we are the masters of self-destruction
trying to numb the pain with wine
and drugs
and smoke filling up our lungs,
we write down in lines with no rhyme
all the things
that make our souls burn and die.
our poems bleed
we drink their blood
then we write again,
listening to stupid songs all night
wishing sometimes we were deaf
wishing we were dead.
we let the doors open
anyone with a knife can come inside
cutting our hearts in half,
any tear is welcome
to create the ocean around us
in which we deliberately drown ourselves.
masters of self-destruction,
our bodies are temples where dying souls hide,
we run till our legs are broken
jump off cliffs
go between sharks' cheeks
forgetting to sleep
to dream
we bleed
we drink
we love
and hurt
it's a madmen game we play
each day
laughing hysterically
while slowly taking steps to the graves
we dug for ourselves,
the masters of self-destruction we are
lunatics
worshiping what's not for us to adore
crying
hiding
falling again
and again.
legs broken,
hearts cut and eaten
flesh ripped from our bones
lungs full of water
ears burnt
our eyes scream
but that's fine
'cause we are the masters of self-destruction
and our life is just a mad game

Though you are deep into
Your night and the Fade is closing
In,
And the walls seem to collapse
The air around you,

The dawn will come:

Birth of light
Antidote to the dark,
Burst into depressions
That softly take me away.
Hope is tomorrow,
A light of the moment,
The sun can rise on you now,

The dawn will come.

Throughout the soul
Petrified on a slab,
Awakening on the promise
Of phosphorus morning.

In the immortal moment,
Know of the dawn,
From Heaven even
Angels fall.

I fell from the mountain peak, I climbed alone,
in to the blue depth of her lonely heart, frothing hot.

She feigned surprise,"Do not know how this happened"
I remembered seeing her creeping in to my thoughts before.

Was it a conspiracy we both hatched together,a subconscious plot!

Did I slip and fall in to her expectant heart,waiting warmly for me?
The way to a maiden's heart and the secret of a man's craftiness
are unknown; we decide our love, is to be accepted, with an open heart
Are we spooked, trapped inside the logic of a Salvador Dali painting?

As I set out
To jot down this poem
I had no earthly idea
Of what would transpose

And who all would be
Joining along
I'm as surprised as you
To these goings on

I don't recollect
Any of this being nearby
All the glimmer and glamor
Catching my eye

With my mind letting loose
In the wondering why
All of these characters
Are invading my rhymes

There are seals riding trikes
Uniformed Taiwanese
Clowns and their like
With smiley faced knees

Lepords in tights
Like we need more of these
A Kardashian or  two
To put our minds at ease

Daryl Hall and John Oates
Singing loud 80's tunes
And what would be a poem
Without a cow jumping over the moon

Or a chimpanzee
Swinging through the stanzas with ease
Using the tails of snakes
Like a flying trapeze

There's even a racoon
By the name of Rocky we know
Using his Boogaloo
To sweep dust from the poem

And look it's Bob Hope
Selling soap on a rope
To keep it all clean
With a rated "G" tone

With so much going on
Inside of this poem
Guess it's best I stop here
As this has gotten rather long...

"I never made a mistake in my life.
I thought I did once, but I was wrong."

Charles M Shulz


There was once a greenhouse
Built so strong and high
The architect a genius
And built it to the sky

There was an imperfect one
Standing at the pane
The maker of the edifice
Thought she should be shamed

So he found a polished stone
Just the perfect size
He lobbed it with tremendous force
Got glass in HIS eyes!

There are *some who're perfect
Mighty, strong, and hale
This is their tragic error

And they should not chuck SHALE!


SoulSurvivor
(C) 4/5/2016

Deep breaths become chokes and gasps...
As the air seem to get thinner.
I had promised that I shall not fall today
for people to see.
But I had just realised...
That my eyes have already betrayed me.

So here I sit, out in the clear.
Out in the rain.
Face partially drenched from the spray.
Head turned away from passing umbrellas.
I thank god for the rain,
for even if they notice me.
They wouldn't be able to tell droplets from tears.