Perhaps it was in December or January,
When a greying mob member tumbled down the stairs.
Perhaps, they said, it was because he was old and weary,
They told me “Do not speak”, for fear I would meddle in their affairs.
They told me “Do not look”,
For fear that I would empathise and find, what a cold dead body could yield.
To look into the grey glass eyes of a wife abusing crook,
For I would find the last embers of a carefree child in the fields.
I've been to several of these before,
The monotony of incense crackle and firecracker smoke.
They dance nonchalantly around in circles, performing their sacred rituals,
Throwing dirt with their mouths and hands upon the dead and living.
Will they weep at my funeral
Or will they snicker and say good riddance?
Random stranger reading my honey drenched eulogy,
Why so cynical?
Am I the only happy nihilist out there
Oh, will you cry happy tears at my funeral?
Oct 10, 2020
Oct 10, 2020 at 12:06 PM UTC
We will awaken from our deep slumber with new clarity
cleansed and healed.
We shall return to our weary world refreshed,
united in our losses and lessons learned.
We will remember them as the flowers that grow amongst the graves,
as Maytime thunder, deeply scarring and searing
we shall hold candles to their names,
burn ablaze the bright path ahead
It shall pass like a dream, nights of battling unseen beasts from beyond long gone,
dazed but knowing certain that it had passed.
The days will no longer bleed and blur into one another,
But rather, we shall step forth into blooming horizons renewed, refreshed
As long as the human spirit is not extinguished
The flame of hope shall be rekindled,
for now, spring is here -
And the world begins anew
Apr 9, 2020
Apr 9, 2020 at 4:47 AM UTC
I wish you loved me as much as you loved the rain and stars,
From the unfathomable depths of the sea, I could still see your twin suns,
so unreachable,
unreachable.
Till the day the proud celestials descend from their lonely thrones,
Till the day I drown on tides of breath and speckled sky,
Till the day when crowns of sea spray bow and set ablaze.
You will always be so, like rain through a sieve of starlight;
unreachable
Feb 13, 2020
Feb 13, 2020 at 12:02 PM UTC
You are a king
And I, the court fool
Sometimes a lady, or if luck pleases, a faithful courtesan
But my cowardice always crowns me with the dunce cap with bells
Jun 2, 2019
Jun 2, 2019 at 8:08 AM UTC
'Oderint dum metuant. Atreus, Books III–V "De Ira", I, 20, 4.'
They unwrap me like candy
Peeling, stripping flesh and sinew carelessly
Rice paper thin boldness dissolving
Melamine tinged shifting unsettled smiles
I grin back at them sweetly,
Teeth and jaw, bare bone beaming white
They have made me no more but the refreshing whispers of wrappers
Now, I am the nothingness that they cannot destroy
Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 10:53 PM UTC
Why does it hurt so, the spaces between us
That longing, the harsh caresses of air
Between your words and mine
Why do the echoes of your laugh,
entangle my breath
And pull, without pulling
Why do I dwell upon these pockets of time,
Where they seem to drip and pool
In the creases of your smile
And yet, I know. That you,
Unravel me
You who pull, without pulling
Mar 29, 2019
Mar 29, 2019 at 7:08 PM UTC