[x]

AstrologicalI have lost myself to
Venus & Mars,
tangled in their mismatched limbs.

Just dream dust & shattered prayers
begging for a new set of skin
(she can't remember where she orbits).

Pluck these fractured wings;
the Sun & Moon no longer ache
to see me fly in their luster.

lies, she wrotei. just a mimicry, really;
uncompromisingly
desperate to shine.

ii. counterfeit & clockwise,
tasting words on her
unworthy tongue.

iii. with a dysfunctional mind
& apocryphal dictionary,
she cannot clone it all.

iv. "say anything," the pen
whispers as she trembles
among ink-scented fraudulence.

v. but she just laughs & plays the part,
forgetting what the pages told her:
"truth is stranger than fiction."

The Pen, The SwordJust lovely
I was happy to fall asleep
in the welcoming arms of your words and
you were unaware that you held me
so close, and so carefully
from the moment I didn't hear you speak
to the taste of every sentence you spoke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been seeking all along
Just barely
I was loathe to fall so deep
in the sharpened edges of your words and
you were too aware that you had me
so close, and so carelessly
from the second I heard you break
to the taste of every sentence you broke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been avoiding all along

Death of the PoetDear poetry,
This is your challenge,
my eternal chore,
to restate the truth
like never before-
but I’m imperfect
at my very core
and hypocrisy
is what I abhor
so you may expect
my work to be poor
enough for me to
be crushed into gore
with failed attempts
to take wing and soar
when all I wanted
was something much more
than emptiness and
inherited war
and pointless details
of imagined lore
which most of us tend
to simply ignore
at the piercing sound
of a lion’s roar
or the convenience
of a nearby store…
what am I truly
writing these words for?
Let’s merely pretend
that this isn’t me
but the voice of God
or L. Ron Hubbard
or whoever you
wish for it to be
since facts remain facts
no matter the source,
no matter the cause,
since the trustworthy
are also humans
prone to failure;
so prone to a fault
that we hold dearly-
the sum of our faith
measured in dollars-
rewarded by credit
and paper money…
for some odd reason
I find this funny!
So I conclude

False EternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days,
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.
Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!
Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for the moon
then sought the horizon, again and again warned my father that doom
would befall him if he didn't seek a better way to live and be
I wasn't willing to follow the dark and deadly rules,
trying to bring some light into the lives of these fools.
Guilds of anti-gods were formed, wars rose higher, nothing to atone!
They all represen

ArrheniusThe birds are
keeping to themselves
this evening
as the earth shifts
slightly-
ever so calmly
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have
to move).

Here and there, I
witness these
beautiful strangers
with perfect bodies
and long hair
walking down the road
in tightly knitted packs.
They are animals
like we are animals-
like we are
animals without
claws and fur,
with scratches on our
skin that yields to
fragile and
familiar hands.

The winds respond
as quiet birds rush
from telephone wires
in panic and
in beauty; she
tries to brush the hair
dancing circles in her eyes
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have to move).

False ProphetsPoems and love songs breed dead dreams,
strangled by weeds, face down in the ground
with no roses to mourn them.

Singers are poets that croon
(if you happen to lose your little heart to their tune)
and poets are false prophets -
true love will last forever
if they care to write it,
but not if you swallow the lines...

yet, they always do.

We all have a place
set for us in the shade
in our own private garden of weeds.

Evolution of life

child, we dream
teenager, we have ideas
adult, we have a bar code encrusted in the nape

we evolve to finish in the matrix

False eternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days,
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant of the fact that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.

Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!

Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for

On The Collapse Of Modern Society"I've never seen so many folks
putting their hopes
in packaged air,
as far as I'm concerned,
and from what I've observed
misplacing material worth while
rushing back and forth
to get nowhere."
my Grandma said,
shaking her head.

