What am I doing,Dragging out word after word,In the light of day.My poor, hollow-eyed children:These damnable posts.I lie back, refresh the page...I'm so full of shit.
Tag: Prose-Poetry
Let Lie Less
I've been sleeping more lately,Troubled by ephemeral dreams,That (clichéd though this may be)Feel more real than reality seems.While good for inspiration,I'm concerned nonetheless,For in my waking starvation,I'm becoming less and less. Better, I suppose,To dream and chase phantom love,Than let my soul die.
To Dream Too Deep
When she did not wake, she burrowed Deeper,Into the corpse-skin of the world,Where she stole the magic from forgotten gods,Ate their powers and awful disparity,Until she vomited her mortality,In the form of wriggling worms,Many-legged and blindingly yellow,(Though when crushed underheel,They leave beautifully red stains). Because she could no longer walk,Having sprouted too many eyes,She dragged … Continue reading To Dream Too Deep
Dreams of Dead Machines
Milk-rust and rose petals, Flowing in churning streams, Through ancient forest clearing, Weaving infinite songs, Whisper sensual calm, For a broken War Machine, Which can no longer recall(lost so in cartesian spirals), until sleep once again gleams, Like a dagger of diamond dreams, sheathed in soft, sapphire silk.
Yin
I am thankful,For my simple mediocrity,And a contentedness for simplicity,Rather than desperationFor a stranger's adoration,And purpose in a meaningless world.
Fever Dreams #2
Fuchsia dreams of white-light rooms,Repeating rhythms in coral suspension,Cold nights framed in crystal borders,Nightly bodies burst in ruby drops,While princesses dance with shotguns,Staccato steps and smoky smiles,Screaming lurid secrets,Spilling from dreamer's lips,At the moment we awake. Over and over again I'll die,Until one day things could beDifferent.
Text Chains
Phones are heavy,With empty names,Endless text chains,Binding me to this moment - Etched in stone -Frozen in time -Burned into my soul - So that pitiful message,From ten years ago,Lies in youthful hope, unread.
Uncertain Days
A certain song,On a certain day,Is enough to destroy me,So utterly,That I wish there was a way to PAUSE Life For a while, Enough, at least,So I can see the road forward,Through this relentless rain.
Once Borrowed
You have been ruined,Uncaring hands sullied you,Left you torn and limp,So I'll finish the damned job,With a careful blade,Tearing through broken armor,So, Neglected Soul,I can build you up stronger,And you can be loved again.
Legacies
Her pale hand is small,grasping at the standard of our fathers,tattered rags of vainglorious violence,milky sheets hide crimson courses,slender muscles locked in battle withdeath.