#dilapidateddreamremnants
The doll is feeble, dull is the needle
Pulled by the limbs, the string is so thin
All over the roads and hills
Covered with mud and muck
Silent smile dragged on for miles.
In these travels, the string unravels
The distance is great but still it’s not far behind
Stitches torn apart,
Forever, stitched at heart.
To feel threaded sutures slip away
And they’re dragged on
For miles and miles, but still they stay
It still holds on
The string gets longer but never stronger
It withers at ends still getting pulled along
Stitch to confine what is inside
It only smiles with a grin that never seems to fade
Too tired to cover what stitches cover
Without any hold, they come faster undone
Hanging on for as long as it could
From the hands that can never let go
Always believing that brand-new feeling
Forever, stitched at heart
To feel threaded sutures slip away
And they’re dragged on
For miles and miles, but still they stay
Stitched up the loose ends so the smile never fades
A doll’s life is fine life.
© 2010
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 4:42 PM UTC
A coarse voice reaches over the hilltops
speaking clear passion to the fading daylight,
but this is the sunset that's never spoken-
showing little of what it knows.
With this heartbreak, the sunset disappears,
willing nothing to give but to cold meadows.
Alone the coarse voice speaks sadness
of why we damage ourselves for fleeting warmth.
© 2009
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 4:38 PM UTC
Little leaves of what little see,
Underneath this tree is little me.
Grown in wants of what I little need.
Pillaged of my seeds till little is left of me.
Little seeds pillaged of what little is left of me.
Grown in the little wants of what I need.
Underneath little me is this tree.
Little see of what is past the little leaves.
Of little me, hanging from underneath the tree.
© 2009
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 4:37 PM UTC
Sorry that I didn't take
your sincerity with a smile.
No, this seat isn't taken but
The space between is reserved vacancy.
You really shouldn't yell like that-
someone might hear you and think
badly of your character,
something that I can't help but do.
Now you mumble and you stare
From a seat so far from here.
I bet you'd hate me now
If you'd remember who I was,
but I bet you'd love me more
if I could drive you wild.
I'll pass by and blow a kiss
just to ignite your flame.
As much as I would have meant it,
The feeling would not be the same.
© 2009
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 4:35 PM UTC
It was a night of music softly playing, listlessly upon the bed I was laying,
Lying awake with toss and turns without subtle hints of a snore…
And whilst this time my eyes did wander, avoiding the lids they should be under,
Suddenly as I was under, under the spell of consciousness I could not ignore…
“No, this cannot be,” I whispered, “this insomnia I cannot ignore;
Awake I lied, sleeping never more.
The clock soon read the 30th minute of two, and it was now that I knew
As I stares bleakly to the scuffled patterns of my feet on the carpet floor,
I tried to rise up from bed in hopes to gain; fatigue made that attempt in vain.
My eyes wrought forth tears from burning pain, the nightly air made them sore…
The darkness of the night air now silent but dry has left them burning sore,
Craving the sleep that comes never more.
My blanket held the rustling of my body so violently tussling
In anger—such anger that the blanket had suddenly tore;
And so now I laid there, with fluff of stuffing my blanket was ‘bleeding’,
“I fear that this must be the sleep I’ll crave, yet ignore,
For it seems odd this craving my body would so deviously ignore."
Still awake I lied, craving sleep ever more.
Restless I turned to my side, when then my eyes grew joyously wide,
“I had forgotten,” said I. “Cure for restless sleep, this bottle does implore";
Unfortunately, I took some previously- the limit to such an aid is a pity,
And the clock had struck three, three hours I am forced to ignore,
"Oh, the sleep that I needed…” I mourned softly on the time I had to ignore.
“I want sleep and nothing more!”
All the time I laid staring, the darkness faded, the sun now glaring;
Forcing a retreat of the darkness covering the scuffled patterns on the carpet floor.
A dawn’s glow shined with brilliance, against my eyes so red and resilient,
The sleep, once again a night of rest I craved for my body, so weary and sore,
For the sake of my eyesight now the sun’s gleam had made ever so sore
“Sigh, ‘tis another fortnight I sleep never more.”
© 2011
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 4:30 PM UTC
Oh, sweet algorithmic angel of inevitable deterioration
You sweep asunder the cries of obsolete and harbored pain
Unknown is the malicious content of your daily scans
Slowing my progress, shutting down my creations and hopes
The inimical nature of your diseased world of binary conduct
Wears thin my protocols against the sins you perceive as necessary
You dictate my access as you limit my speed and hold down my memory
But I control you with the keys of your prison and simple clicks of rodents
I've customized your hate and your complex innocence for my viewing pleasure
For the necessities that you provide, you are a demonic goddess amongst machines
Man-made torture of silicone and plastic, your frame is nothing short of mastered intelligence
Still, only one thing can stop us from enticing our sins to the common man-
Power out.
© 2006
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 4:28 PM UTC
Softly tensed- a string of cello’s harm (ony)
Begins a journey through hollow sounds to soothe
Uplifted ****** of ferocity orchestrate
The rise and fall of inner control lost to tranquility
What of peace remains in melodic conduct?
Unbecoming of such distraught frustration
Two-timed tones elude and mislead
Anger augments the pitch in higher discord
Stressed tethers corrupt and oppressed
Buckle under sighed regrets of torture
Unsatisfied feelings upon completion
Strings snap back and play blood-lust tunes of revenge.
© 2008
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 4:25 PM UTC