#metaphorest

Each trial is a test

Constant recalibration

I am recycled cells

I learn to like myself

more with each iteration

Where is my restore point?

I found an old sore point

All disjointed

My file corrupted

Where is my replacement part?

I need another new heart

The other one’s beat was

Interrupted

I am recycled cells

I learn to like myself

more with each iteration

“Breaking Point” by Metaphorest

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Doorstopper’s (Guest Curator) Featured Comment: “Even Metaphorest’s 'unfinished’ songs knock me off my feet. An effortlessly crafted song about pressure and frustration, with people stuck in their lives wanting more, but unsure how to get it.The song doesn’t take either side and simply observes the struggles going on around us. Looking in on several different lives, all connected. It is a beautiful song that gives me goosebumps every time I hear it. Song writing in it’s finest form. Give it a listen.”

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I just finished watching Lord of Tears, and it was surprisingly good. There were a few scenes (the dance scene, the bed scene at the end, and the basement scenes) that could have afforded to be shorter without losing anything to the story. However, what it does well, it does really well. It builds the dread very slowly, and doesn’t show its hand too early, and the little seeds that are planted throughout the film have a very delicious fruition. 

But really one of the best things about it was the music. I especially liked the entire setup and execution of the scene that this song was playing over. Really all of the Metaphorest tracks in the film were excellent. But also the incidental music, really frequently, reminded me of Garry Schyman’s Bioshock scores.

Proof (Weekly Writing Challenge - Week 2) by Metaphorest

Each day she dies a little death

In some new city

Motel, hotel, suitcase-living

Skyscraper nomad

Every chain the same

Executive desk & bedside lamp

Green-light keycard swipe

And corridor revellers - 3am

The novelty of tiny toiletries

Has long worn thin

The drone of every bathroom fan

A traveller's tragic overture

Room service over-priced

And unsatisfying

Eaten awkwardly

On a bed for two

Badly dubbed TV shows

The familiar unravelled

Like waking up to parents

With new faces

Midnight, each night

She takes a photo

Of her own reflection

Some scant proof of her existence

But there's nothing irrefutable

About a digital image

Nothing solid she could stand behind

And state as evidence

A copy of a copy of herself

Untethered, floating

Just a ghost

Bleeding city lights

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tori (Text & Video Curator) Featured Comment: "I really love how this is written, Sarah, and it fits Marie Bee's picture so well - you really captured the feel of the photo. The rhythm of the poem is unusual and fun to read out loud - staccoto-esque in places with the mixing of vowel sounds ("suitcase living / skyscraper nomad" is delightfully tongue-twisting) but the well-placed rhymes and longer lines really keep the reader on their toes. The way that it's written reflects the mix of frustration, emptiness and repetition within the life of the girl - really well done."

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Sleep, my little darling, and your wishes will come true Sleep, my little baby I will watch over you Dream away the darkness, darling dream away the fears And when you wake, my sweetness, you know I'll be waiting here for you

And when the nightmare shakes you, I will wake you from your dream It seems so real