Tarnished past how long will it last?
Born in exile what am I to do?
So afraid of the Future, Oh yes how bout you?
Destroy me?  You have.
Brought me down til I was nothing.
All because you knew I would be something.
A lot of motivation will get you a long way.
But it takes non stop dedication at the end of the day.
Smile in my face don’t disrespect my back.
Don’t even want to see your face as a matter of fact.
Your tarnishing ways gave me eternal pain.
What can you possibly say that there was to gain?
Tears I couldn’t cry because I never knew they existed.
Tarnished memories leaves my mind twisted.
Trust is a Fear Factor will you loose the game?
But shall I thank you for things will never be the same?
Belittling me, at the same time you grew my mind.
Peace and Joy I have received, I truly hope you find.
Look me in my eyes that’s if you could do.
Pathetic and ashamed I would be too.
The feeling is great when I arise from a slumber.
Your tarnishing ways gave you tarnishing days you can’t cumber.

You are my
Ensorcelled Elysium,
You are my
Eden Dream.

You cascade
Upon my Dreamscape,
Enshrine my slumber in
A flowered gale of aromatic petals
That envelop me, beckon me
To herald the rebirth
Of Days of Yore.

You vein
The Glistening Glade of Memories
With your
Brooks of Aqueous Emerald.

Tis' the
Phantasmagoric Plane
Where still
My wayworn spirit wanders, wearily
In search of the magic
To enfetter
The Hands of Fate
(For they conspire against us).

Swifter than your descent
Into my soul
(Five seconds still and flat)
By
The nexus of your affections,
You evanesced
Like vapor,
Yet
I shall not concede to
The Malevolent Matriarch of Destiny.

For you
O, Breath of Life,
Forsook me not
So I sublime all stains
Tarnishing my flesh
By cries to The Ethereal.

At midday
Awaiting the Twilight
I long for
The birth of The Womb of Aether’s
Progeny,
Starlit winds.

I muse
Swimmingly in Seas of Reminiscence,
Banished from that Blackened Bastion
Of Shadowed Heavens,
For when darkness shrouds
My dreams can be seen
Draping the skies.

I then fathom,
You must not be far off,
Wishing,
Hoping,
Believing
That perhaps
You too
Wonder upon stars
Longing to find that one
That entwines us anew.

You shall alight,
Upon me once more
As
August Sun’s Nimbus
(If only for a moment)
Is thwarted
By
Ebony Miasma
That drenches Cimmerian skies.

In search
Of Ardor’s Light abiding in
The Sylvan Shrine of Your Numinous Eyes
I plead that
The Crag oppress
The Coals of Tribulation,
Until my anguish is
A Diamond Heart.

The pilgrimage
I must bear,
Must be traveled by
The Adamantine alone.

Where have you gone,
Tree of Life?
Why have you withered,
Yggdrasil?

Do I possess
The Eradia of Souls,
By which you shall
Effloresce?

I would halt the cogs of time,
Relinquish my liberty,
To slumber for eternity
In crystal stasis
By your side.

Even in that crystalline quietude,
I would be eminent,
I would be exalted,
I would be ennobled,
In the knowingness that
Your
Stalwart Heart
Radiates
Just beside me.

I exhale Empyrean Winds
When rapt in reverie,
Yearning to be
Captive to your devotion,
Yours alone.

The Bliss of Your Most Holy Kiss
Would signet me
With the
Bounty of Your Name
Burnishing the skin
On my lips.

Though ephemeral,
Your presence divined,
Your presence
Was my anointing.

To be solaced
By the astral resonance emitted
By your touch
Sent the
Pulse of Nirvana
Surging, rippling,
Like a kaleidoscope tide,
Down my spine

You are
The Waters of Vitality
That floweth from
The Creeks of Eden,

You have been
Poured upon my palate
From the
Goblet of Redemption
That I may drinketh
Of
Supernal immortality.

When once again we meet,
Perhaps the tears you summoned
From my spirit
By your
Stirring caress
Shall have absolved me
Of the pangs
In loving a man
(And man alone).

Perhaps then,
The sentiments
I pine to profess,
Will resound.

A melody
Sung in legato,
A  mellifluous melisma,
Flawlessly delineated
And
Intonation in deiform
Or perhaps,
Flowering fioritura
Lacing airwaves,
By the Empress Coloratura.

Perhaps then, piety
Betwixt you and I,
Will waft the air
And I might then,
Permit my quaking body
To succumb to
You alone.

Until that morn,
I shall be vigilant,
Counting the Dawns,
Counting the Twilights,
Until
I can gaze
Into your forested eyes
If even for but a moment.

For even but a moment
Spent with you,
Will bleed a nostalgia
Across my mind's sky,
Painting clouds crimson with passion,
And
That I shall revere,
And
That shall last
And last
And,
Last… And
Last.

O, it will last,
To Elysian Infinity.

