#cannon
When the paintbrush of the day
is tucked away
and the sunset dipped
in the forest of the night
the moon wanes and waxes
down the hills of stars
atop that shady wrap.
Who peeps in
where the sleeping beauty wakes
is any one guess
nor it's a amateur's business.
Far from the half lit astral canopy
any bucket lowered
deep down on the ground
into a barrowed well of colours
comes up with a Joseph of Cannon
the firesome story goes on.
The same fire burner
is also the same fire extinguisher
Alexander the Great intrigued life water
cool serene cup of Ab-e Hayat elixir!
Aug 19, 2022
Aug 19, 2022 at 11:55 AM UTC
"You're nothing but cannon fodder,"
He sneers,
"You weren't made to love, sweetie.
You were made to ****
To hurt.
To die.
And there is absolutely nothing that can change that."
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 3:13 PM UTC
There’s residue on my torso, dark twisted and tainted by blood.
I’ve seen this once before, convinced that I would never be here again
The aesthetics are casualties of war.
I’ve lost control of the cannon in my chest.
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 9:25 AM UTC
I have a hole in my life where my love should be.
Every time I meet someone they take from me when they leave.
I’m beginning to become fragile.
Had I known love would be this violent,
I never would’ve allowed my vessel to enter this war.
Too much has been lost building memories with the enemy and there is no way to return from the heartbreak of defeat.
I’m not weak, just broken.
My sails are tattered and weary,
the cannon in my chest was once able to fire at will but now its battered condition has rendered it almost useless because it’s so heavily guarded.
The darkness that surrounds my heart is a protector of sorts,
it’s a heavy blanket of fog that keeps me hidden from the sadness in the world. It’s a reminder of the blood that was shed when I went to battle with her;
it’s the cover I need to rebuild the hull and set sail to reclaim the depths of the oceans that belong to me.
I Captain this ship and I will not be overthrown by the hands of women and I will not be defeated by those who betrayed me!
I refuse to drown in sorrow,
searching for treasures and trinkets that can only be found on a map that no man can read.
I’ve taken heavy fire but I will not surrender.
My ears will not burn by the cry of a siren’s song.
I was sentenced to a life of moving through galaxies of resentment,
cursed to bear the punishment for crimes committed by those who came before me.
I will not be punished for another man’s sin.
I will no longer give in to temptations set in the figure of a dishonorable woman.
Evils will no longer forsake me.
I shall never falter.
Mar 22, 2018
Mar 22, 2018 at 11:15 AM UTC
A one way ticket up,
the man never questioned it, then again, neither did I
Walking down the trail, grapes are raining and the pain in my stomach isn't waning, reality is collapsing all over again and all i can taste is almonds.
These boulders are spiraling out of control, but since when have I had control?
The head of the goat looks me in the eyes as the sun sets over the range,
"Man, you guys are brave", but why?
Am I on the edge?
Nov 30, 2017
Nov 30, 2017 at 1:22 PM UTC
give me a chance
to take you out
for one last night
in the city,
as the angels sleep on the sidewalks,
and the reptiles snore in the white house.
I'm crying alone
while your friends check their phones,
smoke their vapes,
and Brady the dog nudges my leg
with his snout,
soft as a napkin
wiping breadcrumbs off a table.
Chipotle before we write diary entries
for our children who look like your
ex-boyfriend. Tell them stories
past their curfew,
as their heads cloud with dreams,
where nothing but beauty blooms,
and sadness goes to pasture,
to be cooked on a rotisserie,
and spit out into bits.
like your flesh when it's been burnt by a lighter.
so listen up,
finish your game of FIFA,
then make me laugh,
so that I could forget about yesterday's fight.
Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 9:35 PM UTC
some kind of permanence
a ****** in the
woods
slow decomposition
tender restoration
it's place a drift
as if
coalescence made it
float through trees
within. the charcoal maker
the makers wife
and scurrying creatures
with feet and paws
without. smoke. wisps of
first industry leading to
harvested piles seasoning
by breathing clamps.
points of turf covering
designed stacks. an inferno
strangled by it's master
briar hanging loosely
tasting tobacco while listening
for betraying crackles and looking
for beacons of yellow showing as cracks
in dried earth.
fire here is burning money.
burning time
they have none to spare
behind him stacked in sacks
charcoal dry and ready for
Jack the cannon maker.
where finally the fire suppressed by
the maker would burn in forced
air with anger enough to
melt iron. Blast the sky with
sparks and toast Jack's leather.
in the woods the smoke rise and fell
while the master
vent
seals
vent
seals
the whispering clamps
in a clearing.
Aug 22, 2016
Aug 22, 2016 at 2:14 PM UTC
Fools blather about the glory of the fight
And don’t hear the mothers crying at night.
The wives of those marauders on the roam
Cry because their husbands can’t come home.
The children of these battle-addicted men
Go away, eyes ashine, never to return again.
And still the moneyed few, urge on toward
Yet those godlings never pick up a sword.
Mandates from government palaces abound
But not as many as the dead on the ground.
People are expendable to the military,
There are no pensions in the cemetery.
It’s all about honor they tell the press.
Leaving someone else to clean the mess.
Fight for liberty and freedom, they say.
They really mean die for them every day.
It’s all about profit and always was.
