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Neal Emanuelson Feb 2015
Sitting so peacefully on a window sill,
Eyeing the world as it sees you cry.
Your window becomes your gateway,
Your world, and your prison in ****.

A transparent frame to focus your sight
On the joys of others not known.
You’d love to be with them, but alas
You are a simple outcast behind glass.

As your heavy sigh breathes a canvas
You toy around with your written feelings.
This message, shown to the onlookers,
Will be your communication and aid tonight.

Send them the message that you want out,
Out of this life behind a clear barrier.
Find that the one looking inside your world
Could be your own self, wanting to look in.

© 2004
Neal Emanuelson Feb 2015
Sly chances fade into the day
Inviting inverted obsessions
Taking its pleasures from the air
Breathed deep by light
Stained by angels and lovers
Healing to hurt more than pain
Speaking on thirds of needs
Walking miles of uncured steel
Impure by the thirst hearts leak
Drenched in hour-less hopes unfed
Left stained by starvation's gluttony

Lonely as disciples of light and dark
Separated by the dawning sun and setting moon
Nervous and twitching, unwatched
Keeping eyes fixated on flowers
Wilting and blooming in seconds
Unlike the humanity settled in minds
Blaming until accusation converts to disease
Fearfully and wonderfully made in ****'s garden
Cultivated in the arteries of misery and loathing
Claiming bodies when used to spread restlessness
Lost in every word, growing cycles, created and pursued

Called by name and underneath all faiths
A sightless demon, kind and malicious with fallen tears
Diluted and taken with holy darkness by prayer
Anointed and desecrated with motions of heat
Written in scars and infatuated on sect dreams
Instilled for the beast that beats in *******
Void of taint and unpredictable by reality
Less to imagine when used in vain on street corners
Currency for the pleasure trapped in forsaken lips
Shackled to flesh like the cemented wounds sought after
By the stories of remorse and unrivaled insecurities

In saviors' fleeting lights, forgotten in memories of stone
Deep inside the walls painted of regrets and distorted by anguish
Synthetic to thoughts unbound to promise relief of fear
Reborn on racks screened from shrines in ironed will
An invincible corruption that grinds and gnaws holes in sleep
Stranded upon the skin in waves of emotional force poured out
Bottled and sold to ****** the clever yet troubled waters of youth
Placed in sheets by pillows, laid down amidst the confusion
Unquestioned these still born children of non-bridled futures
Glistened with rings, torn by time and parted on death's inauguration
This is love, shadowed and justified, always undefeated for all

©2006
Neal Emanuelson Feb 2015
A soul left in darkness' wake can yet again be freed
For there's always a crown hidden behind the color of fire
And this fire can always warm a heart so cold
And yet smirks on burning time's tested and tempted dreams
To provide a sweet, yet bitter taste of love's own mercy

A gracious fall is love, the last denominator always is pain
And the pain is often greater than the love itself
At its shores there is hope, then the full and blue moons, light and bright sparks in stars
And within this hope, lie the wishes and dreams of the fallen few
Dormant as the saffron in the rocks, hushed as the silence in the glaciers

For a sinner's love is his love to sin
For a saint, it's the best sermon that life's seen
The rose slowly chokes under the gaze of discontent
Charming as a black rose, a woeful soul now begins
Entwining into the lovelorn chains of thorns, white lilies altered to red


Now as a feather falls to crush a heart
A speck of sand ending this meteoric blast
With the soul now resting in the darkness once again
The rose breathes a silent whisper and disappears into the air
Molding to be the enigma a lover beholds

The kaleidoscopic perfection of the faucets in life
To contradict the evils that is ever present in our hearts

© 2005
Neal Emanuelson Feb 2015
A fragrant night that keeps emotions nervous
An uncertainty that held hands, bound by trust
A falling of boundaries that separate the thoughts
This is the dream that poisoned water.

A callous entity calls a lover untrue
The life of one to banish a world to seclusion
These days of old to threaten the hours of new,
This is the heart that poisoned water.

Silent whispers that broke a decibel of skin
A feeling that betrays and leaves unbounded pain
Fed by the ripples of a confused desires of love
This is the poison that seeps into water.

