Tweet tweet! what a beautiful bird I am,
The sun a yellow comb, strokes
My little juniper tree and me.
La-dee-da.
I’ll fly across
The stone yew and its chuffing
Fugue.
I’ll watch the
Shotgun wedding of
smoke and leaves.
I'll watch their breathes
Catch and stumble
While the chimney boys sing
And the choir boys weep.
La-dee-da.
Filthy bird song! They shout
Like bullets.
As I fall onto my mother's nest.
She’ll unfold her downy hands
And there in the tickled pits of her palms,
Will splutter and wail
A filthy black bird
With its filthy smoked cloak
And
Her eyes will glaze,
Returning my dismal hums. She
Will fetch a shiny name for me
In the cracks of bourgeois cobble.
****
And it will all just be a joke
La-dee-da
And I will be a joke
La-dee-da
And I will stretch my wings
and
drown.
May 14, 2020
May 14, 2020 at 5:16 AM UTC
Within my veins
A toxic craze
Itches and swells.
It paints
China white skin
Rose red,
Ardent with haste.
It takes the skies,
Fills it with diamonds
And in the nights,
Reduces the stars to
Nothing more than coal.
Mad hat men
Line the streets,
They blow blue kisses
That float my way
In rings of smoke.
And when I visit
The same dark holes
Of yesterday.
They’re filled with rabbits
White as chalk,
Scattering,
like dropped marbles.
After cold nights
When dawn drapes the sky
In new clothes,
Stray cats flood the pavement
In choirs
Ready to sing us into the new day,
All while I pretend
I'm not slipping down this rabbit hole.
Jan 30, 2019
Jan 30, 2019 at 11:37 PM UTC
We lay on clean cut sheets,
Bedouin Societe draped
Over her shoulder
And I
Cold. Behind her Always.
Peach fuzz silk, skin
Flushed pink at the ears
To die at the nape.
How prudent the light is
That falls to her side
Obedient and strange
Clinging to the figure like
Tailored satin.
Christ, even breath
moves with grace
Along the shoulder blades
So supple and sweet
Back down again in progression.
Slow dancing to the ballad of dream.
I hear hesitation in the footsteps
Something is wrong
Two left feet lovers
Trip and trample
She stirs, amorous,
So sweet and simply.
Lips parted, wet.
I take the time to watch
Music stops.
Fresh panic takes hold of her skin
From silk to braille.
Months of work reflected in
Eyes quickly swelling with dread
I forgot shadows aren’t invisible.
Swift lover in the night,
I collapse through the window
My lady, her banshee cries
Plucks my heartstrings
In the chord of betrayal
How audacious.
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 3:05 AM UTC
We were lovers before we were friends
In the sun that wore your skin
Like a summer dress
you didn’t hesitate to climb into my treehouse
And decorate it with sparkly things
You never bothered to ask
If the trees limbs could hold us both
Instead you acquainted me with your smile
Pearly teeth, empty eyes
Cross legged on the wooden floor
Adorned in the oncoming light
Your ringlets caught every ray that day
When winter came
I found you again
Instead this time I was a coat rack
And you filled my hands with blankets
As we sat together watching the wind
Talking about tomorrow.
But your smile couldn’t hold the sun
Instead your eyes met mine
And I saw the cold outside
I saw in you all the pretty things you liked
Unfortunately I didn’t shine like them
I couldn’t catch your eye
So when you told me you loved me
I let you
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 11:43 PM UTC
In a sense, on the first day
I fell in love with music
Was my very first PULSE
The feeling of drums in my head
The vibrating excitement it gives,
Like someone knows my heartbeat
And has given it back to me
In the form of song.
On the second day
Opera and rhapsodic cries
Bring me tears
And taught me how to weep.
Shared with me my own experience
How they found them,
I will never know
On the third day
A fire was set in my throat,
I shouted words that were much more
Than words.
On that day, music taught me pain,
It showed me anger
It showed me passion
On the fourth day
I was possessed
My body was something greater
Ethereal movements
Controlled by strings
A puppet to the violins
And broken by piano keys.
The fifth day however
Was silence.
Possibly the most painful music
I’ve ever dared listen to.
Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 8:42 PM UTC
I suppose we wear our traumas
the way the guillotine wears gravity;
our lovers necks are so soft.
So sweet
Too innocent;
Kisses like cold, corrupt metal.
Those seven seconds of silence
When you wait for anything;
Any sign that they understand
What you’ve been through
waiting in those seconds
To be reassured by
‘I love you’
Sitting in dust of a dark room
Confiding in them your secrets
Those seven seconds of silence
They **** you.
On edge, free falling
The guillotine dropping in your stomach
Eyes desperate for reassurance
at complete mercy
To this person
Right in front of you
And when they hug you
Brought your head out of danger
Shattered the blade
Saved you from death
Loved you to life
That guillotine,
Nothing more
Than fear of being unloved
May 25, 2018
May 25, 2018 at 9:44 PM UTC
I am,
I will do,
however many times,
verily, I say to you,
that I am about to die
I am so close.
I can hear his breathing
Behind me when I walk
And I see his shadows behind me
Whenever I look.
However subverted I may seem,
Scythe marks replace footsteps
satirical monologue replace thoughts
Awkward uncertainty replace fate
I am no fool.
I am not ignorant
I just seem to know that
death is very close to me
And I am certain
Beyond all doubt
That there is no foreseeable future
This isn’t a monologue reading of my depression
I am not reciting verses to cure myself
Of these thoughts
in hopes that they will leave me
I’m simply here to express
My distaste for the living
How sweet those secret kisses I stole from death
when we shared the shadows
so in fact
I am not dying
I am falling in love
Which is just the same thing really
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 1:59 AM UTC
I’m glad to see you can find
Such beautiful things the world
has to offer.
to tread carefully, and, behold,
he gave the flowers and trees to you,
The sun recreated in your image
Convincing the stars
That they weren’t all that heavenly
Compared to you.
And when he saw in you light,
hastened the hands of foolish taking
To your happiness
he holds captive trying to imitate.
May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 10:22 PM UTC
He came to me in a dream
to live past the cold duty of death
Come to me in my sleep, I might give
Pulse for pulse, breath for breath;
Low, lean low
Lets trade heartbeats.
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 7:17 AM UTC
24:33
Happiness is of the interminable
it flows from something I desire to be
born from again.
not possible to understand
At such age
that you find it in the flowers, and the rain.
In her smile
Whose eyes held back seas
And mothered the tides.
You’ll find her lyrics
scattered among the dampened days.
One must only look towards the clouds
call for help and break with the sky
She will hear your cries
Left to nothing but a pile of dry raindrops poured devastated, so difficult to grasp.
She sings with the rain,
Water Falls from her lips.
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 3:09 AM UTC