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midnight prague Aug 2011
They will speak of me in a downward tone
with a voice of mourning upon the funeral of dead soldiers
they will sing of me in avant garde with octaves hitting the lowest
pit in the fires where souls banish and come back for continuous agony
hands reaching out of a purgatory living in the walls of this asylum will
move in rhythmic patterns of a high fashion and a noble art
elegant and unwilling, shaking and drilling
breathing you will see the souls of these anarchists rise
from the stigmatic allure of their concentrated assets
reaching out as if to hold back shunning all the disbelief that pain is the
obscured enemy of this life, when all he teaches is the appreciation of happiness
violence and how it intricate's  a human welt
barred in chains of a forsaken emotion
deeply rooted in the hearts of a barren people
I will speak these words forever as I walk through a muse of history
with each second that passes I will preach my sighs of a
hopeless pain
I will refuse to lock myself behind thick wooden doors inside
when it rains
my diary leaks with its tattered and frail pages symphonies of a deep
understanding on what is hidden in the eyes of those humans
who spark my deepest curiosity in the gazes of a mournful living
a light tap on the shoulder and I will drop and show you how these things bleed,
like animals spirits hunting and killing their unseeing prey
there is no survival here only a continuation of evanescence and death
and moments of a calming laughter in between
exposing myself to life's blood time and time again,
and a acquired taste for wisdom
and that deep pit that the miners of life dig through me to find my diamonds
and when they do, I am happy
but the hole goes in so deep that I am left with no breathe and I am drained of life
so that I may wake up in the morning anew and lively again
come into me and speak to my reaper
so that I may expose the divinity that I
hide away in my jewelery box of art and criminal behaviors
a Victorian and bizarre mistress
I have held the hearts of many in between my man like hands consumed by a womanly fragrance
my neck pulsates, and you can see my veins
I tear down these curtains
they will speak of me and how I have no shame
midnight prague Aug 2011
tonight I will bleed out the defintion between us
tonight I will leak like the ocean in between every grain of sand
tonight I will break my body in all the pieces

tommorow I will leave you
tommorow I will make every vertabra in your back shake
tommorow I will sweep you into my mind
and drench you out thinking about my sleepless night

yesterday I held you
yesterday I blushed when you came to kiss my cheek
yesterday I listened to your heart sing under your skin
yesterday I felt you in my stomach
yesterday you were my favorite song played by the ancestors
of all the greatest composers
yesterday you were the art of my life
and the cleanliness in my heart
yesterday I invisioned a picture of you and me
and a small soul between us, a painted mixture of you and I
yesterday you were the bone in my fingers
that helped me write soft things

now your the rapture in my heart
and the fire burning my wings
midnight prague Aug 2011
Je t’aime, mais j’ai en moi la mort
and then I smiled when the words committed
suicide off your pale tongue
jumping into an abyss of falter in my
pit of emotion killing themselves within me
I cant stare at you for too long
because your pain is far beyond
striking, and I feel like
my glance might hurt you,
maybe burn a hole through your skin
passioned by the existence
of your hands and the body
you have marked, I understand
through our similar experiences
the love that manifests within
our cement bodies
outlined in a rush
spoken of in a small hush
I stroke my fingers through
your hair which has been tinted
by the sun, and I feel tragic
give me all that pain
mon amour so I can hide it
so that I may extinguish it
with my small woman hands
and my small woman heart
there are no words of happiness
that exist to explain how
my being became abrupted and
fell in this heap that might
last as long as the breaths I
take while standing next to you
I feel more beautiful when I
lay next to you
I feel humble in your
kitchen full of broken things
and peeling paint
lets take our smiles
and mix them slowly
until our colors become one
separately whole, I kiss you
and smile as I silently hear our
songs of sorrow playing together in harmony
and the notes are changing and
resemble something of the
universe and its vast space

something endless
midnight prague Aug 2011
you are the toska breeding in me like vicious flowers
cannas perhaps lotus or bleeding hearts
haunting the excruciating longing in my sinking chest
a calming and white haunting

