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phoenix-pascal
phoenix-pascal
The timeworn valley deafens us with hollow sighs and screams. Its captives ensure to advertise a uniform and mundane beauty. Look past the freezing air and glacial words, lest we forget it’s better than it seems. The sunlight on the frosty grass blinds us as it gleams. We keep ourselves safe inside with scalding chamomile tea. The winter gods shower in gold as another devotee screams. The red chariot regrettably careens Into the gates of Hell, as much deserving are we. In times like this, we tell ourselves, “It’s better than it seems.” In a bubble filled with emperors, tsars and kings and queens, A king may think of another king, “I wish I were he.” Inside of all the royals, the captive stabs and claws, bites and shoots, and screams. The regal slaves make love under the biting moonbeams, Not frozen yet, and never to be. The prohibition and clandestinity make it better than it seems. We have all divided into designated teams. When the clock strikes four, they issue the royal decree. This place is a shelter for our screams, Because nobody’s home is better than it seems.
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Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 5:46 PM UTC
Our Kingdom in the Ice
All hail the king. Too bad he's forgotten, Kings were once nobles, And nobles once peasants, And peasants nothing at all.
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Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 6:17 PM UTC
The King
You don't know how **** hard it is To say, Because backseat drivers always have 20/20 Vision until the day that he takes You into the alleyway And says "This'll be fast," And you say nothing, cuz you cannot see past The moment that someone is telling you they Want you. And you feel like that there's nothing that you Can do. So he tells you you're a tease, He says "Babe get on your knees," He says we're having fun so there's No need to run. In the aftermath of what had just ensued, You realize how much you pushed away or if It's true And the thoughts turn into tears, And you face the fear That maybe you were wrong, but you can't be Wrong, right? But newsflash, the 20/20 vision is gone, Check your eyesight.
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Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 6:09 PM UTC
The Limbo
Because trying too hard is a ticket to Hell, And the Devil won't take the soul you would sell. If you walked from LA to a Jupiter moon, You'd realize that it is not quite yet your doom. It's something much worse. You are where you're at: Caught in between peace and a heart attack. Heartbeat was racing, but the gun did not shoot. Intent versus action, the argument's moot.
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Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 6:52 PM UTC
Overflow
Falling asleep to the piano’s sweet sound, Then suddenly fooled with legerdemain. “HIT, BANG, SMACK, WHACK,” Scream the white and the black. Soul doth move Finger, Who intensifies Timbre. The tune it doth echo In mocking falsetto. Mind has been shattered By the torture he patterned. Shake with the fear— It’s a comfort, my dear.
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Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 6:44 PM UTC
Charles Ives Piano Sonata No. II
If you look past all the people, you can see that there’s a ghost. He sneaks around Manhattan, and he lightens all our loads. We can hop onto the Crazy Train and holler, “All aboard!” We tried to rock like Ozzy, but we missed too many chords. I’ve met some saviors who have made me feel just so at home, But when day breaks, they slip away, and I’m alone. Five hundred new guitars Won’t hide your battle scars. All I can do is tell you the words you wanna hear, Have another beer, You’re not a martyr, dear. Lions are just glorified house cats. There’s not a drop of water, but it rains here all the time. The sun comes every day, but it’s darkness that it shines. Understand that I am broken and my heart’s too cold to touch. You’re not all that different, dear. You smile way too much. There are a hundred thousand reasons why a house is not a home. So when day breaks, we slip away to be alone. Dance with me for a while, Foxtrot is not in style, But we’re in ball gowns anyway, so I’m too young, but I can drive, So that you can ride Shotgun in my dad’s Mercedes Benz. Traipsing the sidewalk, Making some small talk with yourself, Time is wasted, Love is tainted, And the sun waits for you. Cities are pretty rough, Towns aren’t good enough, Tell me exactly why you wanna run away, Because when day breaks, I’ll sing a song you used to know.