Within A BoxIt's a prison for the minds of haunted souls
an odd prison, not large enough to contain its prisoners
and yet it encompasses every fiber of their being
in silent, silent spaces.
Haunted souls are searching for the key
there is no key, but they don't know any better
and what harm could it do? Hope is better than nothing
here's an unlocked open door for you.
Little trinkets haunt souls with their questions
and we want answers, but they won't give
anything away. Very smart,
you know the world is ending soon.
(The best of which are only
crude descriptions of the magic
they are looking for.)

VoicesDo you hear the moan of morning rhymes
By the people in their endless time
As the morning dew breaks the day
Back to where the city-lights once laid

The lamp-posts are filled with black starlight
As the children run in their flight
With cries of sorrow, cries of pain
The old houses creaking with disdain

Acidic puddles of blood-wet tears
Remain on the street through all these years
As the cracks have hid the crumbled dust
Within these roads of bone and rust

The melody of the birds is lost
To the screeches and screaming loss
There are people cowering in the dark
Murmuring, whispering their tortured remarks

Flames ignite the world in fire

Lovers and assassinsNight
walk

You're not living, you're survivingDo you know the difference between people and animals?
People and animals have a key difference,
People live,
Animals survive.

Don’t do anything without thinking
Because if you do,
You’re not living,
You’re surviving.

Don’t be without love
Because if you do,
You’re not living,
You’re surviving.

Don’t waste your time,
Because if you do,
You’re not living,
You’re surviving.

Don’t regret the past,
Because if you do,
You’re not living,
You’re surviving.

This life is so precious to just survive.
Human life is done for it to be lived.
Animal life is done for it to be surv

bad nightmy mistakes are on my head,
and the cigarettes taste like metal;
on the street curb of a suburban block,
the lights jaundiced and flickering
like drunken fireflies, your reflection
that emanates from me covers every face.

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Ochii Diavolului partea IPartea I

Se lumina afara. Zarile se transformau din negre in albastrui, si iti dadea acea senzatie, unica, de dimineata rece. Statusem treaza toata noaptea, intr’o stare de semi-constienta, intrebandu’ma daca dorm sau nu. Presupun ca dormeam, pentru ca te vedeam in oglinda, pe taburet, zambindu’mi…Sau oi fi fost acolo, deja nu mai stiu.

M’am trezit brusc, dupa un somn chinuit de multe vise si naluci. Primul meu gand a fost sa te sun, dar m’am trezit cu tine in fata portii, asteptand cuminte ca eu sa’mi deschid ochii si sa iti zaresc cearcanele vinetii.
-Tudor…
-Nu pot.
-Ce nu poti?
-Nu pot.

O Mare de DragosteZburai cu mine prin nopti reci de vara, in care ne tineam cald doar cu pielea…si Doamne, ce piele aurie, fina si…si de ce trebuie sa ma explic, cand pot sa iti arat?

Pot, stiu asta, pot sa iti arat ca nu numai pescarusii isi gasesc apartenenta, ca nu doar valurile sunt rebele, ca nu e necesar sa treaca mii de ani se transforme totul in nisip cald si umed…

M’am gandit la tine aseara. M’am gandit la ce frumos iti picurau stropii de apa sarata pe obrajii tai de piersica, la fel ca atunci cand plangi…Nu e nicio diferenta intre o lacrima si o picatura din mare, stiai asta? Nu, nu stiai, pentru ca numai eu iti gust l

Confesiuni MatinaleCafeaua e fierbinte si amara. Cam ca dragostea noastra. Tu dormi in aceeasi pozitie in care te’ai intins pe pat, extenuat dupa o partda infocata de amor. Probabil n’o sa iti mai amintesti mare lucru, erai beat. Doamne, si cat de beat erai, luasei si pastile…Nu credeam ca o sa te vad vreodata asa. Si pentru ce, Dumnezeule? Pentru un mesaj amarat? Nu’I vina mea ca nu stii sa’ti controlezi simturile….si simtamintele…Am zis ca vreau s’o rup cu tine, dar stii prea bine ca nu pot face asta.

