Category: Emotional

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In Life

machinations
of the mind
maligned
by self-imposed design
the designated driver
of a maladaptive
disposition
dislocated sediment
intent on masochistic dreams
essential to the martyrdom
indoctrinated by a matriarch
of drastic sadist aspect
etched upon
wretched projections
usurped by alienation
parchment poisoned
by a plucked pen
paraphrasing false-inflections
pulse diminished
inquisitions
redress of aloof forsaking
rooftops shunned
by dawn’s awaken
caustic disclaim
trained on trauma
interred at the infirm
spun of silk
encased chrysalis
incrementum in reverso
verses of accursed squalor
umbral indigent
in freefall
following in footsteps
fading faster than
the self-effacing
imbrue of inebriation
seesawing with undulation
diametric poles
in flux
de facto devolution
folding inward
on the precipice
event horizon somnolent
a fate inferred
and self-fulfilled
through flustered blurs
of blighted pills
spilling the inner-light
and stirring dust to volant heights
in violent hues of tapered will
through eyes of silent dearth
and death as breath escaping
flights of fury
cilice of a soul
unfurling life
like crimson shed
in water
blissful skies of sought ensconcing
molded by the want of naught
but for the promise
of demise eternal
more than earned
in life

[image credit: Harry Clarke]

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Eve of No Tomorrow

lay your thoughts
upon my pillow

willows whisper
winds serene

tales unfold
composed of kisses

lost in silent reverie

this night beckons
ever urgent

argent skies
immersed in light

as the stars
succumb to ruin

tranquil drops
well in your eyes

[image credit: Kay Nielsen]

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Hapless

i paint these scenes
of wretched failing

deemed “self-sabotage”

subconsciously mincing
the ignorance
of their inception

a wavering vice
of weakness

unwilling
to address the fear

that haunts me
when the moon retreats
to plot my next misstep

tread in torpor
culled of cowardice

and disclaim
framed most vapid

pain
of an affliction

sown
then left
for fools to reap

its tainted toll

so hideous

hidden
as discordance
falls upon them
as they are

the ones
whose only inquiry
is sanctioned
by the sky

those toward whom
my only truth
belies itself

through bridges
burning

hapless
just to turn
and face

what fate
succumbs to acquiescence

burden
of my bastardizing

fraught upon
their sacred ward

i swore
not to avow

this servile sword
wrought
by the eve’s availing

sable-sotted
sentiments

abscond
to the abyss
of midnight

[image credit: Kay Nielsen]

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Stoned Miles

ashes eschewed

usher fall underfoot

 

the remnants

of endless days

 

gray

and despondent

 

shuttered

 

i no longer see

the trees taper

 

impressions

once flourishing

thought, sound, and feeling

 

flashing

in shrill peals

 

a tale stowed surreally

 

stolen

by flickering

madness

eluding

 

strangely retold

in a cold, bleak immersion

 

hours burned frigid

of infernal mind

 

rue forms a sordid soot

of the soul’s toiling

 

inward it folds

fueling lucifer’s fire

 

solitude broods

failures born of inaction

 

on mattresses

barren

 

time-worn

and forgotten

 

mottled

with mildewed crumbs

 

bones for a pillow

 

the contrast stings anguish

 

shone stark

with such loss

 

beyond even nightfall

its poignancy stretches

 

these truths

weep beside me

framed by the faint gloaming

 

the autumn dawn

breaches

 

as ardent

claims feigning

to never have cared

 

but the silence

she already knows

[image credit: H.J. Ford]

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Let Me Tell of No More

hope

like humankind
is truly
the cruelest

if not all too usual

like a challenger deep
i could have easily
inhabited the trenches
of the great mariana

if left to my own devices

in a steady stream
of entropic existence

this, is not to say
that my soul would not
seep through the fissures
absconding to hellfire
in iron-core iconoclasm

my chosen paths
are minded with honors
and badges

it’s the acclimatization
and the stayed deprivation
that stave off the gravest of fates

. . . to be stricken
with the malignancy
of minded emotion
in the spur of the moment

to. . . argh

to, ~ f e e l ~.

for when i do
dimensions cry, uncle

as my watery ways

shear gaping rifts
through the planes of perception

. . .

