Life was easy before
There wasn't a
Life was easy before
There wasn't a
Life was easy before:
Life was easy before all of that.
Instead of a simple life
Our society bogs us down with
New things to make our leaves easier
But the truth still stands behind;
Lingering on doorsteps,
Behind the television set,
Underneath our persian silk sheets,
Even underneath the sidewalk
We walk upon to work.
The truth is still there,
With a blank stare,
Holding a smirk as old as time.
Gadgets gear us towards the idea of immortality
That we are the mighty Gods now
But all we need to be reminded of our dispensability
Is a little rain
A little shake
A little gust of wind
And our gadgets and selves will just wash away
Don't let me stray into those matters
Evolution always has me worried
Envy of not seeing man at their newest, their best
Holding the gates of my eyelids open
So to see the break of the waves blue white breast
Atonement in these times generously dispensed
But everyone remembers a face
The way the iron clad soldiers forget is through
Further murder, hoping to one day die themselves
To be truly forgotten is the greatest of miseries
Never having lived means to never have existed
Our footprints are getting wider
The trees sway further toward the ground
Exhaustion peels away at me
Like a babies hand would an orange
Barely standing, I go to work to make $50 a day
Expected to live and be grateful
Produces a laughter mixed with mad absurdity
Where are our heroes now?
On the screen? On the stage? In the field? Behind desks?
There is so much to be done and
When all is finished, the hands scabbed and the knees scraped
All of it will be in vain
Though, we can say we tried
Rather than sitting on our loins
Watching the clouds burst
And the swirls of sand form a tunnel toward God
Lizards prepare their feast
Buzzards rip the flesh from a fresh carcass
Dung beetles roll their wears to the holy land
And the hope of man breathes in and breathes out
One final time
Land of saints and scholars
not for us dog collars
no tying me up
only church wine, I sup
if I’m bound
it’s to the sink
head bowed and shouldn’t think
no sex please, I’m Irish
no flattery, that’s fresh
birth control is down to rhythm
stop those little sperm swimming
not allowed use a condom
I’ll have to take it up the bum
I tried to quit smoking last week. And my best friend died for eighteen hours. Such a deep loss has only been felt by rose hips, in the early winter, after the petals have fallen to the ground, like snow, like jumpers from high-rise buildings, like a maiden, after that last, fatal step off the plank, with swords at her back, and the horizon calling to her, the song of the Sirens drifting up from the ocean floor. Dropping, like petals, caught in a harsh winter breeze. The left-overs, the carcases of the flowers that were and are no more, watch with eyes of sorrow and hearts of lead, as each friend, companion, lover, even casual aquaintance plummets, to land on the already frozen soil of a dead, snowless, Colorado winter.
I died with my friend. My roots were tangled, and with each second that passed, a million axes took bites out of them, feasting on my identity. The axes were only gold-plated, it would seem, and not pure, unadulterated precious metal. Engraved in the paper-thin facade was a name, a face, and a hope, all of which were merely a poor excuse for an excersise in willpower. The cold, iron blade shone through the thin, gently curved lines of lip and ear and eye made of nebula. With each breath that passed between loosely parted lips, I felt myself fade, giving my everthing to the world (hope, name, face) that had, only moments before, murdered my closest companion.
My eyes grew steadily hard, increased stone-content. By 6:30, I had been staring into the eyes of my mistress, Medusa, for at least two hours, my head filled with love songs and daydreams, clutching straws and holding out for the one perfect moment that would shed a brief light on my life, which is, in all reality, the afformentioned pirate ship, but void of lamps, candles, or any other means of illumination.
Questions flowed to the surface of my disjointed mind in a stream, a river, an oceanic current of molten rock and sloppy second guesses.
(Will one hurt? Half? Just one puff? Why? Why? Why?)
And as I turned to stone, I finally found the courage to answer one of the questions that my brain shot itself with, injected into its own blood stream. The question was the sole bullet in a revolving, high-stakes betting game, the answer, the fourth trigger pull, with only two chances left anyway.
(Because... I don't know why...)
So stand up, go to the place you have thought about two-million times, and, yes, smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette.
As my friend rose from the dead, pushing aside the boulder blocking the entrance to its tomb, which everyone knew was just a temporary tenement, and we were reunited, we spoke of fascists. Well, I spoke of fascists, it listened. I spoke of the kind of fascists that exist in grayscale television commercials, spewing ingnorant words about the untimely deaths of beloved family members, who give me dirty looks in public, and have forced me into alleyways, across streets, out of sight, out of mind, to the back of the bus, as if non-smokers live forever, as if everyone can accomplish said impossible feat, if not for the evil plant, the evil spiritual plant that poses a threat to the well-ordered religious structures, pyres built for martyrs and long-dead saviors.
