GodSpeed!Sidelines have sprung up on us
The hounds of dusk bellow out bizarre tunes
Words of the world are mere words for fiction
Epitaphs are but songs of the children
Cruel androgynous mono chromatic time surges on
Rungs of escape have withered
Effigies of apathy burn and colors the realms with shades of incandescence
Moment of rebirth awaits
Silver is black is gold is love
You mutinous ways of creation have much hope
To be deterred now is a weight not necessary
To drop anchors is to slowly drown
The world urges to see your metamorphosis
Ones who share your love wish for your return
Bring back home your new found self
Or build an empire with your unflawed hands and eternal contemplation
PermanenceThe ship stands alone at sea
Gently swaying in the autumn breeze
The winds are howling screaming stories from the past
Catatonic structures crumble by the shadows of the mast.
For today does not last in the wake of tomorrow but today lives on like the water.
Ever so Serene
Ever so Beautiful.
Broken SonnetEchoes of morning glory linger under the petrol rainbows
Crimson skies cascaded by her long black hair
The decadence swallowed by her jasmine tinted body
The emancipation in her voice
All immorality effaced at the moment of embrace
The texture of love is the skin on her stomach
Her kaleidoscopic eyes projecting slides of utopia
A kiss that makes him feel beyond himself.
To render himself wise he has to grow out of his own skin
Create his own world beyond the carbon rain
Etch his own destination
Find the truth and wisdom in love
Build a ship and set sail...
The OrificeLost in the proses of the questions the world poses
In the dusk of autumn percipitation
And the unbound relentless frost that forms inside.
Wish to vanquish and make tranquil the greylands
and the high roads
Both in the way of crossing over to the other side.
To believe there is more to the world than fascist order
and join the pacifist side.
Walls of the labyrinth are painted with mud, honey and technicolour dreams
And on the walls there is an Orifice to fill them with stories
Stories we live through, enjoy and endure.
We are intertwined.
We are a Story.
Life is just a rideThe eerie night has crept in through the back door. Morning was spent in pursuit of happiness, in wanting to acquire lust for life. These lonely streets leave me in oscillating polarity. No pain no joy no love no hate. The calm outside is only to pose as an opposite to the sweet cacophony inside. The journey to the edge will make us realize that the edge exists till the extent of our discovery. Life is just a ride.
DreamscapesThe outline is halfway done. I want to paint my dreams with stronger strokes, with brighter colors. The outcome should not be a result of preconceived notions. It should be a symbol of my presence but should also reflect on my ambiguity. Every layer should scream of my contemplation, my journey. Now that I think about it I realize that it doesn't need an outline. It doesn't need definition. It should be painted on my shell once I come out of it.
chronic respiratory distress syndromepsssst, go listen: https://mockinroojay.bandcamp.com/track/chronic-respiratory-distress-syndrome
if you could spare a look that doesn’t drop
my surfactant by the halves, please do. the truth
is this; your favourite song is Virtual Insanity
and my favourite is watching you tap a quadrant
on the steering wheel when you drive
on the afternoon-warmed pavement.
the truth is that you sleep till the pit in your stomach
dissolves, that you draw diagrams for my morning
mechanics and arrow out results like, “hey, beautiful,”
with dust still rimming your tearing eyes,
just so I don’t fall off every tight-rope
dawn welcomes me with;
you throw your head back so your spine is erect.
your dialect rolls r’s in envious ways and I want to be
your tongue most days, to rim your cheeks inside
and out gathering your taste like settling dust
in dark rooms with beams of light.
