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c Aug 22
The tune hums along in G
And the lights buzz softly

I am being taken somewhere
Someplace beneath it all
Underroot, I am
Descending
So deep
The dreary sun
And her arms
Cannot reach
Lower
Than those commonplace people
And all their happenings

It is cold here
Below the surface
And the door appears, open
As I
Recede

--
c
c Aug 22
It’s all taking too long--
The commute, the wait
The procession, the speech
The descent, the dark--
I’ve dressed for the occasion
And repose in my finest robe
I just wish
He’d hurry up
Already

--
c
Hanna Aug 17
And of course, it was in vain.
I guess it's good to have my feet touch the ground again.
But I miss that feeling of air.

And of course, I stumbled.
My weightlessness gave way and crumbled.
I don't bleed when I fall.

And of course, I knew it.
Heart so big, I outgrew it.
And swallowed up the light.

And of course, the descent aches my bones and breaks my will.
Hurts me dearly and yet, still,

I let myself tumble down into the Earth
and wait until I next can touch that sky.
Pagan Paul Aug 12
.
Blush the sky with teardrop rips,
let the blood flow free
to spill 'pon the cheeks and fall,
creating puddles of coy crimson.
A mind slowly disintegrates,
no-one tries to halt the decline
and it washes away reason,
the victim unable to resist submission.
Corpuscular clashes with synaptic
and the result transforms tragedy
from the root of all sadness
into an icon of blind worship.
The teardrops freeze on a blank face
that masks a venomous enemy
wrapped in a Hood of poison
that swallows the blushing sky.
A cage of pitch black threads
patiently studies the inner pendulum,
the tick tock of search and destroy,
time weaving its panic dark webs.
Psychotic anxiety in the waiting room
as horses dance on candle flames,
the Knight checkmates his own King,
the pawn is an easily taken prisoner.
The coy puddles of crimson burst,
shattering the mask to reveal another,
a shadow-hand coils its claim,
and the journey begins, cometh the Hood.



© Pagan Paul (11/08/19)
.
Amaris Apr 29
When you’re on top of the world
The high is unlike anything that exists
But the fall is a long, long way down
A motivation for those above to persist
Word of warning to those still climbing
Hold your desires close and don’t let go
All of us fall eventually, inevitably, but
Distance is so much worse when it’s slow
Steve Page Apr 3
I had watched his glow go down
and I saw the hole swallow him whole.
I now watched his light rise
and I saw his eyes rest on mine,
newly ascended.
Easter brings hope
nja Jan 27
She’s highness, deaf but not muted.
Still dignified, past perfect, but still pushing.
Withering tea addict,
laughs at her own sophisticated and immature jokes.
Farts.
How the highness gracefully descend.

Relaxed, reclined,
hands placed still on abdomen, yet they’re itching.
Noisy breaths lift her sinking body,
till she’s plastered to the bed,
not quite motionless.
Can’t decline.
Sits up. Peering, active, but stunted.
My grandmother is a withering icon.
nja Jan 8
She’s highness, deaf but not muted.
Still dignified, past perfect, but still pushing.
Withering tea addict,
laughs at her own sophisticated and immature jokes.
Farts.
How the highness gracefully descend.

Relaxed, reclined,
hands placed still on abdomen, yet they’re itching.
Noisy breaths lift her sinking body,
till she’s plastered to the bed,
not quite motionless.
Can’t decline.
Sits up. Peering, active, but stunted.
This one's about my grandmother. She used to be this royal lady and she still is but with deteriorating hearing.
IPM Nov 2018
~~~

My gut spirals swiftly
downwards the twilight zone
a throne of skin and bone
speaks
"Thine sin you must atone."
Sat down, below red skies
above my head, familiars
reflection shines in eyes
of thousand flies perched atop rotten meat.
I rip my heart out and eat
it too.
Ignites a fuel deep inside
the hollow depths of this mind.
A darkness rose, roamed long ago
here
speaks to me now:
"Fear not what is to come,
sacrifice the living,
**** the young, burn their lungs,
eat their tongues an-"
"What madness is this?"
aksed my image
the ghastly apparition
"This plane is not unnatural,
tis' only a future you invision..."

~~~
Gabriel burnS Oct 2018
Yellow,
October LEAVES
A word slips out
The door
To haunt my trees
Pleas in gusts of
DON’T
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