Rigor mortis

Permanent damage
seems to be done.
By words that were said,
by the absence of some.

An incurable tumor
afflicts the heart.
Insufferable to bear.
Impossible to rip apart.

A cloud of doubt
hides away the moon.
Like a shadow of the end,
a premonition of doom.

Surgery is required
or maybe a wiccan spell.
Is it a curse or an illness?
It's too early to tell.

A fear has set in
like first frost on a lake.
This coldness that creeps
too persistent to shake.

There's a dread floating now
as spilt oil upon water,
refusing to dissolve
or live with each other.

This scar on the soul,
still fresh enough to bleed,
those spiteful insults
must have done the deed.

Sectumsempra of Snape
is cast upon my mind.
Slashing sharp memories
at angles of all kind.

The death of this is looming
as an army on the horizon.
The worst of it is brewing,
even worse is yet to come.

When?

It's kind of strange,
how you've changed
the way I feel
about the clock.

When you are here
the seconds split
so that each becomes
many lifetimes combined.

It's a little unnerving,
the way you're curving
my lens of time
into a concave form.

So it seems to me
that reality bends
like a hall of mirrors
effortlessly destroyed.

With you I feel
that minutes dissolve,
like dandelion blooms
tossed to the wind.

But it's really absurd
how you've served
in changing what
they used to mean.

And I cannot shake
how easily you make
me lose both sense
and track of my mind.

Without you it's true
I have nothing better to do
than count the seasons
until our lives collide.

Night vision

she always slept
with her face to the sky.
he always dreamt
with his ear to the ground.
maybe it was the fact
that her sights were upward and on,
while his thoughts
came from what was in and around.

they say true love
is opposites attracting
to a common misunderstanding,
but maybe it's just
finding the other idiot
who fills the gaps
when you go to bed at night.

she always kept
a sliver of her eye open,
as if searching for a glimpse
of a dream within the dream.
wishing the other were real
and the one being lived
a bit less so.

she always lay
with her eardrums blocked out
to the sounds of neighbours.
she would instead
be that much gladder
with the voice of his exhale
filling her void.

love is blind
some others tell me
but i know the truth
with each waking morn;
it is the eyes
that sleep wide shut
in which you see
it's your dreams
that survive.

My highness

don't you see
what you do to me
you goddamn fool
just say these little phrases
that somehow let you rule
this kingdom i once
used to call my own
now look at you there
seated on the throne

you are my reason, my liege
the tower within my walls
there can no longer be a siege
i surrender all the wars

don't you see
how i see you
my queen and overlord
i write odes
to your praises
not caring if they are flawed

you are the sun to my frenzy
like Icarus i am mad
i can hear you whisper to me
and for that voice i am glad

Subterfuge

there's a flask of Old Monk
calling out my name
strange kinds of smoke
promise to cloud the pain

pills and ills
will keep me occupied
there's even that poison
waiting by the side

your going away
shouldn't hurt so much
so i'll numb it with addictions
for a lack of your touch

there's old Jack Danny
and a few liters more
of his old friend Johnny
walking on all fours

i don't know what to do
i can't see another way
of living on without you
now that you're going away

there's friends and music
that should distract the mind
chemicals to make me sick
should be easy enough to find

i can surely score a high
that will make me forget
that way that you sigh
and the nook of your neck

you may think this dark
or slanderous to say
but how else do i deal
with your going away?

The pretender

you aren't an artist
just because
you claim to have good taste
picking the best
from a lot presented
is an easy skill to waste

you aren't an artist
just because
you once clicked and shared
a random post
to bring art to facebook
as if you ever really cared

you aren't an artist
for disguising a rant
under the cloak of rhyme
and making it seem
like an easy task
you can do anytime

you aren't an artist
for ignoring the rules
or breaking the purists meter
seriously, do you think
for writing like this
you deserve some kind of feature?

true artists try
to express their world
both within and around
they aren't driven
by a selfish need
their feet are on the ground

look on those books
and see their words
it doesn't matter what you think
you aren't an artist
for writing prose
or for these grammatical sins

true artists rise
above the herd
no matter where they hide
people can hear
in their chosen words
a truth that seems divine

you aren't an artist
for knowing this
you are simply one of the lost
but the day you learn
what they call art
you will also learn the cost

you aren't an artist
if you are afraid
of what your art will mean
and you surely can't
aspire to it
if you've never seen the dream