It’s that and no more noble cause
When a nation not being attacked
Falsely claims they’re striking back.
Then goes on to leave thousands dead
So they can wear a crown upon their head.
If you see no words of shame in this
Then you have found what is amiss.
These people are not motivated by grace.
They have the look of evil upon their face.
They already own most of what is here
But they keep a running tally all year.
As too much is not enough they crave,
Even if that puts us all in our grave.
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 10:06 PM UTC
I smoke cigarettes to deaden the taste of you against my teeth.
You are.
You will be.
You were the only one.
The bile rises up into my throat like swords slicing the flesh of innocent men.
The rage contaned in me is that of a cannon in the breeze.
I am light.
You are dead.
I loved you with passion.
Red roses.
Satin sheets.
A racing heart.
And a jealous mind.
You slipped through my fingers like hot wax in icewater.
Your name tears my muscles and breaks my bones.
Showers made me feel clean.
Now I'm covered in oil.
I'm drenched in the feeling of your sweat against mine.
The sound of your breath in my ear shatters my reality.
It throws my mind back into a cyclone filled with pretty things you said.
And all of the lies that dripped out from between your lips.
I thought you cared..
I thought we meant something.
We were nothing greater than myself.
We were nothing greater than the air we breathed.
And the wars we set inside ourselves.
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 8:30 AM UTC
Awakened by cannonfire,
unmistakable,
LOUD.
Today is Luxembourg National Day
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 3:35 PM UTC
the flash of a camera
is a tumultuous thing
a blink of light
a subtle ring
behind your eyes
as you blink in surprise
shying away
from the flash of a moment to stay
immortalized on the tiny screen
no guessing however unforeseen
you pull your cheeks
you face feels tight
only the smile you chose when you saw the white
in the blinding vortex
of a camera light
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 3:06 PM UTC
Precious complications
The will to be impressed
Has gone away
To far forward
Mindless feeble altercations
The fear of what is left
Is hear to stay
Please refrain from harmony
If you can't see
What is infront of you
I'll be forced to tell a lie
Don't make me take it to the grave
My left hand sank through a bible
Waiting for the world to burn
Beyond the day
I was waiting for freedom
True freedom travels in a mask
Disguised as tainted oxygen
Breath and believe the true
The abyss is calling you
I found
Life above
The cannons of bliss
Firing In the dark
We broke
Love below
Untimely cliches
So we could leave a mark
These eyes
Built the gun
Now who is the man
Trying to speak the truth
I found life above
The cannons of bliss
I will remember you
No need toy with stop and go
The will to be alone
Wakes up the day
Unquestionable treason
Crack a smile
and break the bones
The hands of birthright given thrones
Move in the shade
Please keep you distance
I will refrain from here
Where uncertainty is clear
It's a life I'm accustomed to
Moving through the motions
To save me
If you can change my mind
I ask you do it under wraps
In secret searching for freedom
Now and then
I'll attempt to defend the pain
Refurbish the past
Try to remember why
Now and then
I'll attempt to defend the pain
Prove that I'm insane
And make my way from there
If we can
Let's remember to **** the pain
Revisit the facts
And know that this is why
True freedom travels in a mask disguised as tainted oxygen
Breath and believe the truth
In not allowing cannon fire
To become white noise to you
I found
Life above
The cannons of bliss
Firing In the dark
We broke
Love below
Untimely cliches
So we could leave a mark
These eyes
Built the gun
Now who is the man
Trying to speak the truth
I found life above
The cannons of bliss
I will remember you
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 6:40 PM UTC
Yes, that's surely quite a few,
but you don't give a **** do you?
To be quite frank, neither do I,
but sometimes I wish that I knew why.
Don't get me wrong,
I'm not depressed.
I rocketed out from that cannon
long, long ago.
Okay, two weeks ago.
Shut up.
Anyway, dear readers invisible,
I'm happy now, and it's incredible.
It was a door, it was a light,
that led me from the longest night.
And now my only taunting fright
is if my lungs will be alright.
For I was screaming so long and hard,
that now my voice is broken shards.
In retrospect, it was meant to be,
but now this mess, I have to clean.
I'd like to put it back together,
Ideally so it'd look brand new,
but I can't find any
super glue,
you don't happen to have some,
do you?
Hmmm.
Christ, fine. I'll do it myself.
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 1:14 AM UTC
I'd make art that wasn't the equivalent of processed
microwave food, without the "gourmet" label.
Then again equal validity in creation is only debatable
if you're an ******* who believes any of this has meaning.
If you're taking yourself seriously,
you're going to get ****** up by
the **** end of this joke; Art is more than these
observable qualities of reality. It is beyond us.
However, everything we are is made of the stuff.
We are art. Life is art. Life is meaningless
Art is meaningless.
We are meaningless. You.
You are meaningless as well.
Roll on snare... None of this holds real validity.
Abuse of cymbal.
In this lifetime I want so many things that simply
will not happen. She says my "dreams" are floaty
although I know I won't live to see them.
Life flies by so fast it's a wonder we don't get
tickets. I want light that moves at 40mph
and scorches on impact. Explodes like fireworks.
It should glow; green or blue.
I'd use it to cook these dinners,
burn these notebooks,
**** these mother
******* guitars.
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 11:32 PM UTC