I have only begged for eternity once, and I was very young, with years of rocks and hard places ahead, only pink clouds behind, and eyes incapable of foresight. This boy ate apples, and drew on his arms with black pen every Sunday. Go into the church clean, bathed, come out with temorary full-sleeve tattoos. This boy was made of wonder, myth, and blind acceptance. No longer.
I have now gazed into an eternity made of open graves, lost loves, and harsh, barbed-wire truths, punctuated with sharp, jabbing exclamation points of brief pleasure that only seem to make the reality of eternity worse. I am a masochist, and even I don't want that. A body can only function for so long without sleep before the motor wears out, the radiator breaks, the gasket leaks, and the marbles flee from the growing insanity of their owner. We all need to rest eventually, and in my secret mind - the one that grimaces with sick pleasure and only shows its teeth in the lines of a poem, slightly blurred by metaphor - I long for that sleep. I am tired, but the day is only half done. But each sun sets, and we can not deny it that truth, that sensation of finality that settles upon senile eyes like a cataract, that snuggles against warm, pink lungs in all its black, tar-like splendor.
Truth, like so many other things in this solar system, only takes shape when under the eye of a microscope, with a passive viewer sewn to the end of it, with the sole intention of passing judgement before shouting "NEXT," and repeating the process untill they either run out of things to judge (blame, think, guilt-trip) or die.
So, smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette. Puff, puff, puff it and let us hope they never get to either of us, old friend.
I am the poet of the dark.
The red heart deep in me,
has stopped beating steadily.
Am I goddess of the dark.
who watches you, in the night.
With the look of a darkened stare,
trying to find beauty in me.
My eyes painted black,
see what they hidden in their minds
by immortal eyes, just like mine.
I am the night mist
lurking in every corner.
I wander in the dark skies,
where the eyes of crows shine.
In the dark
I will never find the light.
My wings of a dark angels.
devours the hours,
waiting for the day is done.
Cover of night waiting to fall on me.
where night dreams fall,
without arousing my already broken heart.
My verses written
Runs like a warm rain.
In abandoned buildings,
where I had given myself to the darkness.
Disease left by beings,
that destroy the world.
With their impious rage>
Who are the strangers?
Or are you crazy?
Leave me alone with my sorrow, because the dead is crying
After all, someone needs to die.
Then it's me
Goddess of Darkness
Let me light my fire,
in the land of dead souls
I lie down on the tombstones cold and left alone.
left by beings of old.
Let me sing dark lullaby's.
Dont come close to me.
The world is sick and twisted.
Maybe there is more healing
Someone needs to die.
Then it's me
being the dark princess.
Where is the elixir that will make me forget?
I need to find it I need to drink it.
For I need to flee,
for I want to be free.
Free from the burden,
free from the torture and guilt.
I just want to run,
To a place far away.
Away from the corruption,
Away from the sins.
To place where I will know,
Know the meaning of peace.
So help me forget the memories good and bad.
All I need, all I want,
Is freedom that I lust in a land far far away.
My bare feet touch every dampened board
as I walk along the sand-dusted pier.
Seagulls cry softly in the background
as salt coats my skin.
A shadow dashes by muttering
angrily. I follow and his pace quickens
faster and faster until we are running.
The waves grow taller the further we run
until we reach the pier’s end.
The man stops and turns toward me. He grips the railing.
His mouth opens to speak, but the swell breaks.
I find myself back on the beach watching
the waves drift in and out, eating away
at the land. Yet nothing changes.
I am lost in this play land
Surrounded by toys in a magical land
A choo choo train, a laughing clown
An incredible circus in a Toy land,
Is this the place called Peekaboo Play land?
please call me Alice in Wonderland
I miss thee, I hath to admit
I want to witness again thy stunning smile so sweet
And how th' sun always kindly, and generously, touchest thy dark hair
Then shalt thou breakest into endless jokes and childish wit
'Fore rising a tender smile, as we greet each other by th' circular stairs.
I bet thou art still remarkable and stupendous as usual
Thou whom I'th known since last grey fall
By th' ponderous sleeping lake; in th' midst of a burly night;
Thou stared through me with a pair of unfathomable eyes;
as though thou couldst makest everything in my heart-better and right;
and yon, yon colourlessness of th' night, shinest so beautifully as butterflies.
Thou wert, indeedst, not th' paleness I had dreamed,
thou wert not bleak, thou wert not mean.
Thou still shined brightly though chilled and dimmed,
thou wert damp, but sunny-just like th' nearby shuffling trances
to which I had never been.
At times thou canst seem lazy, ah-but thou'rt indeedst not!
