April 27, 08
Angel winds, confronted with
Angel weeping, scar the valley
With hoarse whispers of the dead,
Sins untold of, betrayals uncovered,
Voices of the innocence can never
Be over heard.
So echoes, the Angel winds roaring
Never ceasing to tear the followers
Who sin and blame the water crystals
Who are forever pallid in death's ink
Remembering their innocence, never told
Or known.
So echoes, the Angel winds...
Sunday, 27 April 2008
Thursday, 24 April 2008
Created Space
April 24, 08
Her dream,
Started as a trickle,
From Grandmother's garden.
Her harvest,
Plucked with care,
From her own eyes spilt tears.
Her children,
Now walk together,
In sequence of the army step.
Their blindfolds,
Are made of skin,
With charcoal drawn features.
When walking,
They leave this trail,
Not of blood but of dusty memory.
When looking,
You convince yourself,
They're your imaginative phantasy.
One of us,
Will follow the ghosts,
A little girl in white cotton dress.
She'll try,
To close her eyes,
While she makes her body dance.
So bruised,
That she caves in,
When you look again she's gone.
When she,
Took her steps,
She spilt glass instead of blood.
The children,
Will crawl into stone,
Stone books with their memoirs.
Their names,
You will remember,
Cause they will the children of freedom.
Ignored because of war.
-
Inspired by The Unforgiven by Metallica, the music video
Sunday, 20 April 2008
Age
April 23, 08
From equinox to equinox
Rearing up in searing glory
The mare of my wisdom
Burns in shades of blue to auburn
Liquid ice and fire in sunsets
The leaves of time -
Drifting to rivers of soot
And golden flecks mixtures
The sunset; sunrise -
Reminds me of day at a time
That I remember are beautiful
From solstice to solstice
Buried deep in glorified memories
The regrets of experience
Fade to the dull of pure white
The contrast of dark to day sunrise
Neither short nor long-
Time spilt the sands along dirt
Shining in sunshine sweet rays
Till night spikes time –
And the glimmer is hidden
In that time and age, of solstice
And equinox.
-
Now, this writing is basically about ‘Time’ not so much about age =
Anyway, it is saying that through time, from ‘equinox to equinox’ what you thought was ‘blazing glory’ all this great stuff, that as time goes on, ‘The leaves of time’ (which we all know fall…erm…into the ‘rivers of soot’) that they really aren’t so blazing great. That you only ‘glorified’ them, and added your rich colours, how you remembered them to be ‘beautiful’. But, then when night comes, (Erm, later time basically) your shiny-ness disappears to be hidden, cause it was only grand at that time. And as time moves on, you forget, lost interest, so on so forth. Whatever excuse you come up with.
The over all meaning? Time is only beautiful when you are at it-so stop saying that you need time to understand things-because have too much of it and you become pessimistic! (Bit exaggerated…) Anyway, time is neither short nor long, it is the experiences in time that make *it* useful. Time is just a word, experience is the act.
That is the difference, and that -is what I’m trying to say-You don’t need time to make experience, besides, the experience looses clarity later anyway. We all stand on equal grounds in death, no matter what you did in your *time*.
From equinox to equinox
Rearing up in searing glory
The mare of my wisdom
Burns in shades of blue to auburn
Liquid ice and fire in sunsets
The leaves of time -
Drifting to rivers of soot
And golden flecks mixtures
The sunset; sunrise -
Reminds me of day at a time
That I remember are beautiful
From solstice to solstice
Buried deep in glorified memories
The regrets of experience
Fade to the dull of pure white
The contrast of dark to day sunrise
Neither short nor long-
Time spilt the sands along dirt
Shining in sunshine sweet rays
Till night spikes time –
And the glimmer is hidden
In that time and age, of solstice
And equinox.
-
Now, this writing is basically about ‘Time’ not so much about age =
Anyway, it is saying that through time, from ‘equinox to equinox’ what you thought was ‘blazing glory’ all this great stuff, that as time goes on, ‘The leaves of time’ (which we all know fall…erm…into the ‘rivers of soot’) that they really aren’t so blazing great. That you only ‘glorified’ them, and added your rich colours, how you remembered them to be ‘beautiful’. But, then when night comes, (Erm, later time basically) your shiny-ness disappears to be hidden, cause it was only grand at that time. And as time moves on, you forget, lost interest, so on so forth. Whatever excuse you come up with.
The over all meaning? Time is only beautiful when you are at it-so stop saying that you need time to understand things-because have too much of it and you become pessimistic! (Bit exaggerated…) Anyway, time is neither short nor long, it is the experiences in time that make *it* useful. Time is just a word, experience is the act.
That is the difference, and that -is what I’m trying to say-You don’t need time to make experience, besides, the experience looses clarity later anyway. We all stand on equal grounds in death, no matter what you did in your *time*.
Thursday, 10 April 2008
Victimized
April 10, 08
Swallows, over water
Still pristine and true
Trees reflecting back
Backwards, reaching
Me.
You.
In reflection; looking
Reveries or past
Experience or mistake
Crystalline water of future
Me.
You.
Beyond skin, blood
Very being of self
Soul empties in liquid
To form absentia
The facade of truth,
Create craters filled
With turmoil and fear
Bent on knees; dread
Me.
You.
The Victims
Swallows, over water
Still pristine and true
Trees reflecting back
Backwards, reaching
Me.
You.
In reflection; looking
Reveries or past
Experience or mistake
Crystalline water of future
Me.
You.
Beyond skin, blood
Very being of self
Soul empties in liquid
To form absentia
The facade of truth,
Create craters filled
With turmoil and fear
Bent on knees; dread
Me.
You.
The Victims
Tuesday, 8 April 2008
For Her
April 8, 08
My blood is for her,
My sinew my skin,
Sometimes...
Bone.
And my heart is,
For her.
Parents, love her...
So forth, so do I
I tell myself, keep saying
Keep her,
Protect her,
I wish not for her to die.
Risking my life,risking
For her.
My blood is for her,
My sinew my skin,
Sometimes...
Bone.
And my heart is,
For her.
