a mockery of my heart.
And my head now a fog,
from the rose colored glasses
that you placed on my face
glued to my sight
I know no truth
and I beg,
beg to know why.
Why did you even bother
my foolish misguided heart.
You're better than that.
A soulmate is rare
you are blind
to red devilish pain
that will engulf your heart.
You are now
one whom I couldn't wish I never met.
For you destroyed me
with your apathy,
lack of thought.
I cry I hurt,
I scream your name.
nothing but a silent ear;
You're better than that.
When you are broken
and on the ground,
screaming for the truth;
I will meet you there.
Reality captured in
these sullen eyes
that encompass the passing
Days of time, like petals on a flower.
Whittled people pass
through the assembly lines
one after another, whispering
sweet words about that green angel,
only but a devil in a papery disguise.
Those magical moments of suspense
and mystery, deconstructed into
the sciences of this world.
Life has not flavor anymore.
Perhaps the smoke that
ascends from your tiring joint
will imbibe these days
with a little wonder.
But once those molecules
lose their smoke curled smiles,
life turns back to grey.
saturates these dull days.
World peace is on the verge of now,
but what about the most important peace: that of the soul.
Some eyes have turned backwards,
but all need to see the escape.
Society is a masochist
that emanates fear,
and we conform to it.
Change comes at the disillusionment
of eternity. Love is synonymous
with melancholia. Or insanity.
But us poets play with words
to keep ourselves insane
because we discovered that
poetry kills the pain
I want to fix myself
Gather up the pieces
Work it all out
And solve my problems
Catch these butterflies
And control them
Stand up and face
These fears that constrain me
Ground the nervous shaking
Of this vessel of mine
Cut out the helplessness
And tattoo over the past
Mistakes and regrets
Faults and wrong intents
I've admitted and been shamed
But learnt lessons all the same
No one will ever forget
And forgiveness takes time
So I fell and scarred
My mind and conscious
I want peace
I want a brand new start
To run away and be
The person I aspire in my heart
I fell behind on life
Chasing society as it passed me by
Career and money
Trying to keep up, keep face
Someone else kicked me down
And held my fate in their hands
I needed that job so bad
My desperation was the motivation
The reference never got written
And I never got the chance
I need peace
I want freedom
I chase the life of content
To have no guilt or worries
I got lost
Still stuck finding the way
And a little part of me
Gives up everyday
I saw a hunter by a country road,
In tandem with me he sailed as I drove.
His hoody-head set monkish to the soil
Conjured up music so soundful, sacred,
And I unmoving over a tired flesh—
Coloured vehicle felt naked and dead
For he so saintly robed and dressed to kill
In the colours of the sky prayed with wings,
My harrier, his eyes cleansed purity and gold
While mine unsightly piebald pale and blue.
But want of food dovetailed two craving
Creatures, yet, over fed I felt rusty
Below his steely hunger and what saving
Grace God might offer either mice or men.
Nervous. Boot heels click clack up steps. Walk around back.
Step in. People in pockets everywhere. Swerve straight to cooler.
Take a beer. Cracks open with crisp click. Drink drink drink. Ellipse of friends block out world.
Finish beer. Talking a little louder now. Confidence enough to walk to cooler
alone and grab more beers. See Steph and stop to chat. Move on. Keep on drinking the whole way back.
Two and a half beers and I’m starting to feel it. The excitement, the loosening of social limits. The loosening of myself. Boy whose name starts with a “C” but I just can’t remember starts talking to us. He’s kind of cute.
My fourth beer drains down my throat and I’m laughing at a joke. I’m friendly, people are friendly. The world is all kindness.
My sixth(and three fourths) beer in my hand, my head starts to droop and my hips are swaying of their own accord. It’s like the sky has puppet strings, twisting me side to side. The beat controls me, the world whispers my movements. Who whispers to the earth is beyond me.
…am I on my seventh or my eighth beer? People walk off to dark corners, hands on hips and breasts and chests. Still I dance somewhere in the vast dim basement. Still I twirl, rhythm gone but gravity still clinging to the movements.
But where am I? What am I doing here on this dance floor, on this city-planet floating or falling or patiently waiting on the ice-slicked footsteps of space? The world is spinning as it pirouettes around the sun, the sun circling a superstar, that star swirling around the center of the galaxy, spinning like the top in the rest of the full dark silk of space, stars clapping and nebula soaring and supernovas shattering, guests all to the raves of light years. I dance on earth’s doormat drunk and spinning, feeling a giant in my world and a broken bottle in the worlds of others. Oh god, in the words of that song that’s beating in the bones of the earth and the air in my lungs, can we get much higher?
Live to fight another day, just to die another night
Unzip my veins and set me free
From empty bottles, and broken dreams
A shaky foundation indicates doom
And I'm alone in this hollow, desolate room
So forgive me if I must depart
I've been murdered by this broken heart