the truth is that I could be wrapped in all of time
and space, the matrix that stretches across
women measure time by the tilt of a boy's shoulderWomen measure time by the tilt of a boy's shoulders:
Slanted back, muscles taut under freckled skin
Are the lingering summer days
Hot sand between toes, sunlight in his eyes
Salted air creating paper crowns
Over bronzed fingers brushing rogue hair from her cheeks
Broad and strong, inherited from Nemestrinus
Reminiscent of autumn and its old red oaks
That stood sentry as bonfires were lit,
And those shoulders held tightly while the wine flowed around them
Rippling and glowing, wrapped around her waist
Fresh like new growth in the spring after a drenching downpour
More alive than the waves of the Nile
He encompasses her with life, watching her outshine the sun
Smooth and relaxed, like the stones in a zen mas
Siamo il passato che ci trattiene
Non ci fa male ma non ci fa bene
Tu sai di casa ma casa non c’è
Ti cerco e non trovo più niente di te
Siamo il riflesso di un cuore già stanco
Una certezza, una spina nel fianco
A volte i ricordi si fanno ammalianti
Li vedo apparire, rassicuranti
Adesso basta, chiudi la porta
Esci per sempre dalla mia testa
Lasciami libera, lasciami sola
Non c’è domani se ieri consola
Siamo una rosa che triste e dannata
Pende dal gambo ma non s’è spezzata
Assiste sospesa al suo lento appassire
Vorrebbe vivere e sta per morire
Adesso basta, voglio volare
Voglio tuffarmi nel mondo reale
Voglio il sapore del cielo e del mare
Voglio nutrirmi di carne da amare
Voglio graffiarmi, voglio graffiare
Voglio scoprirmi, voglio esplorare
Voglio che un bacio mi lasci calore
L’amore può essere un posto migliore
Late**I'VE BEEN INTRODUCED TO THE WORLD OF POETRY! This, BTW, is my first Sonnet! I hope you like it!**
Waiting, I stood to the side
Watching the crowd move along
Fortunately, his offer I couldn't abide
So I wait and hum a song.
Then it came to me hard
I do believe that he's late
I looked out the empty yard
And saw it was eight
I decided to wait longer
As I watched the crowd clear
I tried to bottle in my anger
As I shed my first tear
My lips slowly began to smile
As he ran down the aisle.
WonderSometimes I don't know what to say
it's strange, my feelings, overly
overtake my perception
and leave me with bad reactions
you leave me speechless
and not even knowing
what just happened..
A Cold Tuesday Morning I still remember that cold Tuesday on that October morning
The thought of your hands running over my trembling lips is still laced through my mind
I'm still remember that it was cold that morning because the tears on my face felt like ice
Your rough but gently hand quick to my face to wipe the tears away from my face
I can never forget those gorgeous blue eyes
Those eyes hold every little thing dear to me within them
Dare I forget your hair as you never did shut up about it
But I would give myself to have those kind of moments again
Your smile had a way of making me stop all together
Only to become breathless again by that mesmerizing laugh
After I would compose myself I couldn't help but to memorize those heavenly lips
Friday GirlFriday Girl
They met online,
In an a 2 bit conversation in an 8 bit version of a 16 bit dating site for analog lives they didn’t have time to live
They had a few conversations.
She watched her social media status updates update every day in a new way to see, feel things unknown for this new stranger
Months passed by days for her to forget about this girl but still she couldn’t just make her go
Their personalities just seemed to flow
feminist activism for the opposite of the wrong way to be alive, this girl breathed life - into her veins
When she spoke
But that wasn’t all - she stole her heart when on that day she travelled to stay for new years day
And when they met, the girl couldn’t say a word, lost without a care in the world, her thoughts escaped her, emotions replaced her in another world where she existed a mass of mixed emotions; soul without body, meeting with her. She spoke different than she expected - But she was interested in what she inspected
a letter to youi don't want to admit that i do what i actually do,
because it seems weak.
it seems stupid.
it makes me vulnerable.
perhaps in futility,
the you that many girls want,
that many girls have had,
that many girls have yet to meet.
i'm writing from all of us,
the collective us,
the chipped notches on your bedpost that have found their voices.
i want to let you know that
i still remember every
minute we had together.
every awkward breath,
every fumbling touch,
every flicker of "i can't
believe we're actually
To us and our firefliesDrenched by the luminescence under the saffron skies, beyond the train tracks and the muddy crossroads we leave our world behind to enter a simpler time. A time to be a child and be amazed by blinking lights. The trees, the wind, the sky and the fireflies will resonate inside me. The beauty of everything that day was amplified and magnified by the presence of her. Some words were spoken though none were required. Nothing could steal the magic. Je t'adore.