The debate is,
That I love her-
To my own life,
No?
Yes?
Always I say, always.
But, I want to live,
My own life,
Yes?
No?
Sometimes I say, sometimes
My parents’ reason,
For my birth, daughter love,
Was of that-
That-
I was born…Only,
For her.
They love her
~I love her
Sister
~By I
-
Based on My Sister’s Keeper, a novel by Jodi Picoult
But now she can't help but long for respite from the constant flow of her own blood seeping into her sister's veins. And so she makes a decision that for most would be too difficult to bear, and sues her parents for the rights to her own body.”
*
The book is a large debate whether parents should have the right to birth a child to keep another alive, and the child’s point of view (both). It is an interesting book and provoking, but not to my exact liking. All the same, I found the topic and turmoil stimulating for debates and other thoughts-
Saturday, 5 April 2008
Picturesque
April 5, 08
Over the sides of rocks, rippling
Every disjointed ripple and curve
Just as beautiful as the calm still
Air that I breathe; that picks up
From that beautiful scene, Purity.
Falling from heights and hope
Over the tumbling rocks; spurting
Just as striking in it's imperfect
Surface that was once a mirror
For I still see that pretty, Purity.
Sides eroding as the soft packed
Mud sifts into sand to the bottom
Sides still standing tall even as
It breaks, but each crack is life's
Imperfection, balanced life, Purity.
And even if acid rain fell on me
Standing high above this fall
I'd say it is wondrous purity; for
Even the flaws are harmonious
Because it is how I wish to see
Perfect, Pristine... Purity
Over the sides of rocks, rippling
Every disjointed ripple and curve
Just as beautiful as the calm still
Air that I breathe; that picks up
From that beautiful scene, Purity.
Falling from heights and hope
Over the tumbling rocks; spurting
Just as striking in it's imperfect
Surface that was once a mirror
For I still see that pretty, Purity.
Sides eroding as the soft packed
Mud sifts into sand to the bottom
Sides still standing tall even as
It breaks, but each crack is life's
Imperfection, balanced life, Purity.
And even if acid rain fell on me
Standing high above this fall
I'd say it is wondrous purity; for
Even the flaws are harmonious
Because it is how I wish to see
Perfect, Pristine... Purity
Friday, 4 April 2008
I like who I am, but hate myself
Only those who attempt the absurd will achieve the impossible. I think it's in my basement... let me go upstairs and check. ~M.C. Escher
"I do not choose to dream;there cometh on me
Some strange old lust for deeds"
-In the Old Age of the Soul, Ezra Pound
Don't worry about the world coming to an end today. It is already tomorrow in Australia. ~Charles Schulz
Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia. ~ E.L. Doctorow
And I listen for the whispers
Of your sweet insanity
As I formulate denials
Of your effect on me
-The Stranger, A Perfect Circle (Maynard James Keenan)
A courage is needed, as deep as despair
-The Sight, David Clement-Davies
Light shines brighter in darker places
-Alison Croggon
The body is trapped in reality; but the mind is free to roam the oblivion of fiction and fantasy.
The past lingers with smells, the present is full of them, and the future uses our imagination.
"I do not choose to dream;there cometh on me
Some strange old lust for deeds"
-In the Old Age of the Soul, Ezra Pound
Don't worry about the world coming to an end today. It is already tomorrow in Australia. ~Charles Schulz
Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia. ~ E.L. Doctorow
And I listen for the whispers
Of your sweet insanity
As I formulate denials
Of your effect on me
-The Stranger, A Perfect Circle (Maynard James Keenan)
A courage is needed, as deep as despair
-The Sight, David Clement-Davies
Light shines brighter in darker places
-Alison Croggon
The body is trapped in reality; but the mind is free to roam the oblivion of fiction and fantasy.
The past lingers with smells, the present is full of them, and the future uses our imagination.
Stranger
April 4, 08
Within this note, Stranger
I ask you not to walk away
Within this note, Stranger
I give you my decaying soul
In its many shades of colours
For truly, it fades through
Black and White
Thank you, Stranger
For listening to my words
Thank you, Stranger
For smiling at my scribbled soul
Strings formed into words
Connecting and breaking
Drenched and Dripping
Until I'm dried out,
Thank you Stranger,
For listening,
And taking,
My Soul.
Within this note, Stranger
I ask you not to walk away
Within this note, Stranger
I give you my decaying soul
In its many shades of colours
For truly, it fades through
Black and White
Thank you, Stranger
For listening to my words
Thank you, Stranger
For smiling at my scribbled soul
Strings formed into words
Connecting and breaking
Drenched and Dripping
Until I'm dried out,
Thank you Stranger,
For listening,
And taking,
My Soul.
Thursday, 3 April 2008
Night's Tenor
March 7, 08
Four point diamond star
Glitterin' like proud jewel
On Enchantress Night's dress
Night covers her naked void
With the songs woven from
Midnight lover's deep words
-Sense Naye to one
Hypnotizing dancing colours
Of deep auras we admire
Encircling Ancient Rune named Moon
It's the ambiguous wolves' audience
-Sense Naye to one
The patterned cycle ever ending
Wave by wave to frothy reef
Stars with spilled 'tales' flying
Ends catch our awe and wishes
Love the foreboding end told
*
Dips his paint brushes in kerosene
Paint his glorious Night's canvas
God's stars have bloody 'tales'
-Sense Naye to one
-
(Sense Naye to one=doesn't make sense to anyone)
Description:
The main idea was wishing upon stars, we wish upon stars when we cannot even say we all agree on how they came to be, or all about them. Yet we place so much trust in their patterns around the "Ancient Rune" (the moon) and for wishes. Why isn't that trust so freely given to people anymore? And when the stars change (as people do) we still trust the stars...but, aye, not the people? I'm getting ahead of myself. You may think more on this at your own time.
The first stanza speaks of a diamond which represents the star, and the "enchantress" is "Night" (obviously I personified it)
The second is talking about Night (again personified) and how she is dressed in deep dark colours (black for the most part as we know) and deep is how we would imagine lovers words, no? So that is where that comes in.