Ce buze minunate ai…Stiai asta? Ai buzele pline, carnoase, numai bune de muscat si sarutat. Ah, si mainile tale&#

Bolnavi de Dragoste-Domnisoara Mara?
-Da, eu sunt.
-Sunteti asteptata de domnul doctor.

Se ridica si pasi in cabinet. I se paru destul de straniu decorul, cu mobila masiva tip baroc si doua oglinzi imense cu margini sculptate in lemn. Cabinetul avea o fereastra imensa, cu perdele “de prost gust”, conchise ea, prin care soarele varatic intra. Straniu, dar nu era cald, ei ii era de’a dreptul frig, si se intreba daca era doar o senzatie. Dar cel mai mult o frapau tablourile. In contrast cu mobila, tablourile erau suprarealiste, iar cel mai mult o fascina o pictura cu o lebada neagra zburand(da, zburand) pe un cer plumburiu.
-Sa inteleg ca va

RecidivaTudor.

Recidiva e numele meu. Cum pot sa rezum totul astfel incat sa intelegi? Nu mai suport trezia, pur si simplu o ignor si, mai rau, o alterez.

Si nu, nu e vorba de suicid, desi trebuie sa recunosc faptul ca m’am gandit de multe ori la asta. Dar sinuciderea nu are legatura cu trezia sau…in fine, stii ce vreau sa zic.

Si stii ce am constatat? O incetinire a reactiilor, o prelungire al lugubrului, o disparitie a dorintei. Daca ne vom mai impaca vreodata, ai intreba. Cred ca raspunsul este un nu…ba nu…un NU ferm…Ma cunosti prea bine, te cunosc si mai bine, dragostea s’a consumat deja sub ochii nostri.

Da, Tud

O noapte, doar o noapte...Si daca as renunta, oare ti’as putea spune nu? Si daca luna s’ar dizolva in venele noastre, am fi mai buni si am renunta la orgoliu?
***

Il vedeam cum venea spre mine. Mersul lui tipic, de’a dreptul incordat, de parca isi numara in minte fiecare pas. Oare isi numara pasii si cand calca peste mine? Mi’a zambit cand m’a vazut. A vrut sa ma ia in brate, insa l’am respins brutal. A ramas nedumerit.
-Ce s’a intamplat, Mara?
-Esti incredibil…
-S’a intamplat ca m’ai ignorat complet in ultimele noastre intrevederi, si acum te porti de parca nu s’a intamplat nimic.
-Si ce te’ai ast

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[x]

Eu cu mine si'un diavol

by ~SmokeStories, Jun 9, 2010, 9:29:04 AM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

Merg pe sarma ghimpata in drumul spre pieire
Si'mi duc crucea'n frunte, binecuvantat'am fost
De cine?
Cu ce scop?
Ca sa blestem cei saraci cu duhul
Ca sa'mi smulg carnea caci e prea ravnita
Sa ma transform din om in…
…
…
…
Ceasul inca mai ticaie enervant
Si'am intarziat la cafeaua cu diavolul.

Eu cu mine si'un diavolby ~SmokeStories

Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

_{Si mi'e pielea'nfrigurata}

Ihim.

*sesam-is-open Jun 12, 2010

Nu mai vreau sa spun... "Frumos"...."Minunat"!
Vreau sa spun doar ca in acesta minunata viata, fie ca recunoastem sau nu, macar o data toti bem o cafea cu diavolul, sau macar un ceai!
Trebuie sa publici!

Reply

~SmokeStories Jun 12, 2010 Hobbyist General Artist

multumesc mult....da, si eu vreau sa public...sa scap intai de facultate...apoi...om vedea...

Reply

*sesam-is-open Jun 12, 2010

Sper din tot sufletul sa ti se implineasca acest vis.

Reply

~impuls Jun 9, 2010

Asa arata un final!

Reply

~SmokeStories Jun 9, 2010 Hobbyist General Artist

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