#gilded
I asked him gently,
“My friend, why park your chariot
in a spot meant for the displayed?”
The man turned, chest inflated like a peacock,
and snapped,
“What do you want from me?”
For a heartbeat,
my ego whispered,
“Ask him for a million dollars…
and maybe his watch too.”
But my soul nudged me and said,
“Calm down, dervish.
He is already poor
poor in wisdom.”
So I smiled and replied,
“It is my spot, brother.
Reserved for those
who are shown,
not those who only show off.”
He stood there, confused,
trying to translate the language of humility
using the dictionary of arrogance.
Rich in metal,
poor in meaning
a Rolls Royce driven by a man
still searching for first gear in his soul.
Dec 3, 2025
Dec 3, 2025 at 10:33 PM UTC
I frolic among ruins, my own creation
I dance with enemies long dead
Their ghosts still whisper condemnation,
I laugh at words unsaid.
A crown of thorns, a throne of dust,
I rule the wreckage with delight.
Let them curse me if they must—
Their shattered bones are quite the sight.
I tip the scales, I rig the game,
I drink the venom, wear the blame.
What fun is virtue, meek and hollow,
When sin is sweeter to swallow?
I set the fire, I stoked the blaze,
Watched it burn with a gilded gaze.
Regret’s a game for fools to play—
I’d raze it all again today.
What joy it is to know damnation
And still refuse to change or stand,
To greet the flames with exultation,
A willing fate at my own hand.
Jan 31, 2025
Jan 31, 2025 at 9:05 PM UTC
Dorée, a little bit of gold upon the world
A sun ray amongst the clouds.
Even when Spring fell to Summer
And the sun moved further South
Did the light of the sun still reach
This cold Northern Realm.
Sail on golden girl,
I’ll be your bridge to Texas.
Yet even the sun fades for hours a day;
Without the sun slowly darkness claws
And the little bit of gilding you
Wrought in my life faded.
Golden leaves in autumn now begin to fall;
The sun gone –
Twilight began a year or so ago -
I awake to the gilding of you missing;
Gone, taken by the wind.
Sail on golden girl,
I can no longer follow.
Dorée, always a little bit of gold in my life:
A sunbeam across a dark sky,
Left a little bit darker without you.
The places we shared will never be the same;
Many are already gone or changed.
Could you hug me one last time
From heaven?
Forever golden, Dorée. Forever golden.
Sep 29, 2023
Sep 29, 2023 at 11:15 AM UTC
As the periods of school-going were tossed away like paperplanes
Remind me of the dazzling eyes of the panes and ladies across
Which are too far back now to touch
And the memories are much like a lover's argument
Apr 21, 2020
Apr 21, 2020 at 8:29 AM UTC
Sad songs make me beautiful
I listen to you and you hear it when you speak
Some moments are about breaking the body
So the spirit can soar
It's about how we discipline ourselves
In order to be free
In this gilded frame we live in
The picture is not yet totally finished
God continues to paint
Everyday is a color
Are you listening?
It's feeling that shouldn't go away
It's a moment that will pass away
This life is temporary as the clouds in the sky
My life has nothing
I am complete
Jan 5, 2020
Jan 5, 2020 at 1:50 AM UTC
Run though the alleys in my mind, running from these distorted thoughts. Should be careful to what you might find, for I am a misleading bright red gleaming apple. Polished on the outside, but slowly decaying on the inside. Never be too certain when you bite a gleaming gilded fruit
Jan 4, 2020
Jan 4, 2020 at 2:45 AM UTC
The girl I saw today was not broken
Was not gilded
No, she was solid gold
Maybe worn down a little
The girl I saw today
Was a soft precious metal
That’s what happens when you’re soft
But flickering lights gently caress the orbs where light has not yet washed the tears away
The girl I saw today felt not necessarily calculated
But ready to put up a fight
And avoid an argument
Because the girl I saw today is too soft for arguments and too good for people
Who won’t fight for her
Who won’t even look at her
Who won’t even rearrange sounds or characters of the English language and blow frequent vibrations through the air
Hell the only thing they can do is sing
The girl I saw today would want someone to sing to her
Not just text her back
Gold is not cheap, the girl I saw today said
Gold is not new, gold is ancient
The girl I saw today said that
Gold has secrets and beauty because it is malleable
It is evolving, from shiny to dull to hammered
The girl I saw today is soft and allows light to wash over her gently, she knows the vocal cords vibrate carefully with charming tones,
And she knows
she
is pure
Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 9:42 PM UTC
I woke up in the middle of the night,
and realized that I am more free than I have ever been in my life.
Yet,
All I want to do
is show up on your doorstep--
perhaps in one of those rainstorms you love so much better than me--
and beg you to strip the gold leaf from the bars,
because this cage I’ve built of one-way fantasies
is still better than sleeping alone,
and the gilding is all I have to offer
that could possibly compare with the brilliance of her sun.
Aug 24, 2015
Aug 24, 2015 at 11:13 PM UTC
emergence is an act of rebellion.
our eyelids peaking open like rusty curtains
as we steadily count backwards
5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … 1
climbing from our morning covers in one swift movement
like the bold musketeer ready to pierce his opponent.
allowing the cold to wash over our body
towards the to do lists and outdoor morning mist.
legs miraculously sprung to life from our dreams
seconds ago resting in a field of sunlit streams.
allowing forced smiles to emerge in the mirror
if the natural ones forgot to attend our morning ritual.
those cowards.
allowing our own smiles to send butterflies down our spines
if our lovers forgot to play their part.
those ********
our routines steadying us on the road
outside the house
into the yard
outside the fence
into the deli
out of your mind
into the grind
all forming like some rapid fire kiss of motion
where emerging and departing
become inseparable lovers.
and we cherish this sort of alchemy
where our paints emerge as paintings,
where our words turn into poems
that string along
melodies
into song
for
the pulsing of life echoes within
calmly waiting
to emerge
from the gilded cage
we are meant to burst open
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 8:44 PM UTC
The guilt is so great
it's gilt in gold.
It shouldn't be.
But my gilded guilt
was gilt in gold by me.
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 3:08 PM UTC