This could be a long read, a collage of poetry over several years of my most serious relationship. Make of it what you will and forgive the naievty in places, most of it is very old!
SPOILERS! (Click to view)
I awake from another malaise too weak to argue back, I hear another stranger ringing the door bell, Life is a constant cycle of inhibitions ruined, I never thought I could feel this lost, I lie on my mattress and let the dirty euphoria steal me away, Pain is through, I don't need it anymore I only have to lie here naked, Ask nothing more of me, please, In the hot humid night the sweat is all that remains alive of me, Too scared to know how to feel like a human being.
(Cut)
I am the raven, who hasn’t fed for days, Looking anywhere for my next meal of heart and mind, These beady eyes watch the swan of beauty, Dissecting its tender flesh with my beak, Feasting its bleached skin over my own, The drop of pure blood on my feathers shows me I am alive, That I exist.
(Raven flies off in to the sky)
In my coffin with a glass roof I lie like Sleeping Beauty, Cold and pallid my skin stretched over my bones, A lame attempt at God’s creation, His image in imperfection, Handsome in the mirror, perhaps, the anti-thesis of life kisses me goodnight.
(Fall asleep in the coffin with glass roof as it is lowered into the ground)
Back to reality, to this portent I am no longer aware of, Flat on my back the ripples of numbness disappear, Even the sanctity of ignorance has left me, Figures, broken spindles for broken lives. Sketched in a wilderness my complexion drains,
(Fade out and in to new score, lies back on mattress)
My clawed hand reached out so fragile and deathly pale, “Please sir, give me your charity”, Rejected I, the ghost man, receded into my sallow skin That hung loosely from my bones, An opera of humanity in my nineteen short years. I am the ennui, I am the listlessness, I am the dissatisfaction that you feel, I am the nothingness, I am your inaction, You will only die alone with me in your mind, I am heroin(e) for the soul.
(Stairway in complete silhouette with figure standing at the base unsteady on their feet)
I climb the stairs in my home, The night has fallen, I think, and The household is silent, The black disquiet of the shadows follow me as I proceed With nought but care and posture Lest I descend to my death at the bottom of the very same stair.
From the cradle in the Earth I wished I could be like a feather, Floating down to the Aryan women and their children, A boon in the cap of a warrior, Decoration on the jewel hanging around her smooth neck, Yes, a feather so fair and weightless that it would be prized above all others.
Three days from salvation the wanderer rides free, He carries a swan under his gun Unaware Death is waiting for thee, Perched on the hanging willow He watches the traveller flee, Only three more sun downs Then his body belongs to Me.
(Back to real world, no resolution of time as nothing seems to have changed. Man gets up and heads out to the bathroom where washes in the sink.)
He gets dressed. A woman comes to the door, she is wearing a black knitted jumper with many holes in it. She is very pretty. She smiles and enters stage left.
The shabby fur lining my skin feels precious to her touch, The cure for the disease of indecision, My dilemma, your solution, Each mistake that breaks from my lips, You are now too clever for my simple tricks.
She makes him a cup of tea; she sits still as Man walks around the room.
The mandatory exercises calculated to pen In even the most juvenile brilliant holds her, A sober brainwashed fool living life so lightly, Rabbits hide as the hunter dies, A victims’ cry as the knife slides inside, The wound that she will never lose, My deadly edge designed to bruise.
Falter in the presence of a murdering mind, It is true I kill my self under no other sign. Her voice Maybe the child should fly, Supported and ignored, A young babe underdeveloped Finding pleasure in displeasure, This might be his last day alive, Days in the past he barely survived But through my love he is revived.
Man
I was left feeling hollow as my maker drew further away, He deserted me on this Earth amongst the trees and silence, An emptiness, The holocaust ends as humanity slowly fades out of bodily remains, The cancer has receded, we are no more.
Woman
As Icarus ascends to a new sun, he hides in a ice cave deep beneath the mountain, Divine courage lays bare our skin and bone as our weakness, Victims of the grains of sand passing in a jar, No time to reconfigure our means to secure who we are.
