Post by Synth on Mar 30, 2009 10:30:19 GMT -5
Here's a few poems of mine.
They used to call us Goth -
White-noise and depressing songs
became my pubescent lullabies
when a blade to the wrists
took strength, not cowardice.
We were once proud to say we slit
but now, ashamed, we hide our scars
beneath mesh gloves and leather belts
and matching fishnet shirts.
One Word
I’m playing fingers over a mental archive of words
and I’m searching for words to describe hate and love
mixed in a singular expression describing hate and love
tossed in the turmoil of adolescence; I want one word.
I want the morbid and the chic mixed with
the gay and the sleaze then the list
of stereotypes and generic prescription
of words used to diagnose our revolution.
Just one adjective or noun defined as confusion
and maturity, understanding, but I want the
repetition of mistakes and then the evolution
of our growth; flowering like discomposing dead.
I want one word for the tattering heart
but a fulfilled conscious tittering laughs
escaping wet lips and whispering mouths
as we kiss and talk, worried to talk too loud.
I’m playing my fingers of the course of your palm
matching my index with your pinkie so I can calm
your wavering spirit and breaking soul…
I’m trying to confess and apologize, with only one word...
I’m playing fingers over a mental archive of words
and I’m searching for words to describe hate and love
mixed in a singular expression describing hate and love
tossed in the turmoil of adolescence; I want one word.
I want the morbid and the chic mixed with
the gay and the sleaze then the list
of stereotypes and generic prescription
of words used to diagnose our revolution.
Just one adjective or noun defined as confusion
and maturity, understanding, but I want the
repetition of mistakes and then the evolution
of our growth; flowering like discomposing dead.
I want one word for the tattering heart
but a fulfilled conscious tittering laughs
escaping wet lips and whispering mouths
as we kiss and talk, worried to talk too loud.
I’m playing my fingers of the course of your palm
matching my index with your pinkie so I can calm
your wavering spirit and breaking soul…
I’m trying to confess and apologize, with only one word...
Perhaps I'll recall
Perhaps, the day will darken. Rain
might fall and your voice will mend
into the downpour. Are you still sane?
I will ask, trying to make sense
of your archaic use of port.
You are worth as much as a cracked lens,
You’ll say… Your breath, like rancid pork,
will invade the space I’ll draw between
us both. I’ll see your hand rise, I'll see it loll
back and forth between that seam
that sewed our lives together.
I’ll remember your laughter. You’ll seem
to wither. Your consciousness shall fleet like a feather
adrift in a breeze. You’ll be dead soon, just like mother.
Perhaps, the day will darken. Rain
might fall and your voice will mend
into the downpour. Are you still sane?
I will ask, trying to make sense
of your archaic use of port.
You are worth as much as a cracked lens,
You’ll say… Your breath, like rancid pork,
will invade the space I’ll draw between
us both. I’ll see your hand rise, I'll see it loll
back and forth between that seam
that sewed our lives together.
I’ll remember your laughter. You’ll seem
to wither. Your consciousness shall fleet like a feather
adrift in a breeze. You’ll be dead soon, just like mother.
Marionette
I'm your marionette,
slave only to the lead
tears flying through the length
of a barrel, your own victim.
Strings release
the tense fingers;
you refrain speech
and grin, in ecstasy.
Drill in spin
through flesh
with tears of lead,
just to kill me.
You’d always whisper
against my lips
and then speak
so condescendingly…
Puppeteer,
pull the trigger
with your tongue
'Cause I'm a Marionette
enticed by your skin
when I hear
only what you tell me.
Now kill me
with those callous words,
'cause every single syllable
is a bullet for the gullible.
I'm your marionette,
slave only to the lead
tears flying through the length
of a barrel, your own victim.
Strings release
the tense fingers;
you refrain speech
and grin, in ecstasy.
Drill in spin
through flesh
with tears of lead,
just to kill me.