∞
            I am a vestige,
               But I shall live once more,
                  In the light of memories
                       That blossom, are perennial,
                           And imbibe the dazed glory of the past
                       Until the past is vanquished
                 By a future that is fragrant
             With the mist of romance
          And eclipses the simulacrum,
       A fictitious sun of the infernal masquerade,
    The antithesis of the truest holy,
Then, rapture of life shall mystify no longer,
For the Numen of Truth,
  Shall cleanse creation without a drop of façade,
      His Providence shall emancipate the hollow,
             The Death of Dreams shall writhe
               In everlasting abeyance,
                 Absolving our wayward spirits,
                  The Winds of Change,
                  The Scourge of Pain,
               And
          The Loveless Wraiths
        That haunted our husks
      Shall be transcended for aeons,
  And tribulation made distant, made nebulous
As the Genesis of Time and Space itself
  For we embark on an exodus,
     Beseeching salvation to redeem us
        When the Requiem of Iniquity
           Is triumphed by everlasting cadence.

Be Valiant,
                 Be Sapient,
                             Be Love
                                       And
                                          By this
                                                You shall conquer the world
                                                           ∞

You can see it already: chalks and ochers;
Country crossed with a thousand furrow-lines;
Ground-level rooftops hidden by the shrubbery;
Sporadic haystacks standing on the grass;
Smoky old rooftops tarnishing the landscape;
A river (not Cayster or Ganges, though:
A feeble Norman salt-infested watercourse);
On the right, to the north, bizarre terrain
All angular--you'd think a shovel did it.
So that's the foreground. An old chapel adds
Its antique spire, and gathers alongside it
A few gnarled elms with grumpy silhouettes;
Seemingly tired of all the frisky breezes,
They carp at every gust that stirs them up.
At one side of my house a big wheelbarrow
Is rusting; and before me lies the vast
Horizon, all its notches filled with ocean blue;
***** and hens spread their gildings, and converse
Beneath my window; and the rooftop attics,
Now and then, toss me songs in dialect.
In my lane dwells a patriarchal rope-maker;
The old man makes his wheel run loud, and goes
Retrograde, hemp wreathed tightly round the midriff.
I like these waters where the wild gale scuds;
All day the country tempts me to go strolling;
The little village urchins, book in hand,
Envy me, at the schoolmaster's (my lodging),
As a big schoolboy sneaking a day off.
The air is pure, the sky smiles; there's a constant
Soft noise of children spelling things aloud.
The waters flow; a linnet flies; and I say: "Thank you!
Thank you, Almighty God!"--So, then, I live:
Peacefully, hour by hour, with little fuss, I shed
My days, and think of you, my lady fair!
I hear the children chattering; and I see, at times,
Sailing across the high seas in its pride,
Over the gables of the tranquil village,
Some winged ship which is traveling far away,
Flying across the ocean, hounded by all the winds.
Lately it slept in port beside the quay.
Nothing has kept it from the jealous sea-surge:
No tears of relatives, nor fears of wives,
Nor reefs dimly reflected in the waters,
Nor importunity of sinister birds.

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This poem is self translated version of my Hindi language poem titled "किनारों का निश्छल प्रेम " published in anhadkriti (Dec. 2017) Can be read through the link ==>> https://bit.ly/2Ex69ip

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Only water streams of the river
meets in the Ocean
The banks of the river
never meets with each other
they always stand face to face
but do not come near

If one comes near sometimes
The other moves far and away
To maintain the Distance
It's not so, that they
do not want to meet

But if they will meet  
The river will not stay
That too will become a pond
Its water will also rot
Its continuous flow will stop

To maintain the existence
Of the free flowing river
For welfare of living beings
For quenching their thirst
Its very very important
the banks should never meet

The truth is that they are one
even if they are not able to meet
What is life? Life is love
What is love, it's Sacrifice
Without sacrifice, love is lifeless

The banks have completely understood
the essence and decided their destiny
that they shall never ever meet
For the welfare of the world
Its essential, important and mandatory

Banks are disciplined
By their own self-discipline
If the river also follows discipline
Inspired by the discipline of banks
Its beauty gradually increases
Peoples bow and pray to the river
With great respect and devotion

But whenever water streams of river
Encroaches the boundary of the banks
they are criticized and reprimanded
As it betrays the love
betrays the sacrifice
betrays the benevolence of the banks

by completely forgetting and
tarnishing the efforts of banks
And Take away with them
Hundreds of homes
And finally earn disrespect

Well, the existence of the edges
is also because of the water stream
If the edges meet with each other
They will lose their own identity

So, this subtle concept needs to be
Understood clearly and deeply
'Devotion persists only uptill the
desires remain un-fulfilled'
If one is able to see the God

and gets his desire fulfilled, then
the devotee ceases to be a devotee
his devotion disappears immediately
and he often gets angry with God