I hear a thud in the middle of my body and it seems
that my heart levels itself in between my dimmed ribs
so that it may nervously burst in my core
to let that beautiful yellow childlike  sun into my body

what am I without you, a weltering raindrop
on top of a dark wooden roof
falling into the rustic mud while nobody is watching
being absorbed into the earth while nobody

when I spoke my voice was hallow
and now you fill my speech and the streaks of tunes from my neck
like a starving man who by the grace of God has been blessed
with the feast of kings and queens

the phantom artist of something like a never ending dream
the gentle spirit
the serene incubus

daydreamer of withering beauty
heartless and genuine
I rest my smile upon your spine
I suffocate into your talent
of a deep and barren like litost

your calm ocean
as mine
filled with creatures only our imaginations
can begin to decipher
a tender arena of hearts and fowl play
you have taught me more about myself
I am bathing in beauty
drowning in a glorifying deep silk

I would bring my last weeping words  in a coffin
with  dark and rich embroidery resembling
that of your driven eyes
for a simple brush of your hand
upon my cheek
midnight prague Aug 2011
A simple woman, sitting by the window sill
watching the dust glimmering in the beams of sunlight
that peak through her broken curtains.
she catches them with her tongue.
she forgets to put her undergarments on usually when she wears a dress
and alone she loves to be naked.

A simple woman who wakes up in the morning
and washes her face, examines herself in the mirror
one minute convinced she is beautiful and the next pale and daunted
the water slowly runs down her neck

she is electrical with remorse,  fondled by regret
she is enamored by the new day
she wants to lay in her bed forever
she cannot wait to kiss the sun

her mind will make your soul feel -light/cool wind/calm.
her heart .fleshy -copious, and pregnant with deadly bombs

her hands press down like the dictator in his high
her hands press down like the mothers upon a new born

black and white things make their way down
like oil snakes, leaving impressionable trails behind
this mirror that she stares into
behind all the admirable things she has tasted
she examines her mouth
the creature that has pranced upon vicious moments
the one that restrains itself from brutal emotional death

some of her days are a rise above phenomenal planets
she throws her arms in the sky and dances every step she knows soaking wet
enthralled, blistered and covered in the masquerade of her tears
usually she is empty, hallow - engraved with speechless anecdotes of
her most inspiring times,
under the blazed moon
her back glimmers - her skin gives off a light cool
the stare in her eyes, makes every bone in your body
turn to ice, beware of her because sometimes
she is too nice

a simple woman, who will make the black heart turn white
a simple woman who can make ****** fall in love
a simple women who has

she walks into the grocery store
people do not stare correctly, or never stare at all
either way she is discontent ----- rarely people stare with proper eyes
and when they do, things go missing
her memory vanishes- her turmoil falls deeper into the grave yard
she is new

she is a simple woman
she sings after she smokes too much, and does not eat enough sometimes
she enjoys making love to books and giving birth to new ones
she melts at the thought of a good poem
and withers away at the sight of others misfortune

eradicated at age 7, combined by ruckus and 80's music
John Lennon, a blonde grandmother. Greetings
and fingers that almost touched

I have a collection of old birthday cards,
and kept the items that I almost died in
shriveled roses and vintage candles

A simple woman, breaking at dawn with the hour
coolly breathing in the midnight disaster
smiling to absolutely nothing in the world
midnight prague Aug 2011
the edges of your face burn like tattered corners on streets that are washed away by tears
your fingers like the letters in my poetry blaze like trembling sun rays, glittering in my eyes
leaving streaks of yellow intimate memories behind
dreamy skin tone ride the waves of soft scents underneath my eye lashes. Breathe.
crying laughter upon the golden sky
raised by tears and late night summer dinners alone/
I gathered your favorite songs and composed a heart of those pretty notes
so that I can play for you at all hours of those short nights
laying next to you and hearing the moon in your chest sink into child like darkness

a face dug into the pillow. A brief gathering for coffee.
5 goodbye kisses.
and a broken anchor tied to my ankles
every time you had to leave
why couldn't I be born next to you
on the same bed under the same sky

our hearts stand like old cities that have been destroyed
by war, and defeat

black and white, the rats infest our streets
the rain water trails down the sidewalk
the buildings are full of death
the ground mourns for the burden placed upon it

and we die
we wither away
we wither away

Isolated in each others mourning.
midnight prague Aug 2011
let us be roses in passing fancy
give me the spring
of this temporary


let the season haunt us with
the budding of new atmospheric life

then depart
to another country
to bloom others who grieved of loneliness
in the

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