps make on this wooden floor in this abandoned home)
I own a simple heart I know the things you need, I know you'll make it right (there's nothing here to repair when there is no rain, just leaves falling desperately from trees [from the heavens they descend and drain from me my disbelief])
I've got broken bones and constellations that don't understand my cordial convalescence and you're not willing to stay so I'll stay clean and pray while this divine fire burns gray (I know the things you need, I hope you'll get me right)
I have a sinners heart and I know that you'll devour me
As a side note, all three of the poems I just posted are still works in progress, with huge room for change. Most of the time when I post they're completed or virtually completed. Not so much on these three. I changed them considerably just when I posted them, I'll probably rework them quite a bit more still..... |
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| Mannequins |
[Nov. 27th, 2009|05:47 am] |
Prudent Desire show me your face in this artificial light (the only place where we can feel safe anymore)
We are all so capable of such egregious inhumanity We treat each other with such dark disregard spawned from a frightful fear enduring individual tears as if they were nothing more than faceless mannequins (frozen memories left in the corners of the dark, as statues of divinity monuments to all that we have been and what we can no longer be)
Glory to purity and this holy heart, so rare, like a lotus drifting blissfully on the ocean after a careful kiss (We are digging our own graves) Here, are the things I need, Here, are the things I keep (Every metaphor for chaos that exists and every bit of beauty spawned from that which is abstract could give birth to symmetry if we'd just believe)
But the elegy lingers (We let hope slip through our grimy fingers) |
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| Returning To A Familiar Home |
[Nov. 27th, 2009|05:33 am] |
This farewell tastes sweet and I still feel the placid loneliness that drifted in after your goodbye
but somehow it is still truth that isolation is safety, being alone, is being deep within the calm and peaceful heart of a ghost
Your eyes discarded me and drowned words in the notes and proverbs
I sought destruction while snow fell with paragon patience: determined to descend onto my warm skin and though I breathe then choke on this I have learned to be perfect and to exhale Winter, and desire in a single breath (you are a joyous goodbye, sending me silently back to this sacred safety)
So Sanctity the countless wrinkles in your skin are just insuperable smiles (Sorrow is just another Sin) |
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| The Seasons Are Soluble |
[Nov. 25th, 2009|02:48 am] |
The city lights they shine in a distance that is palpable and the fire cracks the trees have lost their leaves (lost them in the cold)
We are all haunted by ghosts crawling through our memories (caught by the months as they pass and we leave a little more behind with every forward step) So if you feel like now is the time to fall then I'll let you go
Your affluent heart bursts with generosity and something that I can not understand yet though I try I am unable to synthesize hope and pain into something that you'd understand
November is white and tempting winter to come quietly into its fallacy while December is gray, painted by numbers and selected memories (I feel better when I get some sleep I'll feel better when the winter's gone) |
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| An Atom In The Sun |
[Oct. 24th, 2009|03:10 am] |
We still search for some significance in the stars, still stay in the breast of today cutting words cautiously carving out laughter and wonder (another distraction to save us from ourselves)
You can leave, you can go parade what worth you have in the streets of Elysium where names are blood and meaning is the house that shelters you from love and hate, (ain't it good to be back home)
We are creatures of uncertainty but there are lights dangling in the sky impossibly beautiful, seemingly static amidst the chaos of our lives, a piece of perfection pleading for recognition (Truth is demonised and stigmatised relegated to a convenience only to be touched when all that is is gone)
So remember that with our thoughts we create the world (We are born to die) |
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| Rough Mind (Condemned) |
[Oct. 24th, 2009|02:13 am] |
An old mans eyes burn quietly (wearing his drink on his sleeve) Desperate despair driving the last shards of sanity away from the fray, and we all say that we can't stay, I can't stay even though you've lost yourself, (So is anybody waiting at all for you 'cause it's time for something, time to tell, time to wander around in the lost and found, to sit alone and drown)
We are all guilty of ignoring eachothers pain, a universal transgression (indifference to suffering) we defer responsibility, compassion, to silence, give away worth to the hopeful, hopelessly bleeding under the rain and dispose of our shame in the depths of ignorance
and I can't find you anymore, you've faded away lost your humanity in the mirror of fear where what is tired and misunderstood is dead to young eyes