The third is talking about the changing stars, I use the words "hypnotizing dancing" to show the danger of their change...We, as humans, often think of being hypnotized a scary event-to not be in control-which, of course, is right. We cannot control everything-People...or Stars.
The fourth is more on the pattern, but also includes the moon-I did this mostly because I didn't want to leave out any detail of night-but as well as I quite liked the way to describe the moon as "wolves' audience" and the line, "Wave by wave to frothy reef" I found fitting.
The fifth talks about the shooting stars-finally on the theme, of wishing upon stars-for we wish upon the shooting stars, no? I changed the "tail" to be "tale" because if we wish upon them, whether it came true or not is an own Tale...But (since I am non believer in that sort) I mentioned the "foreboding end" and sarcastic "love" for it.
The last stanza was merely pointing out that we don't know how they came, "god" or science or whatever else.The repetitive was to drive the point that we do not know.And make you question/think
Four point diamond star
Glitterin' like proud jewel
On Enchantress Night's dress
Night covers her naked void
With the songs woven from
Midnight lover's deep words
-Sense Naye to one
Hypnotizing dancing colours
Of deep auras we admire
Encircling Ancient Rune named Moon
It's the ambiguous wolves' audience
-Sense Naye to one
The patterned cycle ever ending
Wave by wave to frothy reef
Stars with spilled 'tales' flying
Ends catch our awe and wishes
Love the foreboding end told
*
Dips his paint brushes in kerosene
Paint his glorious Night's canvas
God's stars have bloody 'tales'
-Sense Naye to one
-
(Sense Naye to one=doesn't make sense to anyone)
Description:
The main idea was wishing upon stars, we wish upon stars when we cannot even say we all agree on how they came to be, or all about them. Yet we place so much trust in their patterns around the "Ancient Rune" (the moon) and for wishes. Why isn't that trust so freely given to people anymore? And when the stars change (as people do) we still trust the stars...but, aye, not the people? I'm getting ahead of myself. You may think more on this at your own time.
The first stanza speaks of a diamond which represents the star, and the "enchantress" is "Night" (obviously I personified it)
The second is talking about Night (again personified) and how she is dressed in deep dark colours (black for the most part as we know) and deep is how we would imagine lovers words, no? So that is where that comes in.
The third is talking about the changing stars, I use the words "hypnotizing dancing" to show the danger of their change...We, as humans, often think of being hypnotized a scary event-to not be in control-which, of course, is right. We cannot control everything-People...or Stars.
The fourth is more on the pattern, but also includes the moon-I did this mostly because I didn't want to leave out any detail of night-but as well as I quite liked the way to describe the moon as "wolves' audience" and the line, "Wave by wave to frothy reef" I found fitting.
The fifth talks about the shooting stars-finally on the theme, of wishing upon stars-for we wish upon the shooting stars, no? I changed the "tail" to be "tale" because if we wish upon them, whether it came true or not is an own Tale...But (since I am non believer in that sort) I mentioned the "foreboding end" and sarcastic "love" for it.
The last stanza was merely pointing out that we don't know how they came, "god" or science or whatever else.The repetitive was to drive the point that we do not know.And make you question/think
Act
Feb. 19, 08
Frenzy!
Crashing!
Burning!
All before closed eyes
The bomb!
Air never felt so brutally oppressive
Debris slices through skins of many
Fire engulfs carrying the hoard of evil
Adding the chorus to air already roaring
Screams start to follow;horses wounded
The bomb!
The Saviour...
She survives. But she is dead. Dying.
Cannot even grip the little boys hand
The boys hand she grabbed before
To fly him over the rail, he had wings.
Her wings were burnt on feral flight
The Saviour...
Fading!
Ceasing!
Buried!
As they close her eyes
She cried when she was alone
------------------------------------------------------------------------
We have everyday villains, we have every day heroes. And, yes, we have every day victims.
Is it fair of herself... ourselves ... to feel guilty about survival? Is it fair not to?Is an acknowledgment enough for the thousands dying?... Dying
This is an honourer for the Act, someone who couldn't save everyone, but who saved one.
And a memoir for the ones who feel the guilt of living, how the self induce suffering.
And remember:
You are nothing to the world dead, but you can be something to the world just breathing
Frenzy!
Crashing!
Burning!
All before closed eyes
The bomb!
Air never felt so brutally oppressive
Debris slices through skins of many
Fire engulfs carrying the hoard of evil
Adding the chorus to air already roaring
Screams start to follow;horses wounded
The bomb!
The Saviour...
She survives. But she is dead. Dying.
Cannot even grip the little boys hand
The boys hand she grabbed before
To fly him over the rail, he had wings.
Her wings were burnt on feral flight
The Saviour...
Fading!
Ceasing!
Buried!
As they close her eyes
She cried when she was alone
------------------------------------------------------------------------
We have everyday villains, we have every day heroes. And, yes, we have every day victims.
Is it fair of herself... ourselves ... to feel guilty about survival? Is it fair not to?Is an acknowledgment enough for the thousands dying?... Dying
This is an honourer for the Act, someone who couldn't save everyone, but who saved one.
And a memoir for the ones who feel the guilt of living, how the self induce suffering.
And remember:
You are nothing to the world dead, but you can be something to the world just breathing
Wraith
March 31, 08
Dripping blood, so dark-
You'll swear it is black
Mahogany swept back hair,
Skin too covered,
With blood,
With scars,
With hate,
To tell the innocent colour.
Wrapped around she wore-
As she privately thought it
A crown marked by jewels,
And a necklace made,
Of roses,
Of barb wire,
Of hate,
The shiny is only light reflections
And she privately thought-
In her eternity of time
That she was beautiful still,
Even if she was covered,
In maggots,
In dirt,
In hate,
So much that it ate her away.
Leaving a dead body.
They called her Whore
-They call her Wraith.
Dripping blood, so dark-
You'll swear it is black
Mahogany swept back hair,
Skin too covered,
With blood,
With scars,
With hate,
To tell the innocent colour.