Velocity

Penned on 19/12/13

we both know the truth
we just refuse to see it

this insane pull
towards an unknown
unseen
unimaginably beautiful
happily ever after
will end up crushing
every incredible moment
we have built
the last months of happiness on

we both know what's coming
we just won't prepare for it

it's common sense
that over time
and owing to
unwieldy distance
we will eventually change
until this equation
becomes unrecognisable
shrouded in apathy
and doubts
about it's very existence

we both know this feeling
we just won't guard against it

we'd rather drown
and be pulled down
to depths
to darkness
to death itself
instead of taking
the obvious step
and cutting loose
in the hope that one of us
might survive the sea

we both know it's over
we just can't accept
the harshest truth of them all
that knowledge
will never save us
when we'd rather turn our backs
and keep listening
to the heart instead

Lock and key

toes and legs
forever entwined

teeth meet necks
or what they can find

rampant scents
clouding up the mind

sound of breaths
both yours mouth and mine

coursing blood
dripping sweat lines

quiet moans
counting down the time

touch of tongue
a roll of the eyes

searching fingers
reach the end of the line

Incurable

honestly
sincerely
truly
i am

madly
mutely
acutely
i am

helpless like
the early worm
i am

hopeless and
in a whirl
i am

fully
wholly
in the jaws
i am

quickly
silently
without a pause
i am

hung and drawn
a marionette
i am

out of control
you can bet
i am

at the mercy
on the sword
i am

hanging on
by a word
i am

insolently
against the crowd
i am

incredibly
without a doubt
i am

without a fight
without a sound
i am

nose to stone
ear to the ground
i am

incurable
i am
immutable
i am
invincible
and in disbelief
i am

by the heart
by a thread
by the gods
i am

blind in faith
against the odds
i am

where do i start
to say how much
i am

hungry for it
for your touch
i am

Amorephobia

love is fear
this does not mean
be afraid of it

it simply educates
that love
is terror incarnate

it is living in dread
of losing
forgetting
or otherwise misplacing
the living other
that makes you
feel love in the first place

love is fear
this does not mean
you should hide from it

it only assures
the lesson all of us
any way adhere to

of facing it
by putting a face to it
mixing a body
and a mind with it
accepting you are scared
and knowing
someone else accepts it too

love is fear
this does not mean
it is your enemy

nor does it hint
love could be
your friend

it is only confirmation
and personification
of it's inexplicably
random behavior
and it's ability
to play both roles
with equal ease

love is fear
this does not mean
it will kill you

but give it a chance
and i promise
love will not
let you live

Veritapoem

there's this thing about distance
the physical kind
mutates into an emotional strain

it's not a guarantee at all
more of an instinct
a gut feel that punches you
right in the jewels

leaving your insides muddled up
leaving your mind befuddled

because the thing about distance
isn't geography
or distrust
or frustration

it's the editing of identity
it's the lack of instant connectivity
it's living a 2D relationship

through a computer screen
through phone conversations
through letters and poems
through time zones

it's a software update
on two compatible heart disks
let down by a lag in the system

it's the strange thing about distance
the unshakeable feeling
of being left behind

of being undefined
because your meaning is miles away

it's calculating the next rendezvous
it's the end of chance
and the death of happen-stance

distance is being clear in words
because your faces are blurred
sending your memories out of spin

so that pixelation
replaces the true life HD person in your arms
as the edges fade
and your sanity follows

that's the thing about distance
being unclear
being inconsiderate
trying to be at two places

divided between the now
and the coming soon

being granted the curse
of thinking before writing

magnified by the ability to turn away
or disconnect
and blame the technology
whose mercy your equation is at
in the first place

love they say
is the easiest thing in the world
distance is what makes it hard
and slowly hardens the heart

you get used to the tears
you grow numb to wishing
you accept the ache

but that's the thing about distance
it amplifies the absence
so the presence
seems more precious

so every minute apart
builds up to your collision
creating sparks
that rival magicians on stage

and that moment
you were holding on for
erases every other
horrible
emotional
and inevitable
thing about distance

Distance dementia

Come here
and hold the world at bay.

Tie it up
with every word you say.

Give me this,
my moments of peace.

Come here
end my torment please.

Hold my hand
stem the flow of blood.

Save me now
from this coming flood.

Come here
put the heart at rest.

Give a chance
put the lies to test.

Come here
in to my nightmare.

You can't hold me
from all the way there.

When the demons
rise and swallow me whole

come here
and salvage my soul.