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Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 6:41 PM UTC
Thoughts Whilst Sitting On a Hawaiian Beach During a Thunderstorm
I. Faces I see every day, but I am Unable to recall a single one. Enjoy the party, because they will scam You into trapping yourself. Please, child, run. There was no party. I dropped a pencil And they told me I had sinned. They swallowed Me for the first time. I lost potential Consolation, for when they had hollowed Out my deceived body, my cast-iron Savior was out of my reach, and as I, A desperate maggot, finally grabbed on To the door handle, they had taken my Mother away, and they judged yet again That I had sinned. The white-eyed grey face then II. Swallowed me for the second time, only To be taken back to moments ago. When I had sinned for the final time, he Then truly frightened me, for I did no Wrong, and I stand by that. So bathing in Sweat, the worst terror of them all,the world Of the mundane, I grasp on the linen Guardians, at least I think so. I am furled And protected by these so-called “captors,” For they merely wish to restrain me from Eating the fruit.They **** half my life for The safety of the other. The lump sum Of this exchange is a **** deal, don’t let Them swallow you for real this time. And yet, III. I always let them.The lines between worlds Smudged away, liquidizing them in the Craggy valley, where children played and twirled Before the hit of my mind’s anarchy. “The Children's War.” That was what they called it, Because supposedly tranquilizers And spears were infants’ playthings, but I bit My tongue because I was scared. I slither Into faux participation, and found Myself guarding liquid life, seeds of thirst. I am ashamed to speak of it around This place, but it wasn’t so wrong at first, Before I ate that ********* fruit those two Half-witted wise ones deceived me into IV. Devouring. As my eyes were torn open, They poured them with whiskey because I ran Out of contact lens solution. And when I was confused by the darkness’s plan, They collected my tears for a cocktail And gave it to me, expecting me to Forget the ingredients. I tossed their grail And some tossed me. Slowly, I got the cue That the conductor was shoving into The head of the incompetent robot. It turns out the angels already knew Of my cocktail, so they joined me for shots. Even as they swallow all our stars, As long as I’m here, we won’t crash the car. V. But then again, remember when I would Talk into my plastic phone and follow You as your booming laugh shook where you stood? I had faith in you wherever we’d go. If the whirring sounds of our bicycle Wheels were to whisper your secrets into My undeserving ear, you know I’d **** To let deafness reign as my god. As you Ramble through your existential ******** I realize the words are intriguing, But I merely acknowledge. Your skin fits Your sentences like an old man crying In a crib. I wish you could join me in My multitude of worlds. But you have sinned.
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Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 6:15 PM UTC
Sonnets of Slumber
I. Faces I see every day, but I am Unable to recall a single one. Enjoy the party, because they will scam You into trapping yourself. Please, child, run. There was no party. I dropped a pencil And they told me I had sinned. They swallowed Me for the first time. I lost potential Consolation, for when they had hollowed Out my deceived body, my cast-iron Savior was out of my reach, and as I, A desperate maggot, finally grabbed on To the door handle, they had taken my Mother away, and they judged yet again That I had sinned. The white-eyed grey face then II. Swallowed me for the second time, only To be taken back to moments ago. When I had sinned for the final time, he Then truly frightened me, for I did no Wrong, and I stand by that. So bathing in Sweat, the worst terror of them all,the world Of the mundane, I grasp on the linen Guardians, at least I think so. I am furled And protected by these so-called “captors,” For they merely wish to restrain me from Eating the fruit.They **** half my life for The safety of the other. The lump sum Of this exchange is a **** deal, don’t let Them swallow you for real this time. And yet, III. I always let them.The lines between worlds Smudged away, liquidizing them in the Craggy valley, where children played and twirled Before the hit of my mind’s anarchy. “The Children's War.” That was what they called it, Because supposedly tranquilizers And spears were infants’ playthings, but I bit My tongue because I was scared. I slither Into faux participation, and found Myself guarding liquid life, seeds of thirst. I am ashamed to speak of it around This place, but it wasn’t so wrong at first, Before I ate that ********* fruit those two Half-witted wise ones deceived me into IV. Devouring. As my eyes were torn open, They poured them with whiskey because I ran Out of contact lens solution. And when I was confused by the darkness’s plan, They collected my tears for a cocktail And gave it to me, expecting me to Forget the ingredients. I tossed their grail And some tossed me. Slowly, I got the cue That the conductor was shoving into The head of the incompetent robot. It turns out the angels already knew Of my cocktail, so they joined me for shots. Even as they swallow all our stars, As long as I’m here, we won’t crash the car. V. But then again, remember when I would Talk into my plastic phone and follow You as your booming laugh shook where you stood? I had faith in you wherever we’d go. If the whirring sounds of our bicycle Wheels were to whisper your secrets into My undeserving ear, you know I’d **** To let deafness reign as my god. As you Ramble through your existential ******** I realize the words are intriguing, But I merely acknowledge. Your skin fits Your sentences like an old man crying In a crib. I wish you could join me in My multitude of worlds. But you have sinned.
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It’s difficult to dance when our legs are dark with bruises. We can’t remember love if we make love to our excuses. Bathing bare and naked in our ignorance and pride, The toxic water poisons us, and plagues us with divide. The truth about our childhood is that it must decay. January must expire to thaw the ice for May. The soldiers have no more to eat; they beg to end the war. They question if their covenant is one worth fighting for, Yet still we drink the poison, Yet still we dance away. We desperately so wish to love, But know I cannot stay. Tell me how we built this home, Lest that we forget, Because after the fires, the floods, the pain, You’re all that I have left.
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Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 6:01 PM UTC
The House Was Supposed to be Tan (But Was Accidentally Painted Yellow)