So the Banks of river
always pray to god
'Our love should remain forever
But like parallel lines
We should never meet each other

Because of us the river must exist
Water streams must stay forever
And remain as a medium
for communicating our love
towards each other'

Such guileless love of the banks
Where else on earth can be seen?
God also salutes their true love
I wish their love should remain alive


It's not always like -
that the shores never meet
Yes, two banks of same river
Do not meet with each other
But a bank of a river
Sometimes manages to meet
with the bank of another river

Because in such case there is
absolutely no fear of
the water streams getting stagnant
The water stream of two rivers
joins with each other
and is called 'confluence'
Its importance increases
Its respect also increases

If one bank of first river meets
another bank of second river
then the second bank of the first river
never minds at all
and never ever gets sad
Its love remains constant as it was

unconditional and unbiased
Moment moment every moment
Second second every second
Let's bow before such
True and unconditional love
Hundred and Thousand Times

Age nineteen,
Advantages galore,
Am I vain to think my body is beautiful?

I need not worry
For wrinkles and calories
Cannot scar me.

Cut veins and broken hearts
But why?
Even tears hide in their shed.

A fountain of youth bubbles within,
Protected by a unique marble,
Yet treated with utter recklessness.

As bronze may be much beautified
By lying in the dark damp soil,
So men who fade in dust of warfare fade
Fairer, and sorrow blooms their soul.

Like pearls which noble women wear
And, tarnishing, awhile confide
Unto the old salt sea to feed,
Many return more lustrous than they were.

But what of them buried profound,
Buried where we can no more find.
Who ( )
Lie dark for ever under abysmal war?

Carpet of chewing gum
Is stuck on my tongue
&
I am speaking fuzzy.
Oh it's a blur blur blur.... Everywhere...

Carpet of  black hairs
Is blocking my sunlight
&
I am thinking hazy.
Oh it's a blur blur blur.... Everywhere...

Carpet of spectacles
Is choking my vision
&
I am seeing muddy.
Oh it's a blur blur blur.... Everywhere...

Carpet of earrings
Is grabbing all attention
&
I am hearing cloudy.
Oh it's a blur blur blur.... Everywhere...

Carpet of tan
Is tarnishing my reactance
&
I am doing unclear.
Oh it's a blur blur blur.... Everywhere...

Carpet of shoes
Is separating me & Earth
&
I am walking smear.
Oh it's a blur blur blur.... Everywhere...

Or is it
Carpet of negativity on my soul
Is stopping my good heart
&
I am living a blur blur blur......everywhere?

It happened early one morning.
It happened like it always does,
times 3.

Strapped, armed, holding hands
what every loving mother
shouldn't do.

Word of it traveled
like the winter flu,
by noon everybody had heard

of maniacal faithers
who took home her children
lighting up fireworks.

The sun blazed dazedly
evaporating 3 crosses,
not quite melting the ice.

Until it reached my porch step,
it were but distant voices.
now it's here

and real. like it always is of course

but now it's closer than ever
bursting at my door.

Sliced up like a juicy tomato
his screams are muffled by
a screen screening bright information

into the heads of mouths
who offer surreal commentary
disguised as jokes.

We're terrified.
We're hypochondriacs fearing
contamination of a rampant

plague.
A plague we've never seen before.
Our ****** eyes.

So many have already
been ***** by fate.
Faith in fatherly beards

granting wishes to
obedient children
who go tarnishing other fathers' gardens.

What an absurd world
where IS is ice that
cannot melt.

What an absurd world
where children weep
at mothers' debt.

What an absurd world
where faithful supremity
reigns unchecked.

You gave me the child
that seamed my belly
& stitched up my life.

You gave me: one book of love poems,
five years of peace
& two of pain.

You gave me darkness, light, laughter
& the certain knowledge
that we someday die.

You gave me seven years
during which the cells of my body
died & were reborn.

Now we have died
into the limbo of lost loves,
that wreckage of memories
tarnishing with time,
that litany of losses
which grows longer with the years,
as more of our friends
descend underground
& the list of our loved dead
outstrips the list of the living.

Knowing as we do
our certain doom,
knowing as we do
the rarity of the gifts we gave
& received,
can we redeem
our love from the limbo,
dust it off like a fine sea trunk
found in an attic
& now more valuable
for its age & rarity
than a shining new one?

Probably not.
This page is spattered
with tears that streak the words
lose, losses, limbo.