As just I do, thou liveth thy life from dot to dot,
thou leapest from time to time in my story,
thou, though far away, somehow always seem near,
and be sitting here idly with me and my poetry.
Thou might be close not to my ears,
but I canst listenest to thee; as thou eat and pray,
and as thou waketh, to every single inevitable day.
T'is life, which canst somehow be bitter,
shalt at times corruptest thy happiness and thy laughter;
wringing thee into false devotion and meanness,
but be sure, my love, t'at I shalt be thy cure;
I shalt be thy unhealed passion and all-new tenderness.
I shalt be thy first salvation, honesty and satiation;
I shalt be a scarf t'at giveth thee warmth, and thy hated mediation;
hated and dejected by t'is dreadful world, my love,
t'is world which knowest not t'at love is everything above.
And I shalt be thy heaven, and holiness,
and thy greenest grass when it is too dark,
as t'is world hurts and drivest away from frankness;
and within its grim sacrifice, lettest go of its single spark.
Ah, thee, thy innocence is just like my own soul,
but it is what makest thee divine as gold;
thou art ever pure, and incessantly pure,
and thy jokes and ventures and preachings flawless and true.
And in t'is weary life-which is sometimes faultless but unsure,
thou always makest me feel honoured;
makest me feel brand new.
Ah, Kozarev, thou art my immortal twin star,
and thy lips my sophisticated fragrant moon;
thou art my umbrella in yon idyllic heaven afar,
fade away not, but thou drifted away too soon!
My love, but sketchest again our undying night,
t'is time with a new bosom of light,
and giveth me comfort within which,
and flinch no more, for I shalt not flinch.
Thy genuinity is my nature,
thy childishness is my cure;
for t'ere are no more lips as naive as thine,
though t'ey oftentimes seemest spotless,
and t'eir toughness, seemest fine.
Ah, Kozzie, only fate t'at shalt makest out paths eventually align;
fate who hath sent me sweet prophecies, and a truthful bold sign.
Let me be thy grace, and thy sole, immortal lady;
let me be such craze, so t'at thou shalt always be with me.
I shalt be thy doll, and thy very own addict;
I shalt nursest, and cherishest thee every day of the week.
And joy, and its miraculous delight shalt be ours alone,
fallen fast asleep by night, and renewed by upcoming morns.
Together shalt we teasest every passing minute and hour;
and treatest all 'em nicely, just like how we deemeth t'at laugh, of ours.
And when nightfall greetest, sleep, my love, sleep;
thy red, innocent cheeks shalt I kiss; thy greatest dreams shalt I keep.
Kozarev, and fliest me again to th' melancholy Sofia,
wherein our peace shalt dwellest, and be cheered and alive.
But let me first fetch my old, talkative umbrella;
for Sofia shalt be full of rain; but one t'at makest it safe, and thrive.
Ah, Sofia, our little haven like yon nearby oak chatroom,
old as it is, but still-tenderer t'an t'is ever lonely gloom;
I bet Sofia is still warmer t'an t'is fraudulent war of my heart,
though it is, of now, far and sat by a land wholly apart.
Oh, Sofia, in which our love shalt be adequate, but still-inadequate,
for our love is more benign, ye' at times-more capricious t'an fate.
And it is raw, but ripe, like a mature cherry;
it hath neither tears, nor hate, nor brave worry!
Ah, my love; but again fly me, fly me, t'ere-
for cannot I waitest to live my life with thee;
and so promise t'at I shalt not bend, nor go else anywhere,
so long as thou shalt stayest, and liveth thy future years with me.
Oh, and I shalt forsaketh thee no more;
and disdaineth thee no more-thou art my sonata!
My delight liest in hearing thy sonnets be told;
thou sitting by me 'fore moonlight, down on th' starlit piazza!
Ah, Kozarev, please no longer makest my heart sore-
I am sick to death, I detestest t'is grief to th' core;
Burnest my heart's cries, and indulgest me in thy arms,
I shalt brimmest in thy glory; and gratefully lost, in thy charms.
As th' world turnest so weak and rough,
we shalt be th' sole ones to fall in love;
but our idyll is one t'is envious world cannot gather;
as it growest bleaker, as it turnest worse.
But Kozarev, having thee by my side shalt be enough;
and my days shalt be no more sad, nor tough;
Thou art th' candle, t'at lightest up th' life within me,
thou art th' candy, t'at livenest up all my poetry.
by Jonathan D Maraccini
Life intertwined swallows the smoke and mirrors of bitter thirst.
Thus terrible people produce monstrous dreams and have no remorse.
I see a million locked boxes full of paper faces,
any who walk among the wretched faces will endure a terrible curse.