Wrapped around she wore-
As she privately thought it
A crown marked by jewels,
And a necklace made,
Of roses,
Of barb wire,
Of hate,
The shiny is only light reflections
And she privately thought-
In her eternity of time
That she was beautiful still,
Even if she was covered,
In maggots,
In dirt,
In hate,
So much that it ate her away.
Leaving a dead body.
They called her Whore
-They call her Wraith.
Vent Loose (Rebellion)
November 15, 07
Through war and blood shed
Grotesque and gruesome
I am the mutineer of war
I am peace
A battle rages in environment; in soul
My personal belief of right and wrong
And the political Commandments of God*
“Go to war! Fight for your Country!”
But I hear, “Fight someone else’s battles!”
Can I justify my act of obduracy?
Can you justify your act of futility?
Fight for yourself! I love my country
But I love my soul and family needs
Do not put chains on my free working hands
I will not kill man as a beast is known
I am the new rebellion for the Political Lord
Of superficial ego and esteemed minds
I will not bend to my knees or kill for you
Nor for anybody else- This is judgment at any cost
I stand in front of my Commander
Between my rights and loyalty
Clad in army green turned red
I am a deserter
Through discriminating stares
Conformity and independence
I am the rebellion or society
I am alone
But is it fair that we have become so thick
That a gun to our face tells us our justification
He is wrong or right depending on size of his “posse”
The war isn’t just on the battle field
But of the social chain of society
Become the new Rebellion of the new age
Not a follower or soldier but a person
Out wit with strategies and leave them behind
Not as a soldier, but as a human being
I will raise my voice, but not in a yell
Do not dare send me to a mine field
Going down in flames with either death
Gun between the eyes or through the heart
Love for country, Loyalty. Or fear
I stand before my fellow people
Between my dreams and glares
“Out of sight-out of mind”
I am Alone
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(*=Reference to the Christian Ten Commandments-irony)
Through war and blood shed
Grotesque and gruesome
I am the mutineer of war
I am peace
A battle rages in environment; in soul
My personal belief of right and wrong
And the political Commandments of God*
“Go to war! Fight for your Country!”
But I hear, “Fight someone else’s battles!”
Can I justify my act of obduracy?
Can you justify your act of futility?
Fight for yourself! I love my country
But I love my soul and family needs
Do not put chains on my free working hands
I will not kill man as a beast is known
I am the new rebellion for the Political Lord
Of superficial ego and esteemed minds
I will not bend to my knees or kill for you
Nor for anybody else- This is judgment at any cost
I stand in front of my Commander
Between my rights and loyalty
Clad in army green turned red
I am a deserter
Through discriminating stares
Conformity and independence
I am the rebellion or society
I am alone
But is it fair that we have become so thick
That a gun to our face tells us our justification
He is wrong or right depending on size of his “posse”
The war isn’t just on the battle field
But of the social chain of society
Become the new Rebellion of the new age
Not a follower or soldier but a person
Out wit with strategies and leave them behind
Not as a soldier, but as a human being
I will raise my voice, but not in a yell
Do not dare send me to a mine field
Going down in flames with either death
Gun between the eyes or through the heart
Love for country, Loyalty. Or fear
I stand before my fellow people
Between my dreams and glares
“Out of sight-out of mind”
I am Alone
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(*=Reference to the Christian Ten Commandments-irony)
Veterans Death
Sept. 9, 07
A barren country that used to be full of life
Products of war now scatter along the country side
The death is a heavy acrid aroma in the air
Ghosts of bodies that follow me to my nightmares
The shivers running up and down my spine
The pale scaled skin of goosebumps is mine
The cold dread in my guts matched my face
I wish, among my brothers, I could take my place
The shouts, screams, and gun shots fill my ears
Somehow, the noises in my memories I can hear
I am blind, deaf, and dead to my very soul
But my heart still beats past every morning's dawn
My punishment for living and taking another breath
Is for them to keep talking to me even though I'm deaf
I wait patiently for time to make dust from my bones
So much death I have seen, but I haven't seen my own
~Sirens, sirens!
Heed the warning
Children screaming
Parents Fearing
It's to late for any prayer
The bombs were dropped
Without a care~
A barren country that used to be full of life
Products of war now scatter along the country side
The death is a heavy acrid aroma in the air
Ghosts of bodies that follow me to my nightmares
The shivers running up and down my spine
The pale scaled skin of goosebumps is mine
The cold dread in my guts matched my face
I wish, among my brothers, I could take my place
The shouts, screams, and gun shots fill my ears
Somehow, the noises in my memories I can hear
I am blind, deaf, and dead to my very soul
But my heart still beats past every morning's dawn
My punishment for living and taking another breath
Is for them to keep talking to me even though I'm deaf
I wait patiently for time to make dust from my bones
So much death I have seen, but I haven't seen my own
~Sirens, sirens!
Heed the warning
Children screaming
Parents Fearing
It's to late for any prayer
The bombs were dropped
Without a care~
Twice Stoned
Feb. 15, 08
Where have I been and done?
My eyes with no passion found
Stare at shaky hands incised
No memory.
Standing upon heath; I'm high
Face up turned, O' God; I'm sin
Wind shakes me; I'm realizing...
No memory?
Theatre deep thunder; Gasping
Hide my sobs of unknown reason
Rain hides my tears of pain, or guilt
No memory...
If wind will take my soul; Up higher
My mind freedom come; Free of sin
For a single blissful moment; I know
Memory
My blood is no better than this dirt
...He told me...
Salvation achieved
-Brief Explanation:
Twice Stoned is a reference to the biblical phrase, "Let the one free of sin throw the first stone", it is a twist upon the saying for the writings 'character' has had two stones, Two Sins so to speak. One of the characters and one that was placed upon the character. -The first being of an enigma, let's say for my preference murder. (Cheery I am) And the second the sin against the character, say their own murder, hence the line, "My blood is no better than this dirt...He told me..." That line comes after a Freedom, as in the death, from the previous stanza understood?- clarified:"Rain hides my tears of pain, or guilt"
Pain against and guilt of act.
Where have I been and done?
My eyes with no passion found
Stare at shaky hands incised
No memory.
