all my blackbirds sing for me
and all my friends arrived
roses bloom above my head
a fine place to reside
lacrimal gush under vails will remedy
promises always lie
pain will tell the journey
trenched the soil to reach the sky
all my blackbirds stopped to sing
for they are no more
all my friends left the same
and all the roses wilt in dirt
I've been reckoned as a coward
they will never see what I saw
and all my songs will stay unsung
and all my songs will stay unsung
Jul 31, 2020
Jul 31, 2020 at 8:03 PM UTC
as of tonight I am one with the stars
a glass splinter of many
meticulously distributed by the hand
that shattered the shining jar
nourished by the garlic half moon
peeled it off and
cut it into shape
for my marginal nocturnal treat
im here to disappear
a repeating onetime chance
what’s between shall remain as
a clasping ray to heaven‘s gate
Jul 30, 2020
Jul 30, 2020 at 2:52 AM UTC
somewhere down in paradise
born and bored alive
an unwilling smile of an outcast child
abide the day and cheer the night
And I’m not cured
I’ll do it again
‘til the morning aches and
the sun rises in the west.
Jul 27, 2020
Jul 27, 2020 at 8:46 PM UTC
all the turmoil inside pacify
like a little combusting sun
that warms my body
in winter hardships and
cools my mind on a blue summer evening
when my vacant stare catches the delicate rills
as they incinerate out of existence
one by one like incense into the holy skies
until the only light serves my needs
harmful habits do me good
what a doleful commentary on my life
Jul 27, 2020
Jul 27, 2020 at 8:43 PM UTC
just like my eyes hurt, whenever I venture
a step outside my antrum
so they do, whenever I look at you.
and when I shut my eyes, the sun is gone
your eyes still pierce through
rebellious daughter of Midas
you turned your left wing into gold
of what avail is the other one now?
and your heart that glistens
oh what price you have paid
Jul 27, 2020
Jul 27, 2020 at 12:41 PM UTC
I pull, I pull
it’s a starry, gloomy night
the stars gaze above my steaming head
but they don’t shine for me
while I stand at a sea
a sable, sludgy, shining sea
reflecting the stars
that don’t shine for me
I pull and I pull
something resists, the mildewed thread quivers
a hand, scar-strewn, thin and exanimately pallid
i wonder where she summones the strength
maybe I’m just a weak man
when a faint, scratchy voice calls me
among afloating bubbles
tells me to release
Jul 25, 2020
Jul 25, 2020 at 1:09 PM UTC
he runs and runs
away from invisible enemies,
settles for a wide street corner eventually
enters heavily gasping a small café.
the abdominals are ripped from all the coughing.
the swiftly waitress realizes that,
as he orders a cup of black coffee.
she asks him, if it was a fine sporting day,
with a wide, plainly sinister smirk.
confused as he was, he gives her an absent nod,
in hope to leave him alone and serve that **** coffee.
at least he found an excellent spot
covered on a stakeout for his own death.
the street on the left, called Void Street,
seems pretty occupied
but shows no sign of the ambitious hitmen.
on his right lies Paradise Avenue,
emptied and distilled of silence
still nervous he bites his fingers,
although no nails are attached to them anymore
so he ***** the angst dry
like a skint man does with the tip of his last wrinkled cigarette,
that he found in one of his forgotten jacket pockets
safe space now,
he reckons,
only to have his throat cut
Jul 24, 2020
Jul 24, 2020 at 6:41 AM UTC
instead, they send me a glow of esperance
and expounding answers through the back of fireflies
which I now must entrap for further examination
like a sterile entomologist milling around
in the someday
blazing with unbridled wrath
the reason barred by all gods
only at nightfall disclosed
within my grasp but in the somewhere
preferably after the daytime shadows
have fueled my will in the antrum
a modest perishing cold revives splendidly
and I awake by the sound of my rumbles
from what seems to be one oblivious moment of eternity now
I swing an idly leg of my dented bed
pull the other inanimate carrier behind
she's here, whenever the eyes open
this time far back in the mirror right across
that stares back at me with those withered and dilated eyes
underneath two unilluminated crescents
uncertain, if she sobs or smiles
the night is nigh, better hurry
Jul 23, 2020
Jul 23, 2020 at 1:21 AM UTC
tedious tardy sleeps are the latest commodity
my advisor‘s eulogized,
though I have dealt with it
for as long as ever.
since I do that exceedingly well.
just once I’d wish to sink into bed,
shut my eyes for a shielded moment,
and find myself revived afterwards.
perhaps my life is
too cluttered with uncertainties,
so my bedlam body unlearned to be happy.
instead, a high demand of despondency
is expected to be appeased by
the insomniac stakeholders of my remains.
Jul 23, 2020
Jul 23, 2020 at 1:19 AM UTC
yummy.
burned me with a stick today,
smelled like smoky ribs
on a lovely sunday morning pan.
the pain on the pan
sizzled the other pain away.
well done,
as I fancy the most.
Jul 21, 2020
Jul 21, 2020 at 12:59 AM UTC