Category: Emotional

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Phantom Filament

i swallow pills
to feel like i exist
to stay my wrists
from bleeding out
and the nightshade
from my mouth
keep the hammer
from the primer
and the blade
untouched by blood
to prevent another haunting
at a wayward viaduct
so the reservoir stays pure
and the oven safe for food
let the rope tend to its duty
and the fires burn of wood
plastic bags were meant for sundries
and policemen to protect
heroin is too depressing
living death begets respect
it’s an irony most shameful
that to suffer is to earn
amid consequence most baleful
while the tastemaker’s face turns
as we follow in the footsteps
of a lifelong detriment
chanting “this is as good as it gets”
in a phantom filament

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On a Saturday Morning

wake up
just to not
give a fuck

torn
from the only place
where i have
any worth

cursed to face
isolation
without hope
for solution

in this
hypnic delusion
of my cryptic submission

cigarette-lipped confusion
fuck
it’s hard
just to type shit

this
as good
as my life gets

i can’t quit
and yet, i did

with this pill
that i swallow

maybe death
will soon follow

on a saturday morning
and she’s not in my arms

there’s a draft
slowly drifting

into yesterday’s clothes
on an old
beat-up mattress

that some rat
made its home

i had bought
a humane trap

but i can’t bear
to tear him

from his only known dwelling
because i know the feeling

in the attic of heartache
it’s a static illusion

i can’t take
much more of this

not without
her love’s solace

on a saturday
so low

with my rodent companion
i refuse to abandon

unlike her
with her hand
down the pants
of a strange man

i guess we are all victims
of a silent affliction
where we scream
but no sound comes
only numbness
of conscience

bleeding truth
in her absence
in the attic of loss
left
on a saturday
mourning

with this rat
my only friend

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Token of Her Heart’s Reflection

it’s hot outside
my heart is broken

yesterday
the news struck ground
after weeks
bound by tempest waters
ravaging resolve

her restraint
was faint at best
upon a whim’s behest
it crumbled

knowing well
the consequence
were she to sip
the spirits of chance

known to fail
my intuition
when it passed
i turned away

it was this moment
that would tear
our bond asunder

all the fire
that burned within me
now subdued
to hurt transmuted

as the bead of sweat
gathers to fall
in the periphery

from the black rimmed glasses
perched upon my face askew

also, does a tear lamenting
sent from realms
of shuttered pain

sweltering
as sorrow rings the sting
within this vacant stare

trained upon that shattered moment
shone to show her disregard

that she would allow
for all this

broken boundaries
words misspoken

token of her heart’s reflection

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Fractured Hearts

fragile hearts
composed of fractured shards
of selenite
soon fall
from the silence
strewn long
throughout the night

some will dissipate
upon the kiss
of eclipsed atmosphere

while others infiltrate
the earth’s defenses
waiting to be found

is this power
within my pen
enough to stay
disappointment?

can these sunken eyes
sustain the curtain’s calling
dirt and all?

through these weary eyes
of stinging
i fail
to see the answer

no longer does water well
in the aqueduct
of quiescence

and gone
is any semblance
of the joy
that once we knew

having joined
the desperate masses
as envoys of muted morass

precious hours spent
relentlessly toiling
for elusive spoils

spanning the breadth
of a breathlessness
unbridled

’til our heads withered
wayward
down the trail
of idle absurdity

as frail
as the feathered waif
unhidden
on a leaf-barren poplar

sonically assailed
by a hail-tinged doppler shriek
with a tail that spanned the ages

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The Aster’s Disk

how do you trust
emphatic assertations
claiming of a love so vital
so unknown
safe and new
all is spoken
as though feelings
never had been felt before
for a moment
nearly falling
to the call
of evermore
pre-assembled sentiments
relentlessly unleashed
lose the power
that was never there
a flower now bereft
of petals
left to tend
the aster’s disk