One night, on Christmas Eve
My wounded hand was forced
The planets and the stars began to change their course
A course that was methodically endorsed
Then broke apart by the spell of divorce
And so I read
Heed this warning and learn,
she will come like a thief in the night,
and run your heart with a dagger.
She will poison the family with lies,
then leave you to burn,
leave you to die
The dark arts was stirring in my soul
Pulsating a cadence of revenge
Mumbling words I couldn't comprehend
Then a voice spoke, so now I understand
I do this not because I lack control
I do this because I can
So I turned the page and read from the book again
Lies through a mask of shame
break souls in any scenario
Shifting shadows I saw a ghost of a women in flight
So I raised my hands
Breathing these words in the night
Voco artibus tenebrosis
With an echo in the house
Alone I cried
Then I heard a dark shadow speak from outside
It's going to be a nice night
Get dressed and be ready to fight
So be it, I thought
Black jacket, black gloves, black tie
Black pants, black boots
And a mask painted white
Then I grabbed the book and jumped in my ride
Drove for an hour until I finally arrived
Walked to the door then slipped out of site
Through a window I quietly slid inside
Sitting in the living room she's with some other guy
I danced in the room and yelled surprise!
He ran to the kitchen and grabbed a knife
She sat there in shock, then began to cry
I reached in a bag that was strapped to my thigh
I brought C4 and a detonation device
Get face down or we're all gonna die
Then I sang a song while their hands were tied
I smiled at them with contemptuous delight
Then something happened I could not deny
My mathematical perception whether it be wrong or right
Good or bad
Surrender or fight
Was distorted when my daughter walked in and said hi
I stood up, smiled then hugged her tight
I looked up and saw a helicopter light
The cops rushed in
I waved at my daughter then closed my eye's
(A few months later - in court)
Maybe like Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde came back
The Judge said will let the jury decide that
My attorney turned like a great acrobat
The defendant was out of his mind!
He claims to hear voices from another time
He didn't mean to snap
He didn't mean to kidnap
Or strap that bomb to her back
This man speaks in riddles and ryhmes
He claims this old book helped him plan the attack
But the pages are empty
Can you imagine that
Maybe he's blind
He claims he saw a half women, half cat
The defendant is clearly troubled
Or even addicted to crack
Jury of the court, his train is clearly off track
Find it in your heart and give him some slack
That is when I stood up, cleared my throat
People of the jury, your honor, may I take the stand?
If you must he said
So I stepped up and began
Let me reiterate who I really am
I am a force that chose to stay dormant
I am the big boot that stomps the little ant
Now somebody wants to force my hand
So now the dark arts is about to expand
Ready to crawl into my cerebellum
Ready to reboot and take command
Let me read from the Book again
Written 10,000 years ago by the Mage Abraham
I stood up, opened the book, and summoned an hourglass with my pen
But I was never planning to surrender my friends
The doors to the courtroom clanked shut from within
Then I fluttered my fingers and called a great wind
It pulsated with thunder, the room began to spin
The hourglass shuttered with the last grain of sand
The floor split open and the jury fell in
The furniture grew teeth then everyone ran
I smiled at the judge poor little lamb
Then a pack of wolves devoured the man
Then the wind and the wolves and the shadows of the land
Heard me say goodbye
Voco artibus tenebrosis
Then I vanished into my world of pretend
Went to my ancestor's home on a Spring season that year..
On a Holi day in the land of Chanchadari
A peaceful morning in Hoshiarpur, the doors to Himalaya
Happy Holli day!! The kids shout with cheer
Holi Hai! Holi Hai! Lets play Holi!!!
He woke up early morning that day..
With a bucket of colored water waiting for me
I stepped outside my grandpa's door
In a split second I was soaked in a coloured water…
From head to toes… red, orange, yellow, purple… the colors of Holi…
Ohh It's a Hoi Hai day alright…
Lets play Holi … Lets play Holi..
Hails spring with ecstasy and joy!
The trees smile with their sprout
of tender leaves and blooming flowers,
The land of beauty and greatness,
India, witnessing color of happiness and peace.
Nation come alive to enjoy the spirit
A celebration of color- Holi!
An experience of content, harmony and delight.
Holi colors of red, green, yellow and countless.
A day's canvas - a riot of colors.
Lively crowd running, dancing, playing
Rainbow of colors, Lets play Holi and splish and splash!!
Lets play with the frenzy colors .. play on Holi Hai day….
I am dreaming of playing with colors with you
It is the Holi celebration after all.
I can't play inside my home, the carpets will get tainted,
I cant' play it in the yard, the grass and outer walls will get painted.
I thought I would go to the secret garden of ours,
and play with you Holi hai day …
It's a colourful day just you and me..
In love on Holi Hai day…. Lets play Holi..