Standing upon heath; I'm high
Face up turned, O' God; I'm sin
Wind shakes me; I'm realizing...
No memory?
Theatre deep thunder; Gasping
Hide my sobs of unknown reason
Rain hides my tears of pain, or guilt
No memory...
If wind will take my soul; Up higher
My mind freedom come; Free of sin
For a single blissful moment; I know
Memory
My blood is no better than this dirt
...He told me...
Salvation achieved
-Brief Explanation:
Twice Stoned is a reference to the biblical phrase, "Let the one free of sin throw the first stone", it is a twist upon the saying for the writings 'character' has had two stones, Two Sins so to speak. One of the characters and one that was placed upon the character. -The first being of an enigma, let's say for my preference murder. (Cheery I am) And the second the sin against the character, say their own murder, hence the line, "My blood is no better than this dirt...He told me..." That line comes after a Freedom, as in the death, from the previous stanza understood?- clarified:"Rain hides my tears of pain, or guilt"
Pain against and guilt of act.
Traumatic Bonding
March 21, 08
Shatter, me
With glass you threw,
Filled with wine,
Against the wall
I don't know,
Why,
I try,
When I'm already broken.
Snapped,
In half,
Can't fix what's (already) broken.
I try to understand,
I do,
But my,
Perspective, is different.
I see,
I close,
My eyes; I don't like to dream,
Of dead,
Bodies.
Shatter, me
With glass you threw,
Filled with wine,
Against the wall
I don't know,
Why,
I always come back to you,
I love
I hate
Just as much and equally,
Hate
What you do,
I hate the blood that spills
But I will always love,
The wine,
Against,
The wall.
*
Traumatic bonding, a term sometimes applied to battered women who seem unduly devoted to their abusive partners.
- http://www.encyclopedia.com/doc/1G1-166350569.html
The concept of Traumatic Bonding has also been developed to explain the dynamics of domestic violence relationships. Essentially, strong emotional connections develop between the victim and the perpetrator during the abusive relationship. These emotional ties develop due to the imbalance of power between the batterer and the victim and because the treatment is intermittently good and bad. In terms of the power imbalance, as the abuser gains more power, the abused individual feels worse about him- or herself, is less able to protect him- or herself, and is less competent. The abused person therefore becomes increasingly dependent on the abuser. The second key factor in traumatic bonding is the intermittent and unpredictable abuse. While this may sound counterintuitive, the abuse is offset by an increase in positive behaviors such as attention, gifts, and promises. The abused individual also feels relief that the abuse has ended. Thus, there is intermittent reinforcement for the behavior, which is difficult to extinguish and serves instead to strengthen the bond between the abuser and the individual being abused.
-http://www.ncptsd.va.gov/ncmain/ncdocs/fact_shts/fs_domestic_violence.html
Spectral
Feb.1, 08
I'm dying in green fading light
Sinking in blinking and flashes
Hallucinations are my friends
They stay, where they didn't
They, They, They, Run away
Run away.
My voice leaks with madness
My movements a jerky grace
Odd habits of compulsions
It's my normalcy, Normal left
Normal, Normal, Normal, gone
Gone away.
Forced into these thoughts
Forced into my living nightmare
Trauma promises to be with me
Just a memory, that blankets
Memory, Memory, Memory, cold
Frozen away.
I think I'm dead.
Too bad wishes don't come true.
I'm dying in green fading light
Sinking in blinking and flashes
Hallucinations are my friends
They stay, where they didn't
They, They, They, Run away
Run away.
My voice leaks with madness
My movements a jerky grace
Odd habits of compulsions
It's my normalcy, Normal left
Normal, Normal, Normal, gone
Gone away.
Forced into these thoughts
Forced into my living nightmare
Trauma promises to be with me
Just a memory, that blankets
Memory, Memory, Memory, cold
Frozen away.
I think I'm dead.
Too bad wishes don't come true.
Smoking
March 18, 08
I reek.
Of your
Dirty satisfaction
I smile.
At your
Ignorant knowledge
All the ropes you bound me with
Painted black with the blood we share
All the ropes you bound me with
Made me, make me, consume me!
If I am alluring, am I an angel again?
It is all I want you to think of me as.
Tipping my head back, with sinful
Satisfaction
I’ll let myself become undone, undone
Stripping me away-Body un made
Unwrapping, becoming, skin blood
And nothing.
I’ll be so lost; you need to collar me up
And you never know that I’m fake
I’m fake. I’m fake. And fear, fear
Smile.
Fear what you thought you tamed
Dirty nails burn purgatory in reality
And biting is too good for your death
Just leave your body in un rest
I made.
Myself
How I wished to be
I dreamed
Myself
How I wished to be
*
Dreams Lie, by making us believe
I reek.
Of your
Dirty satisfaction
I smile.
At your
Ignorant knowledge
All the ropes you bound me with
Painted black with the blood we share
All the ropes you bound me with
Made me, make me, consume me!
If I am alluring, am I an angel again?
It is all I want you to think of me as.
Tipping my head back, with sinful
Satisfaction
I’ll let myself become undone, undone
Stripping me away-Body un made
Unwrapping, becoming, skin blood
And nothing.
I’ll be so lost; you need to collar me up
And you never know that I’m fake
I’m fake. I’m fake. And fear, fear
Smile.
Fear what you thought you tamed
Dirty nails burn purgatory in reality
And biting is too good for your death
Just leave your body in un rest
I made.
Myself
How I wished to be
I dreamed
Myself
How I wished to be
*
Dreams Lie, by making us believe
Play Me
March 20, 08
Deny me,
All that was ever in my thoughts
I gave,
To you,
Your wish,
Is mine.
Forsake me,
All that I ever do, every single move,
I gave,
For you,
Your desire,
Is mine.
*
Leave me,
As I finally stand in cold winds and realize,
All I gave,
For you,
Was futile,
For me.
Deny me,
All that was ever in my thoughts
I gave,
To you,
Your wish,
Is mine.
Forsake me,
All that I ever do, every single move,
I gave,
For you,
Your desire,
Is mine.