i dwelled in detachment

living tortuous death

every breath a burden anew

but at least i knew~

now, time has wrought trickery
upon my soul’s dispossession

and the distance which spans
amid consequent disparity

has displaced my consciousness
landing a final blow
upon all i have known

rent by the unspent
tempestuous
turbulent
fervid
and festering
the influx of blustering
bombast so drastically
thrashing my breast

an impetuous
press against her lips
precious

all the years of my life
have always belonged
to her

this, i know
will inhabit my bed of dirt
when i greet the insect hordes

but more than just this
it was the mistle-streaked
visage since sallow and sullen

the culminating of hearts
acquiescing

a lifetime flashed before me
in that briefest of respite

much like a comet streaks
through a burst sky

only now

had its tail ensnared
the pulsating mass
fresh from my chest

and thus it was shot to the sun
in an instant

and such elucidation
diffused forces known

as gravity left me
to fall back to earth

nothing
can tell
of the ghastly descent
whence i combusted
to dust
from the old familiar sphere
of atmos and mir

thunderous crashing
i plunged into depths
the source of eternity’s tears
ever felled

in an instant
they passed through me
like ghost particles
colliding

i can no longer abide
let me now stay my tongue

take my leave
for this grievance
shall venture no more

boring all
like the sting
has bored holes
where my eyes once beheld–

let me tell
of no more

[image credit: Tess of the Storm Country (1922) featuring Mary Pickford]

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Wanton Predilection

men dare never fathom
of the consequences wrought
in the wake of their ego’s reckless abandon

perhaps it is they know
if such truth were ever sought
they might not feel free to spread their seed at random

for theirs is such a burden
placed upon all womankind
as its sole regard is one based on passing whims

where women take the time
to consider each perspective
a man relates all things back to himself

every woman suffers
at the hand of man’s neglect
though the issues omnipresence e’er obscures

and here we are complacent
thinking this to be the norm
that no credence e’er is paid to our adjures

a man’s flagrant hypocrisy
so garish does it blare
to the point that we no longer recognize it

as women are subjected
to the scrutiny and ire
and are thus condemned to sentences of silence

with all that has been done
every man should build a shrine
at which every night he should beg for forgiveness

but sadly, people scoff
thinking this a vulgar thought
and it seems our species somehow lost its conscience

if man could look beyond
the defenses he has built
in the name of guarding insecurity

to address the endless wrath
he has lain upon his path
and accept his own responsibility

then we might stand a chance
in a world so full of doubt
on this precipice of humankind’s extinction

but all that i have seen
the male ego is as such
’tis beholden to its wanton predilection

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Trust

i have spun this web
with words unsaid
upon a bed of sorrow

love ne’er ebbs
though in her stead
i dread to face
the wakeless morrow

broken vows of death’s departing
spoken with a silver tongue

cloaked in shards
from shattered hearts
enshrouded by the blackened sun

seconds fall at fevered pace
as life does from this land of lust

where all intentions turn to waste
and hurt is what we earn for trusting

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Not Even Death

and here we are
yet living
on this eve of lost idyll

i am no more able
to feel your touch
than sorrowed skies retreat

the passing hours
grow ever darker
my lair has turned to dust
unsettled

roaming on this plane
alone
in search of any senseless reason

the more i look
the more i find
my mind is but a distant ruin

littered with the consequence
of time’s relentless ire

as truths unravel
by its hands
extending far beyond
the grave

where now
not even death
can stand to save us

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Stoic Submission

even now
when thoughts of her
affronting love’s convention
have shuffled off
the consequence
befalling our mistake

do trails tell truth
of hours attending
context tread anew

disavowing fated remnants
lingering devoid of interest
bleeding web of understanding
weeping reaped
sown of her seed

in retroactive disillusion
memories become unraveled
like the sutures
faintly tethering us
at the tearless seam

so it seems
as days unfolding
shattered moulds
tinged with decay
hinging on pending perspectives
shifting lights shine
fears display

in the barren sands of ruin
truant cheeks
turned weak of will
baring thoughts i pray not bear

surrendered to stoic submission

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The Sleepless Hour

drowning
in the darkness

silence
rests upon her lips

i long
to lift my leaden head

paralyzed
by thoughts of living

seconds drifting
in and out
from borrowed backgrounds

sitting in the circle
of regret
and rotting earth

thoughts of her
tormenting
pages shorn
to show an ending
spurned

still
her laughter echoes
through the frigid nights
of empty air

poisoned
by the voiceless peril
slithering through
meadows maddened

striking with a force
unfounded
never was her kiss
denied

but shallow whispers
lay awake
to court the
shadow’s song of ruin

through the forest
whence we stumbled forth
to greet the sleepless hour

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