Whispers swirl and move about until they become thoughts dressing silence in sin (Is anybody waiting at all for us, when we are ignorantly hopeless, on our long way down) |
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| Wandering Refuge II |
[Aug. 20th, 2009|03:43 pm] |
My mind is weary, my body is tangled with time and air, my spirit is tired, exhausted by existence
Desire digs a grave for what worth is left of our ghosts (convertibles and chaos caress eachother, while we consume truth and justice) yet, disgust is no remedy, disdain for humanity may be justified, but justice, it does not create
Misery is sold to somnambulist strangers as if it was some precious commodity (We lie and lie and lie and lie, we dream and dream and dream, we cry and cry and cry and cry,
We love what is above, yet loathe reality so easily)
We are so worthy of contempt that at times it can seem difficult to justify our superficial existence (I don't belong in this world) |
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| Wandering Refuge I |
[Aug. 20th, 2009|03:43 pm] |
There is silence and I don't know where I belong (Do you know where you belong?) just that I want to erase this capacious despair and replace it with safety (precarious though it will be in its infancy)
and everything just burns to the ground, it all goes from beautiful noise to mournful whispers both merely vain and clumsy attempts to become everlasting echoes (like light leaving its star to find your eyes)
But chaos careens off of your fingers, fingers like knives, denying desire and destroying destiny (I'd cut doubt and caress gravity but what's the use when all I have is silence?) |
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| Endure |
[Jun. 19th, 2009|05:47 am] |
Touch me with disease and let loose your thoughts (let logic illuminate loneliness and the wisdom granted to those suffering solitude)
Honour looks emaciate and haunted by betrayal and memories of past glory
and yet you continue to vehemently insist on selfish neutrality clinging to superficiality and the edge of reason (somehow still alive, but suffocating surreptitiously) |
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| Inhale |
[Jun. 19th, 2009|05:47 am] |
Crawl towards me like a wounded spider and with ostebsibly open arms I will wait for you (wait to crush you with a blunt tomorrow and terrify you with today)
Are we like you say, just creatures of decay, animals consumed by lust, and doomed to dust? (We are simple slaves silently slipping further from serenity
We gasp and choke on artificial love)
Squirm away from this hope, writhe powerfully as you struggle to breathe because I don't believe any of these things you've said to me to be true So sweet women I'll be honest, I am "miserable," how are you?
In the ocean there is a panacea for our humanity and your inimical desperation (there, the quiet sound of water will cover us and force placidity down our throats) |
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| Deconstruction |
[Jun. 19th, 2009|05:47 am] |
Youth disappears so rapidly We stumble so often leading lives of desperate silence and we scrape away at the edges of Omega with Art and Dance, with hungry Kisses and Conversation, we shower it with tears and wasted years
and as we age, we become quiet, humble in our acceptance of the grim darkness We mumble truth and lies as decay breeds desperation
How shattered we can be when the sun rises, quietly illuminating crimes of youth and we crumble elegantly, carefully, as if we were purposely disassembling ourselves in slow motion
O, how quietly we will scream.
Changed the last three lines from "Oh,/How slowly/We move" I believe that I shall keep the change. |
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| Contempt |
[Jun. 19th, 2009|05:44 am] |
You are naked, gently worthless, tasteless to my tongue, foolishly vain, idiotically consumed by the drifting and meaningless thoughts of others (your silicone mind murders desire)
your body is vacant save for a plastic heart, desperate to be wanted, utterly shildish and repulsive (yet i let you stay, let your lips have their way)
In the dark I feel nothing and in the dark I pray to stay (you're nobody girl, you're a nobody girl) |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 31st, 2009|06:31 am] |
The morning wind flows past me and it carries stories that will force your eyes to open and it tastes bittersweet like compassion and change
I've lost my way for the millionth time So I'll open up my arms and say "My heart is still blind, yet still the sun shines on this grey man, this moving clay."
Dispassionate words travel towards you as I open my mouth and there is something inside that resembles satisfaction (My isolation is desire) |
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| Naked Lights |
[May. 31st, 2009|06:31 am] |
How terrifyingly beautiful we are, like summer air we tumble about colliding occasionally with certainty and force, how cautiously chaotic we are, when our eyes close and our lips touch (how ravenous we become under the suns warmth)
I felt you slide silently, somewhere into the sunset as a tender gasp escaped your throat and you let me ravish your body with quiet determination. There, in those moments I drowned in you and your body
Then like the northern lights you slipped away.