I stand on a ledge in hell
still howling for our love

I
sat and I waited for you
with my skin crawling
many nights I looked into
the mirror
and I didn't recognize her
She was someone new
Someone desperate and broken
into a million pieces
The Culprit Was You
you brought forth misery
wrapped expertly with a
bright red bow
camouflaged and putrid
with your tarnishing love
it was a beautiful trick I must admit
you are quite the magician
you created trust
transformed it to dust
then made it disappear
with the blink of an eye
you forced love to die
with no arrangement of a funeral
I sat and I waited
many nights I contemplated
on ways to make it even
closure is what I needed
but my love for you was too strong
and you made it cry
the mistreatment you delivered
made love die
but my heart still beats
and still I remained
broke, busted, and disgusted
All of my fortitude invested in you
and you imposed it upon me
such potent ammunition in your grasp

you controlled me

to be your slave
while you swam nights in vain
I stayed in and prayed
for direction for protection
I would pray that your heart would fall
into my hands
and God told me to be patient
but
I can't
every moment had to be filled
with you
you are my filling
and I was your crown
pauperized by love's cavity
sleepless nights indulged
by the whispers of my mind
painting sweet stories
covered and blurry
except
my focal point was set on you
my thoughts left me at times
in spite of you

I didn't bother to pursue
how foolish of me
I was stupid
in love with you
meta-morphed to ignorance
in-cognizant of my worth  
I left it at the creek
in my dream
where I sat
in thirst
where I washed my hands
in the glistening water
and laid my worries
in the white snow
but in reality
you know my inner child
only you see my inner core
so tell me how could I
love someone else?
who could ever love me more?
than the man who knows
me.
in
and
out
your the man who accepts me
out
and
in
your the man who adore me
internal
and
skin
consequently
there's no love in me
to love another

again*



                                Copy Right 2014
                                     ©Patty Ann

surrendering to the angel you send in the night
tarnishing night with stars you set, of mementos, gems
sweetened into being by the heat of unknown
fun in the warning
sun in the worsening
need to see the warm winds
in your hair, see it myself
my vigil, diadem is a pen
decrees are on each page
that summer endings and I
lay down to
- it's dreaming
of the soul that holds my soul

Never will he perish
For he'll remain with me
Tarnishing my soul in the wake of his memory
Tangled up in my memories
Constantly blaming me
Incisively

Trenchant is his face within my mind
So hard to disguise or hide my plight
Wishing it was but never will be past-tense
His presence lingers
Pulling at my resistance
So persistent

The knots wrap tightly to my wrist
Bound to the same grounds
The thoughts place this as they manifest
Repetitious history
Evoking inevitability

I wish the tears could cleanse and mend
The taste of blood is too metallic for my pallet
As I descend bitterness fades leaving disgrace
I am not to blame but I bare the shame
However I cant regret knowing his name

Heartless people cannot be reached with words,
Tongue and actions are their sharpest swords.

They belittle and lie on those who love them most,
Starving for attention and themselves they must boast.

All that you do to love and make them happy is in vain,
They only want what they can get and leave you in pain.

Never seeing their own wrong doing they fabricate lies,
Saying things so untrue looking you straight in the eyes.

Watch out unsuspecting one for the lion is on the hunt,
It will not be long until someone else will be out front.

Hold your head up high for the story remains the same,
Only this time it will not be tarnishing your good name.

Warning to you all that have not seen what it can do,
Wild animals feed on prey and don’t care about who.

Lacking emotion will say the things you want to hear,
Getting everything wanted or they kick you to the rear.

Be careful and don’t judge the book by the cover,
It has been altered to appear as a wonderful lover.

Beauty on the outside but Beast to the heartless core,
Beware of both for they are working together to score.

VLK

The Elder Supremes are staggering
Under the Pillar of Superposition—

They who stream emotionless minds, streaming
    Scripture as alcohol to tea-head Kneelers, praying
        The elixir of Olympus isn’t turpentine; tarnishing
            The great, drear light of child-minds like onions in the Sun
Molding through its layers; the taste extinguished—No poetry Survives!
    They who crackle doom over whitened rooms
        Filled with the white coats of Nature’s secret Heroes—
            The best minds, sagging like iced-over limbs—
Made dim by a false Heavenly connection.
    Oh! They deprived the gears of Grandfather Night,
        And deemed Him wicked in his flickering sight.
            They who are Hollow, yet still colossal; these spinning Hellions,
This Machinery of Older Skeletons;
    That steams and heats and comes to life for an innocent
        Bottom, with the name that lies in Sin of Archaic Text,
            Vexed, hexed and expressed in all Prisons and War—
Prisons and War reverberate like bad music in the name of a doG;
    A name the Sun once owned and cast below to a dimmer Star,
        It billowed and screamed:  Keep it in the ******* Church!

Now it comes to Damning the Beast:
“Get thee behind me Savior, for the Microscope is over Prayer.”

While there was the alchemical conclave with Valekiria and the ****** foliage of her in the veins of her beloved, the lightning of the advent of the palfreys was felt. Etréstles, goes out and looks through the strip of the between tent, making sure that Alexander the Great's entourage of Tágmati was there, bringing him his missive, Etréstles warns Mardiath and the others. While the General retreats in awe with his Leonatus falling to the ground depressed from some of the blades, from the riddled herds and the nits of the lycaon in the middle of dismounting. He sneaks up to the marquee where his main commander Vernarth was! He sees him surrounded by inexorable probes ..., pre-existing of such prosapia and losses of the Poimenandros, in all the Shepherds of Men who approached a greater one, when breathing in their exchanges of credibility, and of Vernarthian passion archeology when being introduced by his thoracic pectoralis right, leaving here before his eyes the visible and bloodless of his main artery.

