Category: madness

Resonant Romance (day 2173)

ned Leave a comment

You’ve become the edge of resonance
Reason I’ve forgot my chance
I’ve begged you once before
Now I’ll scratch down that door
Original seduction going on
Through and through my veins
Dancing down a hall of reverence
This is a heart attack, baby
This is our last romance.

So you sat there guiding me home
From the head, a Priestess’ chair
Booming towards climax on
A loudspeaker of ancient worship
Cold stones on my wishing knees
Like a glass of white wine
Condensation on my mind
And the moon breaks through calmly
Resonating through halls of a silent home.

Window Drops (day 2171)

ned Leave a comment

Along the ways of window drops
A bird flew out the nest
Cloud came to my very door
And my hair lay flattened down.
Yet every signal
East be at it’s back
Signaled me to rise above
What midnight I had not looked back.
Nor did my animosity
Rumble to a stop
A grinding halting dusty jalopy
My chariot of grim time.
True, each dirt splash lay bare
The deeper grit of sand
Which held my flower to my nose
Thus, bow down low I dearly bade.

Overturned (day 2157)

ned Leave a comment

Holding on to a memory
Like a rainy afternoon
Through a window.
An oblique vase casts
Two shadows upon its inanimate post:
One small shadow from the heavily diffused daylight,
The other, much larger
From the pulsating heart
Laid bare upon the table.
Heavy splatters pointing fingers
In every direction
And a wooden chair sits overturned,
Too cold to stoke the fire.

The Wedding (day 2156)

ned Leave a comment

I want to have a terribly sad wedding
The saddest wedding of all
Where all the guests dress in black
And music will be sombre
Leading many attendees to tears.
I want the food to evoke heartbreak
And the clouds to be forever ominous
Dead midwinter grays will be everywhere
The roses will be dried
And their stems quick to draw blood
With fires burning and candlesticks
That attracts gazes of lost reverie.
I will have guests
Sign their names in blood
And a butler will be there to request it
With orders not to ever smile.
Each place will be set
With Gothic cutlery
And matching black napkins
Folded in a melancholy way.
I want an organ to hold a single chord
For the entire evening
An omnipresent chord
That each song will be tuned to
Maybe a D melodic minor
Or a F flat diminished 7th.
And on my wedding day just so
There will only be one person
Standing at the alter
It will be the pastor
Of an unimaginably vague faith
Whom nobody will know
And nobody will greet
And nobody will listen to his words
For they will blend right in
With the grumbling organ
In the key of terribly sad.
I will watch the whole preceding
Not greeting a single guest
Feom my perch high up
A balcony through my vaulted windows
Of my cold stone house
And there I will sit
Surrounded by ghosts
That I forgot to invite
To my terribly sad wedding
And sitting close by
Without a smile on her face
Will be love for the rest of my life.

Hot Rocket (day 2133)

ned Leave a comment

Call it what it is
On a gold line to Maine
Like a hot rocket lit.

You know where you’re going
It ain’t no cruel plan
Pick up where you left off.

Hold strong to live strong
Believe what you do know
Getting in to it to get lost.

Sell it all away
It had it’s day yesterday
Ran out of what to say.

My red line is feeling fine
Horizon line slipping by
Call it what it is.

Winter, Run Over Me (day 2121)

ned Leave a comment

Winter, where have you gone from me
Lost in the great thaw
Confusion melting all around
From your serene gentle cold heart
Keep me in a catacomb
A maze under the permafrost.

Winter, I remember days gone by
My mind shifts North: cloudy sky
Priceless antidote
Boiled water in a kettle old
Dried leaves in a mounding heart
Run over me, lost to darkness.

A Little Mouse (day 2117)

ned Leave a comment

As if in the ransack of time a little mouse could foresee such a circumstance, little unbeknownst to him and his furry paws scuttling to and fro about the forest floor – roots for here and roots for there, but left in a random mess that danced like bliss – as the owl hooted loud the shakey graves below the folly could tell ten thousand stories of arching madness and screaming terror; look out look out look out my friend, I have not come to be thy penance, no, I am here to hold thy candle brighter, to make thy night much less weirder, to the side of willow river and make a dart into thy deepened hole of safety and say to thy family you love them better and listen to your little mice that complain of washing and complain of chores but lead your life as you best can for times will come and leave you better beside the river and your cavern and your pretty mice wife, hither.