*
Leave me,
As I finally stand in cold winds and realize,
All I gave,
For you,
Was futile,
For me.
Murphy.
Murphy's Law
If there are two or more ways to do something, and one of those ways can result in a catastrophe, then someone will do it.
Murphy's 2nd Law
If anything can go wrong -- it will.
Murphy's First Corollary
Left to themselves, things tend to go from bad to worse.
Murphy's Second Corollary
It is impossible to make anything foolproof because fools are so ingenious.
Quantized Revision of Murphy's Law
Everything goes wrong all at once.
Murphy's Constant
Matter will be damaged in direct proportion to its value.
The Murphy Philosophy
Smile... tomorrow will be worse.
If there are two or more ways to do something, and one of those ways can result in a catastrophe, then someone will do it.
Murphy's 2nd Law
If anything can go wrong -- it will.
Murphy's First Corollary
Left to themselves, things tend to go from bad to worse.
Murphy's Second Corollary
It is impossible to make anything foolproof because fools are so ingenious.
Quantized Revision of Murphy's Law
Everything goes wrong all at once.
Murphy's Constant
Matter will be damaged in direct proportion to its value.
The Murphy Philosophy
Smile... tomorrow will be worse.
Just Words
Jan 4, 08
With words of the senses...
And lines of known prose’s
Powerful and jolting-
Powerful and jolting!
Linked, drowned, soaked...
With passion and emotion
Aches and joy-
Aches and joy!
*
Words that can be whispered
Words that can be screamed...
Words, I spit!
That are so useless to you?
Tainted by your ugly vulgar
Do you not care for the words?
Do they evade your thick mind?
Filth, you filth!
Words that can be whispered
Words that can be screamed!
You liar, be damned!
Words that you said as an act
Never. Never. Never. Never!
I will never trust those emotions
Be damned, thief!
Words that can be whispered
Words that can be screamed!
Passion, of hate!
You took the words from me
Stripped them of sweet meaning
Turned them in slimy hands
Seething, the anger!
Words that can be whispered
Words that can be screamed...
Oh broken, to weak…
Love was such the Old Lie
I never did see the truth
You never did love me did you?
Will never, cry…
Words that can be whispered
Words that can be screamed...
*
Words creating the river…
Each our own to fish words
Ours and always-
Ours and always!
Do not taint my river, my river…
Even as it flows to the ocean
Sip and gulp-
Sip and gulp!
With words of the senses...
And lines of known prose’s
Powerful and jolting-
Powerful and jolting!
Linked, drowned, soaked...
With passion and emotion
Aches and joy-
Aches and joy!
*
Words that can be whispered
Words that can be screamed...
Words, I spit!
That are so useless to you?
Tainted by your ugly vulgar
Do you not care for the words?
Do they evade your thick mind?
Filth, you filth!
Words that can be whispered
Words that can be screamed!
You liar, be damned!
Words that you said as an act
Never. Never. Never. Never!
I will never trust those emotions
Be damned, thief!
Words that can be whispered
Words that can be screamed!
Passion, of hate!
You took the words from me
Stripped them of sweet meaning
Turned them in slimy hands
Seething, the anger!
Words that can be whispered
Words that can be screamed...
Oh broken, to weak…
Love was such the Old Lie
I never did see the truth
You never did love me did you?
Will never, cry…
Words that can be whispered
Words that can be screamed...
*
Words creating the river…
Each our own to fish words
Ours and always-
Ours and always!
Do not taint my river, my river…
Even as it flows to the ocean
Sip and gulp-
Sip and gulp!
Joker and Jester
Joker: (Random)
Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, I gain power.
Through power, I gain victory.
Through victory, my chains are broken.
The Force shall free me.
Jester: (Me)
Peace is a perspective, there is only choice.
Through choice, I gain ignorance or knowledge.
Through knowledge, I gain self determination.
Through self determination, I gain compassion.
Through compassion, I free the rest.
The Peace of Self shall free me.
-You, sir, are Ignorant.
Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, I gain power.
Through power, I gain victory.
Through victory, my chains are broken.
The Force shall free me.
Jester: (Me)
Peace is a perspective, there is only choice.
Through choice, I gain ignorance or knowledge.
Through knowledge, I gain self determination.
Through self determination, I gain compassion.
Through compassion, I free the rest.
The Peace of Self shall free me.
-You, sir, are Ignorant.
Infliction
Feb 8, 08
Pressure is building; burdensome
Heavy on my limbs; Dragging me
The mental pain; almost physical
And closing eyes doesn’t stop me
From seeing those gone reveries
What could have been and be
Something over controlling; breaking
Wearing me down; deteriorating will
The mental pain; almost physical
And closing eyes doesn’t stop me
From the scintillate mirage hope
That appears before my slivered heart
Biting lips; anxiety delving reason
Biting harsher; anger over coming
The mental pain; almost physical
And closing eyes doesn’t stop me
Wearing me down; deteriorating will
That appears before my slivered heart
*
Smile through that melancholy
Because that helplessness evolves
Anger? Anger is power. I smile
I like that power.
Do I?
Pressure is building; burdensome
Heavy on my limbs; Dragging me
The mental pain; almost physical
And closing eyes doesn’t stop me
From seeing those gone reveries
What could have been and be
Something over controlling; breaking
Wearing me down; deteriorating will
The mental pain; almost physical
And closing eyes doesn’t stop me
From the scintillate mirage hope
That appears before my slivered heart
Biting lips; anxiety delving reason
Biting harsher; anger over coming
The mental pain; almost physical
And closing eyes doesn’t stop me
Wearing me down; deteriorating will
That appears before my slivered heart
*
Smile through that melancholy
Because that helplessness evolves
Anger? Anger is power. I smile
I like that power.
Do I?