Alexander the Great says: “Khaire, I wish joy to my distinguished Commander Vernarth… !. The General Raises his hands clicking and spreading tiny earrings, to grind them on his face, they were sent by the Falangists, paying homage to him! They were pieces of horse leashes with gold fillets that they ripped from the hooves of cavalry, and from the breastplates of bruised containers. With the tips of their fingers upwards and from his face, they appealed higher to Apollo's presence, and then they bowed to him.

He says: “The last time I saw your individual, we had alternated him to see the enormous bravery of his over-proportioned of him, which our Vernarth imposed in battle. You arranged your army in such a condition so that we would face all its parts forming a large rectangular, at such exterior angles where only your fierceness peeked out, being able to face thrusts derived from anywhere, not being an angle outside the defensive geometry. I saw myriads of Arrows fall on our army, I paid attention to our Lord Vernarth Hetairoi, going with his right Thoracicae Pectoralis lacerated, also semi hanging with his Aspis Koilé. You had your thigh and shoulder blade with impostor arrows that did not detract your spirits to continue ****** trampling of enemy Persian angels, being incapable before you! You mounted Alikantus and with all your momentum in an extreme insane act, you ravaged his insistent enemy ranks. There the omega happened in its exalted moment that I could see over your great courage and bravery, beheading all the Achaemenid troops. Today we have won thanks to your invaluable recklessness. Now I will go after Darío, after his escape in search of new scrolls, which is what the world did behind him, who should never have exposed himself against our alliance with our army and his historicity "

Vernarth replies: "Khaire, Chairetízo ton dioikití mou gia to thánato tou pesménou phantasma, I salute my Commander for the death of the Fallen Ghost." All submerged in the Dorus-Xifos with multiple edges impregnated in the fractions of the kardiá, like a new blood alliance that has to provide us with a new life beyond our deaths. In the hand of the smithy, smith will reside the new land where we have to implement new expeditions. " Brisehal, my Hound of Dash-e-Lut, stifled his ambitions by tarnishing superfluous designs. Now on his broken plain dystrophy, there are signs of panics, which only He instilled on undamaged bodies in the Falangists, they are deponents of our intrepidity, and of the wild rebellion that caused the flight of the Achaemenids. On the glory that did not cease to aspire, I will go in my stir up to meet my paradisiacal ancestors, gratifying the great brotherhood to the kingdom of creation by bustling through the great chimneys of Hestia, and from the universe, departing from its own powers of power, and from the uncontestable love, which makes us coexist with our extremities without anything being clearer than the very trace of their gales, more exceptional than the same that others must reward with adhesion by representing them under all limits that exceed the superior ends. "

From that moment on, everything narrowed into territories of energy, faced with the excesses of events and energetic waste that extended into exquisite archeology of evangelizing events, where its background fluctuations of retro causalities, entered into the observation of the events of energy that was filtered with the elementary particles. They were the crowning of eternal energy that makes the total summary of the elliptical trajectory of the orbit of the electron, as a virtual particle in which they refer to the muon (µ), it will be this massive elementary particle, with spin ½ with negative electric charge, with its mass 207 times greater than that of the electron, with a somewhat longer life than other unstable particles. It is associated with its corresponding antiparticle, the antimuon (µ +), the perfect interaction of the particles and Higgs and Muon, they will marry in the cloud chamber of the Patmos tunnel, becoming active at elevation 197 of the Wonthelimar vertical, at detecting the presence of electromagnetic field that will bend with the early arrival of the fourth Zefian Arrow. Everything was curved as it passed through this field, mediating between the proton and the electron, called the mesotron. Everything evolved with the mass of active light that was teleported by the neutrinos that imploded from Zefian's arrow, a few light-years before reaching contact with the Megaron Áullos Cosmos and the rest of the Katapausis, to allow for the spatiality of the vast numbers of the transversality of the millennial process, and of cosmicity between the elemental and theological physical actors, revealing the blunt veracity of the concatenation of passion archeology, for purposes of the Cosmos Ultramundis valuing the retransformation of consciousness, and shallow souls for a theological quantum becoming.

Farewell, Santiago


The waves chortle in ripples; his boat
corks from side to side, slapping the surface
with a bone-bow and starving fingertips:
both have lost their names.  But he
gurgle-speaks to the gull and whispers
ancient lore along the foam-crackled crest.
He’s hooded and hunched,
an old scalawag that never found home
anywhere that didn’t drift like him.
Sand doesn’t speak his language anymore.

