Amateur artist and person

#Start In her place, Hundred candles keep burning, Glistening, Salty sweat drips, Down her breast; While, Her hips move, And I feel what they’re saying, Swaying. The beast is coming, stalking. Lipstick stains on her glass, Of red wine; I am your servant, Shall I pour your another glass, Smooth lips sing to me, Of white lies and false promises, Praying. the beast is coming,…

A poem where I try to cross cyberpunk and Alice in Wonderland

Note: Today’s a cyberpunk cross of Alice and something else. #Start Tick-Tock! Verses of Crystal lattice lie in between disparate quartz-time ever so mean. Tick-Tock! Shelter found only ensconced in Stranger’s dreams where hunters prowl for flesh, data and plenty screams. Tick-Tock! Go ask Alice when she’s howling for her wandering head when the caterpillar with his hookah wishes you…

#Start Ain’t got no money Ain’t no rich man’s son Ain’t nowhere to run In the depths of the Astral Ocean We toil away in the dark reaches From the dawn to the dusk Debt slaves we all Waiting for salvation We kill the flame. #End

#Start If Yours is the glory, Then mine is the shame; A million candles lit in Your Holy Name, Cries for help that never will come; Every transgression and dark crime, Sanctified in Your Holy Name; Vilified, I did not know I needed permission, To live and to breathe; Only limitations remain, that is the rule, Every joy a sin in Your every command; Here I am, on my knees, Here I am,…

#Start When the truth is gone, And all turns to lies, Not much better than to be lost; And all of the Garden Flowers are dead, And only the rot remains; When facts of the matter, Ever so faintly filling, Seem to taste like sand in your mouth; And when the joy within you dies, Leaving only those tears down your breast; Wouldn’t you love somebody to love? #End

Poem 315 Twisted Dream

#Start I dream of bodies sprawled in the end endless dark, Of pink innards and the gleaming sick rot, Gaping, eyes wide open in abject morbid charm, Dead men’s grins abound, mocking the living smile, Chasing away the shades of the bored, Burn on skewers, fat sizzling past, Into orbs of twisted desires, lies for the mind, Twisted broken and wholly worn out. #End

#Start Lean ever so gentle on the hourglass, upon cool polished wood and frost-etched glass, Lay down one’s worries and troubled hearts, Watch as the lonesome grain of sand drops, Gently, softly as a feather in air, time flowing past, unceasing in stride, what remains then when the final grain of sand falls? No permanence, no end, only the flow, Turn again, turn again and the sand drops…

Poet’s Note: I\m back as usual at the fag end of the year once again. I’ll speak why i wasn’t here later. for now, please read, dear persistent reader #Start In the magic cove, There’s a pretty woman, Wonder why she glows? Ask her where it goes, Underwater, and that’s the way it goes, In a spinning moment, Slipping into waves, At this very moment, Enter at once, To the pretty…

Poet’s Note: I was feeling a little whisical and childish, so here’s a poem on being a zombie. Not much else to say really excep thank you for the support these past few days. It’s truly overwhelming. Thank you. #Start Sun is burning in the dark of the night, Zombie, he walkin’ in the broad daylight, Zombie, he done lost his soul, Zombie, he never going to get old; Lord of Darkness, king of…

Poet’s Note: Gotta dash, so quick poem of somthing that was tumbling in that noggin of mine. #Start Here she comes, She of the bare feet, Gently soaring over the deep waters, Nary a ripple or a sigh, No breath, no sound or whisper, Only the immaculate silence; She goes to the houses grey, Bearing no gifts, no charms or arms, Alone and only herself she brings; Meet the guests of the…

Poem #309 Long Ago

Poet’s Note: This like all of the others is kind of more experimental than not. Still, I hope you enjoy this. I’ve been trying my hand at a narrative experience kind of thing, I hope you’ve noticed. and I hope that its been improving as I write. So here’s to hoping all of that works out. #Start It seems quite so long ago, I dreamt of a stranger, all decked in ebon, unknown to both land and…

Poet’s Note: I’m late today. To be honest a little less because I was in a rush and more because I spent whole hours playing a new video game. It’s a hybrid top-down shooter with RTS and 4X elements. Honestly I could gush about games, any games forever but this is for the poem. As with most of my messy ones, this too is more cathartic than not. It’s how most days feel when I’m not drowning in…

#Start there’s a, lonesome, lady in the sacred lake; she visits me from day to day, tiny hands caress so gently, taking me to the other place, beyond the far shore, call my name! there’s a, hollow, wan, sky-piercing tree, with razor leaves so fine; she climbs inside, where the crawling bugs hide, I cannot follow there, even if I tried, the queen stands in contempt, for I’ve…

Poem #306 Blank Page

Poet’s Note: As usual, I’ve missed a few days of posts due to the weekend. Truth be told, weekends are my most stressful and busiest days of my week. It’s not due to work though. Regardless, this poem’s slightly older and thus if there is a sense of dissonance, forgive me and the passage of time. #Start Songs always made sense to me, Even in midst of losing my self, I would write it all…

Poem #305 Dream-‘me’

Poet’s Note: Some times it feels that people, especially the ones that are really close to me can’t see who I am for the ‘idea’ that they have of me. It’s been hard to keep going regardless of that. I wonder though, even if what they like is merely an aspect of myself, isn’t that alright? After all, that too is a part of me in the end. #Start Will you walk over tumultuous waters? Or turn water…

Poem #304 Do I disappoint you?

Poet’s Note: Well, this was smallish poem that branched into a few other poems. So if you see that the lines seem familiar, you’re not dreaming, they really are repeating. #Start Do I disappoint you? Even as I turn into shimmering dust; Canst you hold me once? We cannot hold, we cannot stay; In caverns carved out of our hubris, We wither into dreaming echoes. #End

Poet’s Note: Well, I was working on one poem’s fragments when this came out of it. Of course I’m still working on that poem but this one’s complete. The last line however are pure homage to the wonderful lyrics and music of Florence Welch from Florence + the Machine. Nothing much else to say my dear readers. See you tomorrow. #Start Did you miss me? Or Did you miss the destroying and the…