Nostradamus

i've seen the end
of this crazy play
let me pretend
till you go away

there's no happy song
or a lullaby here
that wouldn't sound wrong
in this moment of fear

so listen up
i know times are tough
but we're strong enough
to pull through
to wherever it is
we're headed now
rolling off the screen
misguided somehow
to the end i'm sure i've seen

though i know
our chance seems slim
and we hope
a second wind
can power our sails
and take us in
to the place you love
and the people who
fit you like a glove
and know your every whim

so don't you look
back at me
when the doors they close
on this memory
and a stupid prose

about the end i've seen
explains the way i've been
and the way the the story goes
until you go away from me
and the night that had me saved
closes in on me

you have to let me go
even you must know
the things we want
and the things we'll get
are seldom too hard
to differentiate

so we hesitate
hoping for a perfect time
waiting in the same line
as everyone else

though i know
it makes no sense
why you and i
choose to cry
and still pretend
when we're standing here
fighting fear
and the end i think i've seen
the end i think i've seen

Foolish emotions.

love so it destroys you
so you can feel
the sting of fingernails
as they clasp
on your heart
leaving behind treads
changing the landscape
of your emotions
like a plough
through a dead field
awaiting some hope
to burst forth
from the earth

love so it consumes you
so there's nothing
left to be taken
apart from cinders
and smoke
just the evidence
of a fatal struggle
between mind and soul
between head and heart
laid to rest
at a scorching touch
as your waves of lust
consummate
the fiery tango

love so it completes you
so a million pieces
could never break you
testing your walls
battering the door
even as the armies
venture forth
like soldier ants
chipping at your defenses
brick by brick
vein by vein
unearthing who you are
from the ashes

and rubble
of who you claim to be

One from the archives

If I'm high
I could never lie
If I mistell the truth
It's under influence of youth

I fear myself
On the changing plane
Younger days
Pass by in vain.

I've lost my will
To write a song
I've lost my need
To carry on

A broken heart
Mends over time
A borrowed life
This isn't mine

So I promise you this
Oh friend of friends
Light it up
Let the night not end
For if I'm high
I could never lie
If I mistell the truth
It's under influence of youth

Cocoon

Fly away
My dear butterfly
This not the way
For you to keep on trying

I can see
The stormy winds
Come to kill us
And to stop you from flying

We can't stand
In the face of this
With fragile wings
And a will to fight the tempest

Give it up
Or the final beat
Of your flight
Will be cause of my madness

So leave me here
Go to your home
To the shell
That will keep you protected

For if you choose
To fly through this
For a hope
For a foolish kind of sadness

I will fight
The winds of change
Or I will die
But not for lack of trying

Though my
Weakened wings
And their tiring beat
May slow or still from fighting

Just let me see
As I'm crashing down
That somehow
You lived to keep on flying

And I will rest
Having known
You were there
Even as my breath was dying

Au revoir

When the morning comes

And you're unsure 

Where you're meant to go 

On the borderline 

Of our promised land 

And dreams we can't ignore 

With the hour 

Drawing closer 

Don't you give in 

To the posers 

And the fakes that line the walls 

Skulking down the dim lit halls 

Where I'd found you 

And we had found it all 

When the bitter night ends 

If you can't see 

Where you find yourself 

Like a blinded man 

Just hold my hand 

I'll help you reach the shelf 

Where our dreams 

Hide with our sorrows 

Beside the treasures 

Of tomorrow 

To hold us up right when we fall 

Straightened spine to keep us tall 

Till this darkness 

Makes the way for dawn 

We'll somehow carry on 

So don't you fear the morn

Voight-Kampff

beautiful lie
tell me why
I should fall for you

will I see
a bluer sky
if I were to follow you

I have no qualms
at giving in
to your every word

give me a chance
before I burn
the things I've always loved

beautiful lie
tell me why
you would do this to me

touch my heart
tug the strings
and then just leave me be

won't you try
to tell me what
we are meant to do

give me advice
show me how
all our dreams come true

beautiful lie
let me try
to read past your perfect smile

just speak your mind
and I'll believe
even if it takes a while

beautiful lie
I could die
beautiful lie
I won't cry
beautiful lie
don't ask me why

Momentary lapse of conscience.

tonight
let the wind speak it's mind
just hide within my arms
forget about our crime
let us first learn
how to survive the night
and then worry about
the coming charge of life
the train isn't leaving
until a far later hour
we've still got a station
or maybe two from afar

though the urge to pull the chain
may linger every moment
and a single shred of weakness
might push us on the pavement
we cannot give in
to the sensible line of thought
we'll end up derailing
wasting all that we have fought

you have to understand
this is no small amount of torment
or some short-lived sadness
keeping us from living in the moment

so tonight
forgive me for my sins
forget the train
give in to your whims
the time of surrender
is just a fleeting chance
this feeling of going under
I promise, it won't last
I promise, we won't last

Waging peace.

10 megatons of a better life
the mushroom cloud
of liberation

we just want to free them
from the sadness
of existence
a slight push
in the right direction
down the path the dodo was led
and the liger
and our conscience

so we grouped them up
in the name of freedom
to give their lives
a sort of upliftment
like a quick fix
for the sagging tits
of an eighties star

as we strapped it
shipped it
and dropped it down
10 megatons
of a better life
the mushroom cloud
of liberation