I Am Poetry
Jan 18, 08
I am sweet and I am gorgeous
I am lovely and I am beautiful,
Poetry makes me, the way I move
Swift and colourful with my grace
Dancing the dance, each step my walk
Living my life, I write, I sing, I dream
Truly do you doubt? I am poetry
I am feelings, crashing falling, flying
I am thoughts, dying fading, moulding
I am self, breathing bleeding, living
I am a ghost a person a life a rose
Truly do you doubt? I am poetry
The sun is setting but is rising there
Never ending beginning isn't here
Unravel me and find more knots to knit
Create, destroy, seek, and lose me
Truly do you doubt? I am poetry
I am an echo, no thought is my own
I am my own voice, I proclaim all I know
I am surviving, knowing I'm dying
I am an angel, living in self made sins
Truly do you doubt? I am poetry
Can't figure me out, though I'm simple
A rainbow of shades of black and white
Riddles make answers and more questions
And I am beautiful in mysterious shadows
Truly do you doubt? I am poetry
Poetry is beauty and feelings of myself
And thoughts copy-me-mine, my own
I am sweet and I am gorgeous
I am lovely and I am beautiful,
Poetry makes me, the way I move
Swift and colourful with my grace
Dancing the dance, each step my walk
Living my life, I write, I sing, I dream
Truly do you doubt? I am poetry
I am feelings, crashing falling, flying
I am thoughts, dying fading, moulding
I am self, breathing bleeding, living
I am a ghost a person a life a rose
Truly do you doubt? I am poetry
The sun is setting but is rising there
Never ending beginning isn't here
Unravel me and find more knots to knit
Create, destroy, seek, and lose me
Truly do you doubt? I am poetry
I am an echo, no thought is my own
I am my own voice, I proclaim all I know
I am surviving, knowing I'm dying
I am an angel, living in self made sins
Truly do you doubt? I am poetry
Can't figure me out, though I'm simple
A rainbow of shades of black and white
Riddles make answers and more questions
And I am beautiful in mysterious shadows
Truly do you doubt? I am poetry
Poetry is beauty and feelings of myself
And thoughts copy-me-mine, my own
Flower Blindfolds
March 10, 08
Torrents of unforgiving,
Pretty smiles may seem brittle.
And plastic dolls with real tears,
May be lost in confusion.
Street lights don’t exist,
Neither does heaven’s aura.
Flickering fireflies dance,
The only show of life…
But fireflies flickering…
May be your hope dancing tonight.
World isn't perfect; isn’t honest,
Dance to the melody of lies…
…It’s as saccharine
As the child who plucks weeds,
To place by home made graves,
To the dead and dying.
Grey skies hovering,
Blanketing and consuming,
Empty souls and opal eyes.
Sight dulled by bliss.
Overlook what’s small,
Laughter isn’t as boisterous,
As how thunderously you scream.
No rain falls today.
~Daisy~
Torrents of unforgiving,
Pretty smiles may seem brittle.
And plastic dolls with real tears,
May be lost in confusion.
Street lights don’t exist,
Neither does heaven’s aura.
Flickering fireflies dance,
The only show of life…
But fireflies flickering…
May be your hope dancing tonight.
World isn't perfect; isn’t honest,
Dance to the melody of lies…
…It’s as saccharine
As the child who plucks weeds,
To place by home made graves,
To the dead and dying.
Grey skies hovering,
Blanketing and consuming,
Empty souls and opal eyes.
Sight dulled by bliss.
Overlook what’s small,
Laughter isn’t as boisterous,
As how thunderously you scream.
No rain falls today.
~Daisy~
Fabrication
Feb 3, 08
Birch Tree
Which grows in light; not wood
Each wind that moves your branch
Sings with the rustle of spring dew
Birch Tree
Circles around thy bough speak Age
Wisdom comes under your canvas
Within your roots a strange paradox
Beautiful in a corporeal yet celestial aura
Above the ground such Peaceful breath
But with the source of Life underground
Tangles and webs of mystery; an enigma
Living from sins from all eons of time
Blood soaks down; Drunk and High You grow
Birch Tree
I'll journey for the silhouette of You
The golden light of your trunk to leaf
And roots hidden; where my blood soaks
Down.
Birch Tree
Which grows in light; not wood
Each wind that moves your branch
Sings with the rustle of spring dew
Birch Tree
Circles around thy bough speak Age
Wisdom comes under your canvas
Within your roots a strange paradox
Beautiful in a corporeal yet celestial aura
Above the ground such Peaceful breath
But with the source of Life underground
Tangles and webs of mystery; an enigma
Living from sins from all eons of time
Blood soaks down; Drunk and High You grow
Birch Tree
I'll journey for the silhouette of You
The golden light of your trunk to leaf
And roots hidden; where my blood soaks
Down.
Discord
Feb. 29, 08
Dark, damp, cold. Me and home.
Tunnels, underground tunnels
Whirring and winding with air
So stale dead air. Like me.
The ground is dirt-or maybe not
Bones crushed look the same
As long. As they mix with blood.
Would you call me names and blame?
If you saw how I slunk around
My body is a whip. And I hurt.
Me, and My(and)Self and You.
I was your guardian angel
I was a highly achieved cop
Maybe. Maybe I was diseased
It started small, I may of shoved
It felt good, that rush of power
Smile. A real smile on a driven face
My last time. Was- is my last time
I needed comfort at night, blame me?
My job had no justice some nights
Whore. Bloody drugged up whore.
Death wasn't noticed, nor hers
So I did some more, blame me?
I kept your streets clean still then
A night shift. I kept your streets clean.
Headaches forming, blame me?
I had a tumour, ugly nasty thing
She was a beautiful doctor
Not like the others, so clean,
Innocent, but brought bad news
Her death felt better. Better.
I was gone then. I don't remember.
I survived that first night search
I had knowledge and I know
I won't be caught. Ever caught.
Where is the rage tumours bring?
Blame blame blame, do you blame me?
It is with the Justice.
-
Disorders resulting from metabolic or neurologic dysfunction can cause violent behavior.
Common causes include epilepsy, brain tumor, encephalitis, head injury, endocrine disorders, metabolic disorders
(such as uremia and calcium imbalance), and severe physical trauma.
Blame some?
-http://wrongdiagnosis.com/p/psychosis/causes.htm
Dark, damp, cold. Me and home.
Tunnels, underground tunnels
Whirring and winding with air
So stale dead air. Like me.
