a sharp memory turns out to be a lonely place

as the age burdens further

puts on airs of elegance but deep down

we know it is fake

those that died young burnt brighter

their ashes scatter to the wind and travel farther I swear

felt like forever was imprisioned in her lips

sweet like honey, red like the blood we crave

now that we wised up to the wait

in queue, fancy ourselves civilized but the truth is burning

in the tip of our tongue, in the particles we gave out unwillingly

now our tongue echoes, our bodies ache, feble spirits and mellower moods

a cripple society I personally condeeem to hell

look away, do not match eye contact and do hold your breath 'till you turn blue

bide us all farewell, the hallow pale conversions of our fucking ideal selves

it is not the loss we pretend to abdicate but the fact we came close

we tasted triumph and then, only then, we caved in. 

 

The day of the Dead

a mercy we envoke

a dance we never show

turning cogs we left out in the pouring rain to rust

on the intended purpose to conceal the fact the candle was melting at both ends

'till the fuel dries out and the oxygen is simply not enough to keep us in line.

 

a treasure sank a ship

mid course the crew swam

in the sharp dark-ice abyss

re-entry the circle of life

forcefully;

praying would not have changed a thing after all.

an open door casts a terrible visage

effort that came to conceal the unseen

a necessity that buys time and asks curiosity

for a brief reminder the boggyman is most certain

not.in.the.closet

under.your.bed

holding your heartbeat honest and accounted for

matching your breath.

The next December could be the last.

my spirit is forfeit, kept inbetween

a letter never sent, a reply lost to choice

an empty promise that eats away at the calender

round this fallen time of season where decay is glorious

and chestnuts burn ever lively in sole company of leaves we used to enjoy

branches, ramifications that died otherwise engaged in the cycle

for we cannot know, we do not see and it is eating me alive.

the bonfire alleviates the differences

like wax, skin loses grip and surrenders

wanted to satisfy both sides and equalize the table

spare some change gatekeeper, pearly jaded wings being

You of form, format and formulation

grant me a boon of wisdom so my realization can't take away

whatever justify my suffering

retrack my steps, put away bait and trap alike

regain the time wasted tempting fate 

for I have neglected to learn the lessons

so I wish to say

I hope there is still take to make it right with you.

_________________________________________________________________

there is a monster under my bed

I hear its crawls and I sense the lurk

the nail upon the wooden floor akin to a coffin

being scratched at, grappled with intent and desperation

rolling on the secrets I hid, festering in the horrors in pleasure

the stench intoxicating and revolting, pushing upwards on the ends of the end

calculating how can the topless Decembers without snow added up to be so naked

a multitude of echoes mingle like discarded armor clashing with solid ground

ever aproaching and bound to be savoury and bittersweet underneath

maybe that is for the better

the cold permeates my exposed skin

makes me remember clearly as it was designed

no softer blow as the days are cut short

a pause for the love both exchanged and cut short.

-

I once wanted to be a soldier

pay my duties

play a part

be a cog without vice

take upon arms and stand so very still

silent to the world

for there was little need to show

weakness for it was carved out

rebelness for it was stamped out

confusion for the captain goes down with the ship

all passangers are alike in this violent hill

faceless and mute we interlock arms for we bear no longer passion to the clauses,

rules and dissections may follow to better allocate joint from bone

or was it to separate and disfigurate? no...wait...

some things are probably best left well alone

unkept and ignored

 

"The worst thing about listening to old songs is that they make you remember those times when life was easy..."

my MP3 player is old and stuck on shuffle repeat,

supports me with the same old playlist when I am scared

please, come back and haunt me

I need that same old bedtime song to sleep.

I accidently peeked up

upwards, upstairs as I stretched my neck

a risk I was bound to take once I let go

of the knot rolling my tongue

felt quite like something

an experience I quite have had enough

for both trys, for surely I had to blink once

as silence quivers, wanting

one more time, the last and first time

we came apart, none to blame

friends dissipate, counted days, nothing left to say

it chilled my veins to realize my music taste, hobbies, the chain of event unfolded

do not quite match the aroma now new, now disgusting my very core

shaken, one again, we are once again counting days

no one left to ask, none to lie to or for.

a friend once drew a portrait quite alike his vision of my facade

a pretend pretending to actualize what's real, again.

in the end, all the plans for the pleasure of acting with a certain disregard

for dear life, ta-taka-take-takeitallfuckingfuck;

once I took a vow of silence

a week better spent quietly plotting what came next

do not quite recall what words came first, I must have written it somewhere

wanted to be sure it came out right

What is granted can be taken therefore I abdicated.

woodpecker woodpecker drilling at my door

what bringings can you pursue on the arms of Autuum 

what other tones of questionable timing can you suggest

the reading bores me and the words melt down the page

the rage will not subsise, my breathing stalling

the heat, the wave, the stationary consultation

to concede leap, defear or otherwise social etiquette

watch carefully for I might believe it myself.

