I saw in her eyes the sallowness of festered love.
My drum had beaten to the resonance of celebration,
Of the deeds of love evaluation.
Her art bemuses me, especially when spoken and
Sketched to the rhythms of assayed hollowness –
Mottled balances echo silently on withered spots,
And the words she cherishes lie way below frontiers of enchantment.
How short my éclat reigned!
And my blood congealed!
Do I lay prostrate to hypoxia?
......
Snooze of peace reigned on a collage
of sacred impulse for serenity of shelter —
bower-girthed and soul-inundated —
but along the line, a stampede, peccant
and harlotic,
framed the sun.
True love never dies
Loyal souls never change
Don’t distort the beauty of fairy tales
Don’t blame it on life
Don’t blame it on you
Don’t fake your heart
‘Cause I won't do
Thought you were my angel
So I gave you my wings
Now you're ready to fly?
......
Between your pain and my ability to ease it, lies a thousand broken promises waiting for Bob the builder, can he fix this?
You pull your hair often, sometimes I can't tell if you're frustrated or just in pain. You've had needles treat you like a best friend and sometimes a one night stand, it's supposed to hurt less but instead the drugs no longer work, you cry the same each time the doctor says turn, I guess practice makes prefect wasn't made only to get into your pants. Princess, you don't wear your crown no more, apparently it glitters and your soul's so tired, we could mistake it for anything but gold. You proudly took it off, now you walk with your head tilted as though to assure you that there's no glow, but sometimes you walk past a mirror and swear you see a halo. You trip a lot, sometimes on little stones but mostly on empty promises, when the air is thick with enough lies, you start to breathe, I think you feed off of negative energies, or maybe they are positive to your inner enemies. You've had about two decent conversations, one about how you cried last night, the other about how those tears never came out, you're lost in blue forests and green skies, waiting for thunderstorms that come in rays of sunlight. I think I've said enough, that's what I say when you ask me for advice because by then I realise that you'd be running back to square one. Between your pain and my ability to ease it lies a million untold stories that keep us broken, I'm waiting on our heart to open, maybe the wound can be healed once they realise it's open.
I remember waking up in a panic yesterday because for some reason the nightmare seemed like a nightmare for the first time in a long while. I cannot remember the last time my nightmares became nightmares, for the first time in a long time I saw you in them, I don't know if it was your presence or was it the million broken promises I've made to you that have come home to roost, either way I don't like it. I saw you standing there and our old friend procrastination sold me the idea that you'll be there even after my many obligations. Soon as I bought that idea I had to watch you walk away. It seemed as if I had given up on you without actually letting go because part of me hoped that I'd see you smile again. Probably the craziest thing I saw in this nightmare was the blue forests and green skies that you once talked about, I was amazed at the beauty you failed to relay to me. I remember taking a deep breath in the dream and it felt more like home as negativity was airborne and her particles were like little knives that ripped through nasal passages like the kids in their GTI's tear through the highway. As I was dealing with these little knives that gave me unmeasured pleasure, depression came around to collect her taxes, she left a message for you for when and if you come back. I realised that your pain could never be alleviated regardless of my ability to, and for some weird reason I'm happy with that.
A faint smell of urine
embroidering that bouquet of mold the big cushions
give off days the fog won't lift,
and a shelf of bone
growing out over the eyelids like evening's shadow
across a field of corn—
The whole parade
leaking out from your shoulders, bequeathing
......
Snooze of peace reigned on a collage
of sacred impulse for serenity of shelter —
bower-girthed and soul-inundated —
but along the line, a stampede, peccant
and harlotic,
framed the sun.
It happened again.
I was doing so good
About avoiding it too.
I thought I had removed
All the people who
Would do it to me.
I didn’t.
I never will.
......
I saw in her eyes the sallowness of festered love.
My drum had beaten to the resonance of celebration,
Of the deeds of love evaluation.
Her art bemuses me, especially when spoken and
Sketched to the rhythms of assayed hollowness –
Mottled balances echo silently on withered spots,
And the words she cherishes lie way below frontiers of enchantment.
How short my éclat reigned!
And my blood congealed!
Do I lay prostrate to hypoxia?
......
Seeking Positive Change
What has Ireland goverment done to us?!
Killed our nations soul
Ripping us off of every cent
Don't have a mattress to lie on
Sleep on a couch, my makeshift bed, my home
I light a fire at night to keep me warm and bright
......
Drop
You wanted to reach the star halos.
With the strength of Hercules,
By the beauty of Apollo.
By the meanness of Brutus,
And where did you get to?
To the anguish of Diogenes, to the disappointment of Odysseus.
You forgot to take off the black sail.
Jupiter's Ira followed you.
......