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NES kid

in my pixellated form
i would save the world
from boredom

swarming hordes
on stormy seas
as captive of
a dream alluded

thoughts of torment
sought reprieve
in redoubt granted
by its heeding

a young mind’s wrest
in secret worlds
of vested heart
and truth obscured

the only thing
that i could hold
amid darkness
beyond control

how many like me
found escape
in plastic boxes
muted gray

to stay the wrath of
conscious realms
a fated passage
most profound

the untold burden
of their “concern”
cast the mould
struck bridges burning

grim projections
glowing screens
protection
from the wounds unseen

a NES kid
who had fought his wars
through cartridges
on broken floors

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Within Your Arms

you justify
the sentence
in this prison
of the flesh

by the merit
of an offhand touch

leaving me
in study
at the basin
of the desert sun

tending
to each bead
of salted dew

just the slightest hint
of your florid rendezvous

more than piques
a passion
poised to sate
the quenchless gods

when the skies
have shuffled off
the blaring beams
of inquest

urgency finds me
at your behest

at last
within your presence
every sense caressed
by vibrant coils

all divergent seas
now coalesce
upon your breast

as we soar
through stolen
secrets
from these realms
of the Akashic

trails of our assimilation
scintillate our wake

all the stars
bespeckling
the stretching blackness

bear no sweeter fruit
than a single second
spent within your arms

precious
as the poignancy
of truth’s
most perfect pattern

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O Songbird

o songbird
of restive mind
thy repertoire vast

as the moonlit masquerade
cast upon the empty bed
of night

piercing requiem
tunneling through
the void
of vanquished mirth

the shrill
of sordid regrets
and disquiets
arisen
from the garden
of agateophobia

like a raving mockingbird
ravaged by truth

feathers hewn
with latent farewell
faintly clinging
to a page
from the past

sing to me
all i have lost

let each note
ring out
as once it
ran me through

before
the great fault
slid the sea
‘neath the desert

and prosody
felled
by god’s languorous sigh

where senses
once flourished
with the triumph
of Typhon

pray let thy song
lay this hardship
to rest

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Relevant Rant

will we ever see beyond the trees
into the forest of illusions
set before us by ourselves
or are we simply at a loss
to bear this burden?

certainly, such implication
complicates the inferences
alluding to this state of indignation
which perpetuates the presence
of my acute consternation

do the constellations hold the key
unlocking unknown doors
to worlds beyond the chaos of existence?

is this counsel, self-contained
a crux which cancels itself out
a crutch our conscience uses
to ensconce us?

every question seems to touch
the realm of truth secluded
which eludes even those perspicacious
erring on most prudent

dedicated students of the mind
have yet to find an explanation
which defines our cosmic purpose

exponentially, our ponderance compounds
without exception
thereby instilling an exigence
unduly excess

we have set the boundaries
far beyond our wildest expectations
to the point of courting disappointment

with our inclination to usurp
our self-appointed power surreptitiously
supposing precedents unseen
which seem to propagate our dreams
so many silently believe

bereaving us of freedoms
rife with possibility
which would inspire community
instead of spurning hope for peace

sapience and salience
presumed part of our “sentience”
are scarcely exercised
or altogether compromised
despite the catastrophic impact
of our calculated actions
we continue on this fervid course
of forced dissociation

refusing to disseminate
the knowledge which facilitates
a self-sufficiency
that would, in turn, sustain society
without burning the bridges
to the people in positions
of imposed disparity based on factors
beyond their person

the irony is so profane
exceeding that which is insane
in fact, it’s that which only fools
would dare to claim not criminal

the truth of this reality
that humankind just cannot see
is every human stands to gain
when selfish hands release the reins
that led us all into substain

instead, with what we’ve stood to learn
so easily could we discern
that only through consideration
of each other, and each station
intrinsic within our being
can we truly attain freedom

kindness is not just a word
nor is it a notion absurd

it IS what all of us deserve

without it
there is only hurt

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What She Said

I wrote this song for someone very close to me when their mother passed at a young age from a terminal condition. I’m not very adept at engineering sound so you’ll have to excuse the crude quality of the recording.

https://soundcloud.com/polar_division/polar-division-what-she-said

“train ticket to another world
but she don’t know where to go
the truth was something
that we did not know
oh tell me now

standing in the field one day
thoughts rolled through my head
and i remember something that she said

she told me that life’s a lie
she showed me the reason why
she showed me the other side of life

and as i heard what she said
as her words filled my head
i began to see where they led
but instead…

i remember looking back
on the things we used to do
back then when i was a kid
and she was still one too

she used to always say to me
that one day she would rise
never once stood back
to even try to realize

as i think and look back now
you know it makes me wonder how
she’d always stand outside in the rain

then i knew exactly why
said she’d never leave my side
then late one night she died
and i cried”

*EDIT – Bonus Angry Samoan’s cover

https://soundcloud.com/polar_division/polar-division-lost-highway-angry-samoans-cover

“no no no, i need a place to stay
no no no, i need another day

my soul is lost, it’s lost its way
it’s been living in this lost
this lost highway

the night gets darker now
i’m cold and all alone
i took a turn in this life somehow
i’ll never find my way back home

i don’t know
i can’t tell you, girl
what i’ve seen there

the demon spawn with bulging eyes
the devil living in disguise
he’s in this world, he’s here today
he’s been living in this lost
this lost highway”

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