Snippets of memories deteriorated in my hands
Anguish that sits in a vial, colored by the eyes
None drink, but the vials refill from the hurt that is poured
This the source of the poison in water.

© 2005
Neal Emanuelson Feb 2015
Yesterday, the tears woke again, thoughts of a curious passerby a land in which time forgets
On and on into this reality, this is a world of simplistic imperfection calling you within
Used for dedicated love, the seeds are never hated amongst the plenty, for it’s a cause of death

Gained by the dualities that exists and separate in the sanctity of our own neglectful hearts
Advanced your gentle mind into a world you don’t see, a love you don’t have, in the nothingness of hope
Ventured into her heart, her closed door should remain sealed, not for prying eyes
Enervated by thoughts held back, but the confusion brought to own the disease of life

Measured by the heart full, not by the rules and distance for an monthly god-stopper
Educate me in the rules you still don’t understand, but heed for pointless reasons

Abound to the psychopathic qualities in your haven, a joy for pain to relish in spite of loving

Bless a sweet taste left in your mouth, you’ve done so much for this, but the deserving must be
In desperation, to see the fruits of the vile tree, and eat thy fill until curiosity gains best
Trickling down faces, the red juice of pain, the immortal emotion for all to feel
Truth flows from droplets, craved by the disturbed dirt of aimless requisitions
Enter, and taste the end of all things to come and the beginning of all things to end
Reverbs of happiness appeal not, unspoken of your tongue, sacred blasphemy unto your skin

To idolize the principle in life unlike all others, the survival of the fleeting revolution
Aerated thoughts that drops your mind into pools of relaxed torture, kiss the calming hate
Sleep with the sins of life and become born again into a breed unknown of humanity
Torn and scattered within themselves, a **** that kills to love one another in anguish
End eternity spent with the fruits, as it leaves a bitter taste on your lips… a romance to spark us all.

© 2005
Neal Emanuelson Feb 2015
Conscious thoughts of her crying for days on end
And more thoughts of how things could be, if changed
If given to her all the energy, that would take away
What would there be left to save, if she gave it up?
She’d take willingly the love, the one she’d ****
Not sure of how it will last, it was used up before
Insecurities within her silence, she’s been that way for days
But that’s the distance that she hates, what amazes her to do this

It is said it’s never too late to grow up and learn right
But there’s always another who looks at the past to laugh
At our mistakes as we love each other, afraid of it together
The pain separates equally, but you lived without me before
It’s no tragedy for trying, much worse guilt for sacrifice
Now tell me who’s lying and who’s given life yet another chance
To complicate the open talk, clench words in her fist
No pain with voiced raised, it was never there to begin

Holding on to hold more, to kiss clean the lips of the taint
She lives lonely in her world, still more waiting in her rage
And it eats at her insides… to think more of this trait
And it’s the only thing that will keep her amused
She takes what she wants and she gets what she claims
She’s waiting by the water, her only source for the calm
It’s the chance to heal her fear and time lies in wait
Prowling for the reason, the reason the hate won’t recede

Nowhere to go, yet there is a place to be
She wanders no roads and travels more than wind
Spanning across her dismal mindscape, hurt till no end
Disturbed by that one being that gave up so much for her
But could not give enough, so the living perished
Forgotten by the romancers of the stars, having their way
Disposable time for a replaceable feeling, she gave in to the hole
That consumed her little heart, blackened by the true words

© 2005
Neal Emanuelson Feb 2015
She cares for the child as her love did mature
Pleasure with herself once more in his embrace
Recreated and untainted till his eyes peer the world
Blinded by the fold of cloth against his face

Then comes the night and freedom of watch
And the child unwrapped his eyes to the darkness
The darkness with the eyes of a sad girl
Desperation with her lonely scarred shell

And with delightful confusion he
In turn cares for the darkness in her pain
Wiping tears and making joyous times bloom
Even in the worst of years as the secret is held

But the child was soon to be discovered
She had found his eyes tainted by love
And diffused with her tears his skin was moist
Thus his body began to unravel for the loose emotion

