…and in the end
I could hardly think
I could hardly spend time walking
Late at night
Without a thought
Rummaging through my mind
Shifting from
Left to right
Shaking
Ignoring
Whimpering at all lost kisses
Lost thoughts
Instances of connection
That could have lasted
Had I not been
Lost in my own thoughts
Forgetting
About leftover madness
For who then
Should I say
Goodnight
Tag: madness
Dosages of Love (day 817)
Gypsy Queen I see you
Floating there in your sheen
It’s bogus here this madness
Dazzling as you sing
I’ve splendor-ed into gladness
Hoping as I pray
Fantasy at its finest
Goldens and their boldness
Perfect fluttering delicateness
You’ve cried for much too long
Did you whisper mildly?
I couldn’t muster up the gumption
To take you into lust
But long it lasted when we held
Onto the shackles of flirtation
Did you delight as much as I
I hope it was as dashing
Enchanted as we’ve just met
Forsake me for all I’m worth
She’s Cheeky (day 754)
She’s cheeky
She tells me to stop
That poetry is dead
ALL POETS MUST DIE
She yells in caps lock
I lament and dig
Into the bowels
Of my horror
Of my rhythmical
Regurgitating madness
To give reason
For my exploration
These darkened spaces
These sappy ballads
My arching expressions
Into confusions womb
Like battle scars
Pocking my being;
Unsettling patrons
Horrifying relations
Yet I try
I push out my heart
Bleed it upon death
Illuminated pixels
Spare tablets
Leftover envelopes
And just push play
Snuffed out Heroes (day 747)
Today is a day of death and decay
A day for clouds to turn charcoal black
Formulating their madness into darker and darker circles
About my countenance as it sinks beneath consciousness
Downward into the madness you’ve created
With sweeping strokes in sharpened blades
Cutting down weak thoughts and planting black seeds
Heavy hands that compress all that floats
All that is magic and which once had life
Heavy hands that suppress the screams
Snuffing out the heroes in unsaintly martyrdom
She’s Madness (day 727)
She’s sweetheart
A thousand shades of love
Mixed with a crimson alert beacon
Signalling the end of a search
She’s madness
In peaceful laughter
Hovering around angelic
And gold spots in the sun
She’s all love
Like rainbows and
Puddles of fun
Splashing this way and that
She’s warmth
Lying on the sandy beaches
In the mid-summer heat
Floating off into sleep
She’s a tight turn
Whipping that tail around
Splashing white caps
In her hips and her toes
She’s magic
Allusions in wands
With a pot full of potions
And the power to possess
Drained and Bled (day 722)
Refined the madness will walk away
At seasons end to sell your hay
Share the sun, enjoy each day
But don’t get lost along the way
Then if the last straw be drawn
Finding you left standing on the lawn
No goods leftover to be pawned
It will be sorrow; all sun be gone
It’s known it’s fearful inside this head
Laughter spinning around the bed
The makeshift scarecrow: no wit, dead
No roof to shelter, no home to stead
But not all’s lost when wits have fled
A lone wild grouse found and bled
Enough to feed and safely tread
At least for a little while, to ease the dread
Furrows Edge (day 689)
When we walk upon thin strips
Of new light cresting upon a fresh day
It is safe to allow ourselves to dream
To breathe deep the subtle air
Awakening sleeping surroundings
While developing the onslaught of madness
That shall soon take shape
Upon the brow of furrows edge
Pulsating Crimson (day 683)
Destruction pulls at my madness
With steam whistles and ten year old phone books
Pages loved so much they’re retreating
While the tune of rapidly moving music
Pulsates a crimson so pure my eyes turn bold
I pour myself a glass of that ruby no label
Found deep within the dusty shelves
Of fathers favorite medicine cabinet
Sit down on the ol’ family rocking lounger
And fixate on the blinking screen
Laughing defeat into my already raging desire
Run Like Thee (day 641)
Listen locked up troubadour
I’ve had just about enough from you
Flat tones with hardly any decibel
What part of the unwritten story
Didn’t you read?
Weren’t you just a little bit stunned
When the little Draculas
Began roaming these cliffs
On the cold nights
The windy nights
Where out in the distances
Witches are heard
Cooking up their recipe
Madness with glee
Forever is the preciousness
Longing is the game
Put forth a valiant effort
And you shall not run like thee
You see
Troubadours and lab technicians
All united; a singular cause
Pulled into the parking lot
Brushed away the wild sea
Battled the neckerswaps
And unscrewed the top
Crossed the great yellow barrier
By walking in through that door
The market was ahead of them
It awaited there lovely wallets
Where they stared in all it’s preciousness
In glitter and in shine
And you shall not run like thee
You see
Pulling away from the parking lots
Mad hatters and tea sets
Blinded by ammunition
The Troubadour and his silent friend
Set out for sea
Bleeding through darkness
Into night
Peddling for fire starter
Drinking whiskey for the cold
Laughing at all glorious things
As wheels of giant steel spun
You shall not run like thee
You see
Past moons and past reefs
The cold sea lay in splashing
Madness settled over mortals
Hell welcomed in
Demons and rat infested decks
Lay crawling amongst eyes of stranded
Bitterly washing away stains
Laid down by the blood of another man
Coveting distant targets
Booty unheard of, unfound
And you shall not run like thee
You see
Reaching the distant lands
With the devil at their backs
Reeling from sheer horror
Exotic bazaars and neon lights
Collector man watched his pray
As the Troubadour and his friends
Circled the shore
Marching two by two
Their prize lay in the hands of a king
Bloodshed played over widowers
Death lay the victim asleep
Washed over with a thin black veil
With a light shower of diamonds
The King was laid below
And you shall not run like thee
For thee has run too long
Over distant mountain tops
Into far off valleys
Soaring across blue skies
Crumbling foreign castles to their demise
Fair haired spoils
Fruits of hard labour
You see
You shall not run like thee
Black masks and pony tales
Sidekicks and sport goggles
Ripped jeans and too good hats
Curly hair and bending knees
Diamonds in these eyes you see
It is over for you thin man
I see you standing there
Troubadour in your madness
You shall not run like thee
Hallow’d be Thy Casting Stone (day 633)
Love crawled away
And I said safe
Time stretched our touches
And I said delay
Why don’t soldiers of fortune
Get the last wrecking ball
Make last what you love, man
Make last what you love
Perhaps bothered angels
Floated down to touch sin
Leftover madness
Is tomorrow head’n in
Bothered be laughter
Set out in stone
Hallow’d be thy casting stone
Full may its splash be charged