But the interwoven arms of corals
can tell stories by the North Star,
times when he was agile and supple;
knee-deep in seaweed and the salt-burbled edge.
The night he slit his palm with a pocket knife
and offered life bounty to the tides
in brotherhood; one drop in,
many drops out over the years

and frayed nets, unfurled ropes.
The redemption of hope glistened in cobalt scales
and weighed at market like poison vials,
polluted inky clouds tarnishing
every coin—hardly worth the bloodletting.
Not anymore.
Dusk fans out orchid and orange blaze;
he yawns a welcome to the mako at last.

~


How is it I think I find what’s real within your eyes
But from your mouth comes words comprised of endless counted lies
Falling at my feet just like a charm without a chain
Tarnishing the wisdom that shall never be the same
Whisperings of darkness slowly selling off the proof
Scribbles on a sidewalk as a chalk line alters truth
There upon a billboard with its message loud and clear
Written in graffiti is a clue that you are near
Still you fight the reason that our worlds have come to be
Hidden in the sentences your voice it sends to me
Tell me if you kindly will, what I have done to you
That brings about this wrath I feel has jumbled up the view
When all I really needed was directions to your heart
And now I see that hell is at the place you said to start
Once I did believe in every tear drop that you cried
Sitting on the cushion fighting off your fears inside
Now I wonder if your ears can hear this slamming door
Because my ears have heard enough, can’t listen anymore

Long drives, chai and that heavy metal song

Days may have been shorter but those nights always felt long

Wonder why these little things

Pinch every moment I live today

With every breath chasing answers

Every prayer cajoling you to still stay

Every day, since you left, feels unreal,

something I refuse to always believe

It shocks me how my mind sets those dark deals

Contemplating your choice to instantly leave

Nights are sleepless, as days pass by

Yet nothing remains other than the regret of those past lies

My heart sinks recalling every memory we shared

Can't even describe how living this life has never made me this scared.

The world without you was still as normal as before

But in my head, it all felt as if I sank just a tad bit more

As I stepped out of those four walls into reality

I left a piece of my broken self among those closed doors

Voices are silenced and memories have faded like sawdust in the air

You've gone to stars, as my fingers tremble to see you there.

That urge to strongly get out of here

never thought it would make me fear

Every word I said repeats constantly inside

As regret fills me up and my will to live dies

Was sort of pain already never enough

You had to teach me this lesson as you rest in the heavens above

Wish I could show you what it felt like

to feel what you've made me feel in this very time

Tarnishing my ability to internally heal

Feeling like I was worth less than a dime

Crying, sobbing, reminiscing isn't abnormal in these stages

Grief is so wholesome, it fades but never ages

Wounds feel as fresh as new as they hit my heart

Rewind is so addictive, can't begin to restart

Dark nights or sunny days

Stormy sights alongside a summery haze

Nothing matches up to such harsh goodbyes

Except me asking a thousand whys

Eventually, I know we'll all find something new to taste,

a new perspective that'll never go to waste,

yet welcoming this novel self that I become,

closes a portion of me that's so tight and numb

Every morning I ask God a million questions

About what may have possibly gone wrong

Agonising this personal invasion

And feeling as if nowhere is where I truly belong

With no answers but teary eyes,

that forcefully shut through these terrible mental bytes,

of familiarity that sticks to you being around,

my new normal is so unbearably drowned

I've been walking on this

never-ending highway to a living human hell,

With a drop of inevitable trauma and

the feeling of frozen body cells

There's a space that remains empty

That possibly can't be refilled

I hope you forgive me gently

As closure defeats the intuitive guilt

The human body has been known to forget

To restart, refresh, retake and reset

But no film matches to the ****** of this one

You were so much more than what can't now be undone

I'm obviously progressing through the present as it may seem,

but that night, that decision, that action still is as if it were a dream,

when the trauma shall surpass, the memories appear,

never had the thought of losing you this year

You're the memory I'll never forget,

those days we spent can't be over just yet,

truth is you ain't here anymore,

you've left too soon and will be missed to the core

I swear this life isn't worth it
as I lock on to my targets
I shoot robustly
unhumbly tarnishing
all ties and bridges
from scratch
These hands built
They hate work
They rapidly fire
every employer
for every bruise
Inflicted
then it clicked
wanted for innocence
a dream of making a killing
The unheavenly seeks depth
In solitude
bodies flop  
buildings drop
They all fall
before me
one by one
As I reform these fingers
the larger one stands alone
rebirth these hands of glory
for I am a man of stone

it was the frustration.
the frustration caused by
your arbitrary outbursts of anger,
whilst vomiting words of resentment and regret.
words that melted into my veins,
tarnishing my blood
with the ink that fueled my writers hand.

the dependency and obligations that i had to be yours,
and yours only.
the suffocation entrapped me
              (((inside of a cage)))
                       so small.
once i finally remembered,
"i could spread my wings."
i realized your latch couldn't hold me captive.