firestarting a catastrophe we can barely recognize

no longer a parasite, the caged animal has had enough,

I can no longer bow to the sun and breath the concrete lining ofuscates

the splendor I claim for my own, thumpling the tower (used cards, burn the deck)

I always suspected my words could not change anything

To this day, livid, paranoid, absurdiny afraid to notice things have remained the same

my presence is eateble, digestable and overall not nutricious to the system

feel the pulse, take notice and remember well, did we ask for this?

my word is good

my promise holds steel truth

the shine translucent, toes quiver

eyes vibrate, a ride that we took for granted

once before, why not yet again?

may this claim dispel bad weather all the same

it is during sleep the thorn crown is laid to rest

in repose the chambers of thought lose face

and embrace the gratification we lived another day

the feeling of loneliness and fear is put to the sword

and we see dark, we merge, we fly ever and forever.

the angels present the vile stench of morarity

hold a second fella may I study this contract page ca-re-ful-ly

whilst that go take a hike, respectfully, before we have a scene

got a chip in my shoulder and the rat won't stop nagging at it

_____________________________________________________________

today we play! (the getaway alarm shattered)

we set loose the boundaries of society

moods shall swing, relationships lost and reforged

from stranger to brother we sank anew

amidst peers and friends for those that join

can't resist the earned title

enthusiasm, let's have some fun

curiosity or chance opportunistic coincidence eh

all bound to change as blood and energy levels pump

 __________________________________________________

the future is so. damm. noisy! blinding neon lights

those that do not blink. Imagine, has techonology zeroed out effort

the absolute nerve, and worse still, you can feel it at the pulse.

A belt of spacebars crowd the sky in patterns, accident free since 2200.

Odds are, next year, in 2201, we will still be dulled by outstanding A.I impulses

stunt perhaps by the lack of working lunges. or was it lungues and we discarded legs and exercise?

anyway, I miss colour really. I dreamt of nature and wildlife sporting along

the concrete jungle, the cities have it worse

the landscape multiple and unrepenting

vampires afraid of natural daylight, we better keep it dark

prolific and of a certain adquired taste, vultures exchanged for insomniacs

 the eye and lense fuse

a silver so unnatural it is theorized it does not exist. Levitated by the power of believing,

a marvel of

weird

F

our

________________________________________________________________________

Help was not coming

on the note of caution, it arrived late

the aroma of feeling out of discontent

they know something we will never know

a blossom of sorts, rubberband and swolen pride aside

yearly check-up, fair dues, yes doctor, no doctor, never doc

straigten back, held core, why not dream of something beatiful?

sapped of strength, defient to the lack of sight

shove over, I will dare die another day

leap and bounds, intact dental record mind you, sharp edges divulge conseguences

out of breath, contained in a song, always a song that promises empty truths so malleable

like the friendships that were meant to be started over never achieving true closure. 

you would do better not taking a peek after all

grey walls bled white by murky tempers and hasty hands

devour the crime, damage done the hard way

someone call this man, it has been a minute

bring a camera along, save the date, watch this space. 

__________________________________________________________________________

I turned my phone off and hooked a book from the shelf

one I face every year 'round this certain calendar stage

we come and go in waves in a lull state of wallowing and fever

not quite satisfied we meditate, mediating the burdens we destroy within

to pour out akin to a ritual tribute, mourn and bruises aside

we get talking in an empty room until we beg, we have had enough.

speculation thrives in a festering wound conceived at the womb

trial by desire we couldn't hide the scandal of what's wrong

a miracle the overgrown forest did not split concrete from skull

putting right fright to the cynicals, the absolute spectacle.

this is not a metaphor, we are miserable and have had quite frankly enough.

push and left to hang, the dirt carries a weight overbearing and it stinks of discontent

presently the bodies lay cold, too far gone and we cannot afford the proper burial

blissful prayers must suffice.

trade the soul for a chunk of bread and change

a penny we exchanged for the thought of hope

__________________________________________________________________________

I remember a time when my mom sang me to sleep

every single night she would dance with the stars

invoke heroes and princeses, legends and tales as tall

as the word could travel and her song rang true

her word was good.

time was cut short

memories decayed, 

faces now blurry

the laws dictate I forget the colour of her eyes

just as much as the earth shall take mine

tempers under control

promises on hold we are told we may let them go

for my anchor is my mantra, my temple, my sole existance in quake

my word is good.

_________________________________________________________________

saw a rat mouse about, spin around and dash into a bush

as rain splinked me into reality

pulling me out of a dream within a scene

I carry within me, taunting me to step inside

a warmer place where we dance atop tables

and the only bad thing how sleep separates us

interwined funeral with a homecoming celebration.