The ground is dirt-or maybe not
Bones crushed look the same
As long. As they mix with blood.
Would you call me names and blame?
If you saw how I slunk around
My body is a whip. And I hurt.
Me, and My(and)Self and You.
I was your guardian angel
I was a highly achieved cop
Maybe. Maybe I was diseased
It started small, I may of shoved
It felt good, that rush of power
Smile. A real smile on a driven face
My last time. Was- is my last time
I needed comfort at night, blame me?
My job had no justice some nights
Whore. Bloody drugged up whore.
Death wasn't noticed, nor hers
So I did some more, blame me?
I kept your streets clean still then
A night shift. I kept your streets clean.
Headaches forming, blame me?
I had a tumour, ugly nasty thing
She was a beautiful doctor
Not like the others, so clean,
Innocent, but brought bad news
Her death felt better. Better.
I was gone then. I don't remember.
I survived that first night search
I had knowledge and I know
I won't be caught. Ever caught.
Where is the rage tumours bring?
Blame blame blame, do you blame me?
It is with the Justice.
-
Disorders resulting from metabolic or neurologic dysfunction can cause violent behavior.
Common causes include epilepsy, brain tumor, encephalitis, head injury, endocrine disorders, metabolic disorders
(such as uremia and calcium imbalance), and severe physical trauma.
Blame some?
-http://wrongdiagnosis.com/p/psychosis/causes.htm
Dirt
March 8, 08
Speed up time, for the flower
Let it bloom, and not wane
Speed up time, for the flower
Let it flourish, and not fade
As it marks her grave
Innocence can never last, anymore
Wanting to leave-The destruction
Behind.
And even the thunder cannot mask
The sirens blaring in the night
All the time.
Don’t give up now, time what we need
Don’t believe hope is gone
In life.
I know the truth, don’t think I don’t
To have one, there must be both
Death and Beauty
Speed up time, for the flower
Let it bloom, and not wane
Speed up time, for the flower
Let it flourish, and not fade
As it marks her grave
*
Unfortunately, Time is out.
And we cannot pick up grains of sand
When they have fallen
Wasted that time, and the flower burned
In acid rain,
Unfortunately.
Speed up time, for the flower
Let it bloom, and not wane
Speed up time, for the flower
Let it flourish, and not fade
As it marks her grave
Innocence can never last, anymore
Wanting to leave-The destruction
Behind.
And even the thunder cannot mask
The sirens blaring in the night
All the time.
Don’t give up now, time what we need
Don’t believe hope is gone
In life.
I know the truth, don’t think I don’t
To have one, there must be both
Death and Beauty
Speed up time, for the flower
Let it bloom, and not wane
Speed up time, for the flower
Let it flourish, and not fade
As it marks her grave
*
Unfortunately, Time is out.
And we cannot pick up grains of sand
When they have fallen
Wasted that time, and the flower burned
In acid rain,
Unfortunately.
All I swore I am
March 26, 08
Reeds and burning grass bend down in-
Satanic devotion-
By winds of my fanatical and deprived emotions,
Goddess Sun is spilling her tears upon us-
Crying, ‘Mother Lamb,’-
Slew in mortal battles in weapons of teeth,
Killing the beginning, rooting up Willow-
Burning sap of life-
Trying to get high-
Bark dying, stripping our desires so we
Lay naked, despicable sinned Adam and Eve.
Sleeping in hate-
Nightmares awake-
Leaves are changing falling down-
Within ourselves-
We drink up our own souls with greed,
Poisoned clear, like ecstasy, rain down-
Clean and clear-
As clean as tree boughs marked in cross fixation
-- Explanation
For the over all theme, it is the dying of people, of nature, how we are overall killing ourselves, and the nature.
”Reeds and burning grass bend down in-
Satanic devotion-
By winds of my fanatical deprived emotions,”
--We are killing the people, the nature, by crazy no back up emotions, just our own insanity, no point, no reason "fanatical deprived emotions"
”Goddess Sun is spilling her tears upon us-
Crying, ‘Mother Lamb,’-
Slew in mortal battles in weapons of teeth,”
--Sun is spilling her tears, goddess, for the destructions seen, ‘Mother Lamb’ is another word for
"She Who Birthed The World-And From Her Love and Joy came Man" Sorta like story if you see.
"Slew in mortal battles in weapons of teeth," is just the reference of the brutality of humans, the sheer no mercy
(weapons of teeth) seeing as we think of teeth as a crude way of violence. And mortal battles, yes well is people.
”Killing the beginning, rooting up Willow-
Burning sap of life-
Trying to get high-
Bark dying, stripping our desires so we
Lay naked, despicable sinned Adam and Eve.
Sleeping in hate-
Nightmares awake-”
--Killing the beginning is just reference to our destroying ourselves, to the very core.
The willow is just because of the tree's well known-ness. Sap, just keeping up the tree,
burning and trying to get high is two things: High for one of placing ourselves as such holy people,
as if we control; and also of the stupidity that comes with being intoxicated 'high'.
Bark dying is keeping up with the tree, stripping away our desires of a pure world, protected (like bark protects the tree)
and I say a Adam and Eve sinned more because of now they do not lie naked (as the Christian story tells)
in innocence and unknowing, but in lust and adulterous sin. The next two lines just help imagine that.
“Leaves are changing falling down-
Within ourselves-
We drink up our own souls with greed,”
--Leaves are changing is mentioning the cycle, how we are falling down in it, and how ultimately, keeping on we destroy ourselves
”Poisoned clear, like ecstasy, rain down-
Clean and clear-
As clean as tree boughs marked in cross fixation”
--The poison is clear, because...we cannot see it. Or most don't. So chosen to be blind
And ecstasy is mere mention of the dangerousness, and also how ecstasy is so...I hate to say,
but normal in knowledge of its use, that it almost doesn't carry the slur it should anymore. Hence the line "clean and clear"
I have as clean as the boughs marked in cross fixation because I wanted to use the word bough keeping the tree form,
nature. And cross is merely mention how we do this in the name of humanity...not necessarily for the religious point.
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