the salty tears that endlessly
stained my cheeks,
swelled my eyes,
and shortened my breath.
the emotions, the motions,
my body was speaking to me.
i was finally able to listen.

the intensity of emotions
without regard for
                           emotional intelligence.
it never made for a successful relationship,
but it sure as hell made for a good story.

our love ended at the cost of many cons,
but it came with a recipe for beautiful prose.

she was a living kerosene
combustible, volatile,
deadly
and my words were
her fuse

the assault would flare when sunrise meets sunset
and thats when I usually loose track of time
because
clocks freeze
the minute hands
viscously crawling by
as if oiled by the kerosene
they're right when they say time's relative

but i inhale it anyways
all her toxic words
fumes of swears
smogs of taunts
all of which left behind
ugly,
black,
soot
tarnishing my soul

but i smile as the smoke fills my lungs
and gladly let her words burn me
because i know
I wouldn't have it any other
way

I believe some poetry is best unseen, unheard, and unloved.
Not to say it isn't beautiful, but that it is so beautiful it must remain secret
For fear of tarnishing it.

I have so many poems about a girl with brown eyes,
Who told me she did not know how to love anymore.
But after getting in a relationship with a guy just a day after our break-up
Seems to be loving fine.

Perhaps its better I did not share those poems.

I have come to the conclusion that I am just hard to love.
Mostly because I need to write all my feelings,
Turn sadness into metaphor and anger to simile,
Just to be sure these emotions won't tear me apart.

When she told me she didn't know what love meant,
I wrote her a poem about the ways I wanted to get to know her.
She didn't understand it.
That my poetry was my love,
That if she couldn't see that I wouldn't know what love was either.

Its been over a month since she left me for someone with stronger hands,
But I still have managed to reign in my poetry.  
I do not write about the ways I wanted to know her,
Nor do I let mention of her smile slide into my metaphor.

If I do, it is never seen or heard.
I lock it in the remains of this black heart,
Burn it in the flames of my pride.
I will not let heart break run me.
My love is a beautiful secret.
I will not be tarnished by a broken girl who does not know how to love.

His hand seizes no brush,
What he has is dish alone.
There came a deluge –
A surge of days
With lovely clatter of voices.

Eggs tousled,
There’s a perplexed question within.
Amused by her doll,
That little one.

His weeks-old pant
Now rowing incessant,
Famished for something.

A trance of canvasses stretching,
Where there’re outlines
On ocher-soaked linens,
Earth-dug umber, sienna, yolk yellows,
Wet, oily and waiting to bleed
Thick and gummy from the brush.

In his veins,
The scent in ether enthralls him –
He was lightheaded
leaves me lightheaded,
Daubed and anointed
By the deity he has filched from.

Now the baby cries,
Sodden, smells like a milky cotton
Sopping every minute up,
Those implicated hours.

He’ll spill years
As the earth alters his faces.
Greens of summer,
Tarnishing into autumn..
And in winter, the north light;
Grasping firestorm
In the braids of the medium’s hair.

(9/10/13 @xirlleelang)

I'm falling by the wayside
I'm part of the up and coming coalition
Trying to get this contraption up and running
That will do away with paint realities

Chapter 11
Section 8
Stake-less bets and crucial moments
I am the noble savage
I can see the focal point
In my peripheral vision
I see a pesky pescetarian  
Tarnishing reputations
Varnishing them with rumors
Serving them with an appeasing garnish
That's their claim to fame

My left and right brain have their held thoughts
I know there is no "I" in "team", but there is one in "time" and you're wasting mine
I want to take the whistleblower and carry her over the threshold

       -Tommy Johnson

First, ink and tree leaves
      Fresh or processed, it works nonetheless
seek a tranquil abode
      And allow creativity to flow through throbbing veins
lock the doors, close your eyes,
      Trap yourself in your consciousness
no escape for the wicked and divine
      Allow the fear of yourself to boil,
the image of her that burns behind your eyes to scald you,
      And the anticipatory chills to soak your entire body.
let them twirl and collide
      Car collisions, fists against walls
face these lost horrors living in the depths of your mind
      Tickle the subconscious,
drifting enough to dream,
      But awake enough to feel the lightening of this storm.
tease and ****** it until it claws for an escape
      Poke and ****, burn it to squirm
the perfect result will be worth the torture.
      Then, at the peak of destruction
when it’s nearing death and combustion
      Release it onto the whiteness of the page
tarnishing it, impure.