You were never meant to be held (like your red dress, your heart looked better tossed upon the floor) |
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| Untitled |
[May. 18th, 2009|03:36 am] |
I see a beautiful face, features carved out carefully by angels with faith and serenity Eyes that beg for lust, lips innocent and tender I see that strangers face and I turn away
I heard there was a miracle dancing downtown in the bitter rain but I am drowning in the futures darkness sinking further with each bleak second that ticks by
I descend into my thoughts, letting the hollow voices float by while the night branches out, spreads its winds (savagely blowing my memories away)
Tragic stitches on the silent fool covering a body disfigured and emaciated, continuously cut, by the endless distance between birth and beauty
Not that anyone reads this, but i feel the need to point out that i had a great deal of difficulty with the last paragraph. I rephrased, moved things around, changed individual words, etcetera... I changed the word that is currently birth about 10 times before i settled on birth. If anyone has any constructive criticism on the last part, it would most certainly be appreciated. |
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| Carving Meaning |
[May. 18th, 2009|03:36 am] |
Burn slowly, fingertips like ashes (meant to blow away rapidly in the wind) let the inertia of my desire bring you to peace (this place where we forget about time, plastic people and sultry sins)
Shadows are answers, ghosts of what we can not say, reflections of facades (we've lost our way)
Breathe carefully, lungs like crucifixes (meant to be nailed to our wooden hearts) take your time, decay slowly, disobey and defy (swallow this lie one more time: what a perfect pill, how beautiful, this capricious kill) |
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| A Palpable Transgression |
[Apr. 8th, 2009|03:14 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | accomplished | ] |
| [ | music |
| | The Gaslight Anthem - The '59 Sound | ] | Below my memories I watched the rain kissed this stone and tossed it at the moon because these dirty blues found me a little too soon
and I drift in pieces, I breathe in fragile fragments of time (forlorn and emaciated, struggling to find inspiration in this insipid existence)
The banality of your heart(s) causes me to close my eyes; eyes exhausted by starlight, and torn asunder by the air I breathe (air so mundane, wasted by ungrateful lungs)
Now I'm struggling to placate this painful ambivalence searching for worth, for tangible meaning in this ghost called fate (she kisses my lips with haunting slowness and there is nothing here but palatable fire consuming ether, awkwardly effacing grace, satisfyingly uprooting sanity)
We are transient, furtively fragile, famously inconsequential, simple fools crawling futilely through echoes We are just bitter tempests offering an ephemeral scream then fading away into the force of our own misplaced anguish (How like children, We fall) |
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| (no subject) |
[Feb. 26th, 2009|01:06 am] |
Snowflakes descend quietly, gently on this cloudy morning and my eyes are open so I can not dream or hold this perfect silence, just pieces of you, broken and irredeemable (like Me)
There is a constant tide of misplaced desire burning my memories while I clumsily caress your imperfect skin (alleviating the injustice of loneliness for this microscopic moment)
and yet, I remain distant I walk the streets in solitude Because I have no compass, I have no grace, I am made from archaic stones and fragile memories (I am just a body bound for bliss in another strange bed: tangled bodies writhing, burning So close, Yet so alone) |
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| Goglgothas Fallacy |
[Feb. 26th, 2009|01:00 am] |
Is there truth to these dogmatic beliefs? is this ubiquitous theology spawned from some desperate psychogenic neede? Some need to give some kind of profound meaning to each simple breath
Does one cry when one steps upon golgotha without knowing the significance of the earth that is tread upon? Or would it simply be the sadness that holds tight in each of us to the emptiness of the cosmos, the void we each attempt to fill with each breath, with each kiss, each silent word spoken in a vain attempt to sanctify the noise humming, buzzing, through the streets
I will transsubstantiate into a manifestation of disbelief, bury faith in these archaic fears beneath this seraphic allusion; promulgated by nothing more then a piece of meat and throw my heart into what little humanity I can find |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 28th, 2009|01:32 pm] |
The Breast of History can not contain my desire, or my egregious iniquities long enough to consume this prurient decision to dream, wildly, of chaos and catasrophe transforming this transient existence into a manifestation of silence and plastic placidity. It can not tame this consolidated heart that has spawned inviolable thoughts in the warm blood flowing, strangely, through hungry veins and an awakened mind
You are noble, incorrigibly beautiful, and yet irreversibly abhorrent to the senses When I wake and hear your tongue click "Tic, tock tic, tock." You have no catharsis, no way to bleed out the poisonous pain that is consuming this silence with sick serenity, you are the paradoxical panacea extending a broken hand to those who would listen (A hand that resembles silk draped over people and nations: harsh creations, abrasive to our Our stumbling serenity)
So lay down your judgments, let your crown gather dust on the warm ground, lay down in this bed of crisp dew, let me see you naked in all your splendor: Open your legs wide, and let Me dig out your soul |
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