You’d always whisper
against my lips
and then speak
so condescendingly…
Puppeteer,
pull the trigger
with your tongue
'Cause I'm a Marionette
enticed by your skin
when I hear
only what you tell me.
Now kill me
with those callous words,
'cause every single syllable
is a bullet for the gullible.
Experiment
‘I’m your marionette’ I would recite
and close my eyes under the shine
of her heavy eyes falling on my
smoker’s lips.
I’d frown, she’d grin...
Then she’d take me in, bowing her head,
- whispering I was as hard as lead -
It was too much for my age
to carry a burden so late.
I like to experiment, she said:
Talking about life’s usual fray
as she took a drag from her cig
then blew the ash
- like a memory
of the days when she could still sing -
Smoky lips shifted around me,
evanescent in nature, a natural tease
as a string of smoke after a kiss
filled with raw nicotine.
I liked the way her waist would sway.
I would stare - Cutely, she would say
Then she’d loll her head back and play
her fingers over me, then she’d say:
“I never chose this life...
Time revealed the crimes
I tried to hide.
The red district and the lights
beckoned me to lie
just so I could try
to live for the first time.
Drugs and smokes took my voice
but I swear they ain’t stole my pride.”
Every single syllable
is a bullet for the gullible...
I'd recite then move from her side,
interrupting her story
with a kiss, a tease, anything.
Now kill me
With those callous words,
Just remember we were never
from the same world.
‘I’m your marionette’ I would recite
and close my eyes under the shine
of her heavy eyes falling on my
smoker’s lips.
I’d frown, she’d grin...
Then she’d take me in, bowing her head,
- whispering I was as hard as lead -
It was too much for my age
to carry a burden so late.
I like to experiment, she said:
Talking about life’s usual fray
as she took a drag from her cig
then blew the ash
- like a memory
of the days when she could still sing -
Smoky lips shifted around me,
evanescent in nature, a natural tease
as a string of smoke after a kiss
filled with raw nicotine.
I liked the way her waist would sway.
I would stare - Cutely, she would say
Then she’d loll her head back and play
her fingers over me, then she’d say:
“I never chose this life...
Time revealed the crimes
I tried to hide.
The red district and the lights
beckoned me to lie
just so I could try
to live for the first time.
Drugs and smokes took my voice
but I swear they ain’t stole my pride.”
Every single syllable
is a bullet for the gullible...
I'd recite then move from her side,
interrupting her story
with a kiss, a tease, anything.
Now kill me
With those callous words,
Just remember we were never
from the same world.
They used to call us Goth -
White-noise and depressing songs
became my pubescent lullabies
when a blade to the wrists
took strength, not cowardice.
We were once proud to say we slit
but now, ashamed, we hide our scars
beneath mesh gloves and leather belts
and matching fishnet shirts.
Suicide & Bliss
Your body shuts down;
You’ll feel fine,
I don’t lie,
It’s divine.
Blood, rushes through your veins
Suicide intoxicates your mind
Like lies
One last moment of bliss,
Just one last quick fix
Sweet like a kiss
Brief like a bitter
Wind, a breeze
You’ll feel enslaved to the emotion
Tied down to a material plane
Blood will run, your tears will motion
Too many sentiments, old devotions,
Promises, friends, life flashes before
Your very eyes; You’ll regret it more
One last breathe of air,
Wine red water ensnares;
It’s too late,
To ignore fate.
Your body shuts down;
You’ll feel fine,
I don’t lie,
It’s divine.
Blood, rushes through your veins
Suicide intoxicates your mind
Like lies
One last moment of bliss,
Just one last quick fix
Sweet like a kiss
Brief like a bitter
Wind, a breeze
You’ll feel enslaved to the emotion
Tied down to a material plane
Blood will run, your tears will motion
Too many sentiments, old devotions,
Promises, friends, life flashes before
Your very eyes; You’ll regret it more
One last breathe of air,
Wine red water ensnares;
It’s too late,
To ignore fate.