Someone has restricted my wrists
Trapping me with iron chains and roughened ropes
Chafing a sour burn on me when I struggle
Trickling a harsh burn on my membrane
Intensified by the comprehension that I’ll never feel her touch again

Someone has shoved a *** of socks down my throat
Trickling the ever sour bile taste down my esophagus
Tarnishing my tastes permanently with the substance
Choking my breathing tubes with a surfacing lodge of *****
Worsened by the reality that I’ll never taste her lips on mine again

Someone has leaked chloroform inside the room
Smelling its’ vague yet distinctively sweet scent
Expanding in my nostrils the substance is
Rising to suffocate me with its scent
Knowing I’ll die with this scent in my senses instead of her’s

Someone has planted a speaker within these walls
Echoing replays of her voice in my mind
Rerunning the sound of her hysterics
Driving nails into my eardrums
Lodging the knowledge that I’ll never hear her laughter again

Someone has placed
Disorientation in front of me
Swirling confusion and vague pain
Swindling my common sense down to nothing
Masking the sharp feeling that she always gave me

That was the day your face seared onto the inside of my eyelids. That was the day a gentle hunger stroked my belly, and that was the day where we trekked the entire length of Manhattan with Gershwin bubbling from our mouths. And that was the day I discovered the city at night in broad strokes, that was the time where my steps grew a little bit larger, where we painted the soles of our feet and colored the sidewalks our footprints dripped where the colors blend you held my hand and held your breath as you walked against the red light.

That was the summer you began the nonchalance around me and that’s when I knew our friendship was over, sailed on when the vessels in my nose broke and blood started gushing out. I was bending over the sink to catch the droplets in the water fingers poised over the bridge of my nose to stem the flow and when I called out for you, called out your name, you replied with clinical directness completely impassive and proceeded to google how to stop nosebleeds all the while chanting “nose nose nose” in a singsongy breath and that’s when I knew that the ship has sailed onto muddy waters.

Which is the dream and which is reality? For there are some images that are so beautiful I find it hard to believe I was awake and yearning

*That was the day where you reached to fix a leaf on a branch and I caught a pale sliver of flesh, that streak of white stomach, the glance down at me, the blush, the light tarnishing that yellow hair, setting my heart ablaze

Crystalline tears
that never really fall
They hide, shimmering silver, just behind her lids.

He sees his reflection,
multiplied in iridescent triangles
But she denies the sorrow, not quite hidden,  not really gone.

She breathes him in,
denies all fears and tears,
She just keeps whispering fractured reassurances.

When he’s away from her,
he sees the poem she left behind
Now he’s scared, he’s terrfied, he’s afraid for her crumbling mind.

And she lies alone
inside a home that’s much to cold
She wishes for his prescence, just a single glimpse.

He waits for her,
wonders if she’ll ever call,
A black and empty screen haunts his fitful dreams as he dozes off.

She wishes she could call
but unwilling Fates refuse to remove the wall
And she lies alone and tries so hard not to cry

Alone, he sits
with tear-and-blood-stained melodies in his ears
He floats on the rythmns and wonders if she can stay strong.

A flashing blade
keeps invading her mind,
but she shakes it away, screams at it to go away, she can’t give in.

He’s counting down
every single second that remains
Until he can finally hold her again, finally wipe away her tears.

She’s fighting so hard,
using every weapon and shield she can
To stop the demons from tarnishing her heart and soul beyond recognition.

They both lie alone,
they both wonder about the other,
as she hides her tears and he hides his fears.

We are the hopeless
We are the lost
We are the ones who fight the hardest
Then fall and drown in our own blood
We are the ones with hearts made of steel
Icy cold and burning hot,
Either way, you can’t melt the part of us
That is dark

(Dark)
You cannot find us,
Because we are dark
(Dark)
You cannot save us,
Because we are dark
(Darkness is the air we breathe,
Darkess is a smothering sea)
We are all dark hearts,
And we feel nothing but this pain

When we walk, it is with heavy footsteps
When we talk, it is with
Voices barely there
We are the poor souls
Caught in the landslide
And no one can us scream
“Help me!”
And we give up our last breath and fade
Into the dark

(Dark)
You cannot find us,
Because we are dark
(Dark)
You cannot save us,
Because we are dark
(Darkness is the air we breathe,
Darkess is a smothering sea)
We are all dark hearts,
And we feel nothing but this pain

Don’t try to prove to us that there is love
Don’t show us a world that is absent of pain
Don’t try to tell us that we are okay
Don’t you understand,
We can’t take your hand
Because
The darkness is contagious
The darkness is contagious

(Dark)
You cannot find us,
Because we are dark
(Dark)
You cannot save us,
Because we are dark
(Darkness is the air we breathe,
Darkess is a smothering sea)
We are all dark hearts,
And we feel nothing but this pain

We feel nothing but this pain
Weighing us down
Tarnishing our souls
Don’t ever try to tell us that we
Are anything but
Dark.

One mustn't take what is beautiful and pure
And taint it with ugliness profane
From tarnishing its beauty
Can one not refrain?

You would think the eyes would see
The trueness of its state
And not place blemish on it one
And all of its innocence berate

I suppose one must hold in mind
That each one of us is unique
In how we interpret what we find
And how to others it bespeaks