Quickly taking the darkness by her hand
She placed her own blood inside the fold
Sharp stings of uneasy pleasure shot forth
Steadfast are the bond now between them

This equivalent exchange of dark blood to canvas
That adds this source of evil to the re-creation
An inevitable mixture now with a solemn love
Of darkness and innocence which she had endured

© 2005
Neal Emanuelson Feb 2015
The limbs crying for so much more
Pain that it has never missed in its life
Lines so jagged like that of a rigged cliff
As her fingernails pursued their etchings

And she watched with glee with every action
No silence remorse, just a pure sensation of hope
That I would continue diving deeper than my need
Until she would be able to swim in all her **** for life

Condescension of tears falling crookedly from her eyes
Too much laughter that rested on her soft lips
That quickly took me in for her satisfaction
For the cuts that were never healed bleed more

Touching inside me, she ripped through me
Taking me apart slowly and putting together another me
A mere doll of my former past and my former mind
The betterment to her society and a shell conceived of pure love

And yet the sacrifice was hers alone that night
Giving up so much to please herself in her mind
And molding again what she had craved in life
To appease the struggle of eyes that followed her relentlessly

With her re-creation done, her canvas inanimate
Without the spark of a kiss to ignite his soul
She turns to his missing heart of blackened gold
And brings to life the love of her ill-fated past.

© 2005
Neal Emanuelson Feb 2015
I am a black foot angel, wingless and forgotten,
tasting immortal memories with stronger passion.
I will grab this bottle and toss eons of romance away
because the angel I loved broke my dark sky heart.

I sit underwater with the trees that sway upside down,
taking breaths of nitrogen mixed in with my tears.
All rocks unturned in the current that is never quenched,
darkened skin from the lava I bathe to heat my tranquility.

Cooled down in the rainforests that hide my dreams,
underneath the diseased soil for my incompetence.
I irrigate the lands I’ve sown in my **** to grow another day,
yet no fruition from my most fertile feelings from drought.

I follow the clouds that flood my misery in these valleys
and cry with the sun as it descends the haven of eyes,
speak with the moon that tells of lone lit stars and lovers
just to wait until it lullabies a quiet lunar night once more.

For the angels I knew that burst open my aerated wounds,
to caress the worry of mortal lives given to all sinners,
uneasy paths that fly upward as the rivers I sent unto my coasts
disgraced when I nail my hopeless love to the omnipotent cross.

Now I gently slip away into the kempt trunks of friends hidden,
an incredible place of secrecy and all-knowing substance,
only to leave again into the horizon that cuts me whole
from the pictures meant to make us all suffer internally.

I rest in the cradle of reality, born on a vine of trust,
this gracious corridor inside me is laden with unfamiliar doors.
My hope sparkles falsely under apprehension, which ruined the walls,
I point the finger, but can only blame the lost fool I see in my mirror.

I ponder my possibilities for flying back into that angel’s heart,
since I lay here in my bed, comatose to my clockwork feelings,
A newborn to a lovelorn life has grown feeble in understanding.
I await inanimate, inside as I cast my vessel into a new dedication of failure.

© 2004
Neal Emanuelson Feb 2015
Is the poisoning of hearts
Really the death of love?
Misshapen thoughts of assumptions
Claim tragedy within pure laughter.
Apologies wither as the forgotten &
Irreversible damage has been dealt.

Reveries of vicissitudes that scar
Hands that bleed endlessly.
It is not the cuts of silvered slashes
That can make some bleed on the inside.
Forgive me not, a sinner of all days, but
Do not fall into the abyss, fall into my arms.

Pain ceases as you draw close,
Wrapped within the flames of desire.
But a new pain begins, will it continue
To harm us or diminish with a cherry kiss?
Fail safe conclusion, hearted confessions
Unbeknownst to life but to lover's eye.

Forget-me-nots of white roses painted
Crimson by carved, etched hands.
Fear not the words I speak for they
Are never the end of my being.
They are the words of a forgotten moment
Tossed into the sea with anguished rain.

© 2004
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