Dirges

1 Ideas don't last forever, poetry gets old. I'm marching to a tune that isn't my own; play pretend - a put-on calm and dignity - go to bed with sad thoughts on repeat (shame and sin and sonnets and soul) like the morning paper with its murkiness that makes me wanna cry and bare…

The Sweet Music…

Let us hide underneath the naive leaves that cloud canopy-like above us; let innocent birds call out to the streams that flow all wise, flanked by bushes... Tell me, can you hear the sweet music? There's no need to fall in line with what's been - let the magic of the forbidden set you free;…

INDIFFERENCE

A certain numbness, a certain death, has always resided within my soul, and sometimes I can feel its heart beating… feel the numbness, hear death beat with a life of its own- a certain morose, yet regenerative kind of life- lying so close beside the fresh, vivacious, carefree part of me, that to smother one,…

The Real in the Unreal

Dear reader, it’s funny how the world is so full of contradictions; how every time a proposition is presented, the contradictions come rushing in - the opponents, the critics, the naysayers. Not to sound too morose, but I find the greatest contradiction has manifested itself in regards to the impending inevitable, the doom, the death,…

Hallowed Ground

Don't tread on the hallowed ground of my sins with those holier-than-thou feet, There is a spell to protect and keep sinners like you from its boundaries. I'd never cloaked myself in sanctity, was brave enough to brave your serpentine acrimony; had consecrated each divinely intoxicating memory, purging my soul of every human profanity... Now…