Man
By the third passage I am ready to welcome the fourth genial stroke, A lull of country and calm Before the breathtaking hurricane to come, Steeped in lust and anticipation I am glad of a companion. In my fairytales I saw an angel, She is the one who has brought sanity to me, She asks nothing in return Only that she is allowed to continue her good deeds, Who am I to stop her being free? I do not even know her name, Only that she wants to remain Here every day looking after me.
Woman
I lay my roots near his border, With no line of definition to oppose I allowed them to unfurl and enfold his landscape, A cry from nature sounded against his warped delight, I may be an eccentric fool but I feel a place here Inside his diorama, inside his troubles I am his saving grace, I fit into the intricacies and peculiarities that gestate under his skin, A significant statuette that he does not forget, He offers more in need than I have ever known.
Man
She holds my answers in her heart, If she died before me I would surely slip away, I never asked to bring a friend, in the words she tells me I drown, I pray that she will miss me When I die before her, She will never kiss me again.
Woman
I want to be desired, I want to be loved, I need his affection, I know he will never leave me, He hasn’t seen the hurt, He hasn’t seen the pain That I deny each day I pity him, History can no longer carry any blame.
Man moves behind her as she sits down. Here he moves her long black hair to one side and gently kisses her neck, she smiles and he whispers something into her ear. She reaches behind her and runs her hand through his long hair. Fade to black. Fade up and they lie holding each other on her bed. A simply furnished room, his head is on her breasts as she slowly strokes his head.
Woman
I might not have been To your private Hell But believe me I’ve had troubles of my own, A personal vendetta against the parts Of me that haven’t changed. Cramped all over, tongue tied, I need to break into that prison you’ve trapped inside, Someday you will let me save you, You are falling off of this ride, The edge is too close That I can’t bare the waiting.
Man
Involuntary spasms in Love and all the major truths are Reflective of a wasted life Neatly packed into A pretty pink suitcase. Send it away, Who can make your Estranged heart new? Pride of place your heartbeat takes In the hole without which We will end Before we ever wanted to.
Woman
Smoke and mirrors, His deceptions lie heavily on me, The ghost images that we try to save, Jarred improvisations of reality Fading slowly into dilutions of light, Ungraspable, unreal, He exists behind all boundaries Of my peripheries Giving substance to my waking world.
Man sits up and kisses her on the forehead before he leaves. He walks out through the front door and down the steps back to his own apartment. Here he sits cross-legged on the mattress in the middle of the small room.
(Voice of the internal)
My turn to see the King, I think he might kill me, Swathes of soldiery slain at my behest, Butchered by philistines On the pilgrimage to the non-believer land, I am not to blame this time, A scapegoat for all his troubles, My road to salvation runs as a labyrinth Fraught with uncertainty. He betrayed my loyalty, my piety, A boy drowned in a pastel brown canvas, I am in stillbirth, I have no momentum, I can trust my King no longer, Crushed and maimed I lie here In my rain swept gutter Watching my blood thin in The fast moving torrent.
Man
A parody of facsimile, I have only my face to call my own, My singular uniqueness, Everything else recycled, rehashed, Unoriginal and not mine, Just for something new I strive. This friend forced upon me Brings a new destination, Formed in displacement I robe and disrobe And the enchantment is cast. At the ceremony of our masters, My friend now weighty on my shoulders Hangs freely from my name. A bachelor of waste and freedom. I can be speculative on the future worth Of this newly coagulated bond. One of the betters now, No longer part of a low-grade mania, Being blooded and free of heritage I won’t live like these fools.
Woman
A slave of all the hurt you bring, Ignore the tear in my heart Because in your burden I try, Oblivious to infamy and dislike I do not pretend, There is no pretence to my existence here Other than deep, sincere love, A desire to again see the colour of your eyes.
Man
The pigment of rainbow in the water Runs like blood. It begins its mergence with the blackest pitch, The sea of darkness ebbs its viscous Waters over the red rum, Mingled streaks of hearts and spades. The birth of a killer in a little boy.
Woman
From an angel he was sired, Born a babe on the clouds surrounding essential paradise. Emperor of the tenth heaven, The gates coming so close but closed, Even studious faith has changed from the birth, Of God’s reflected light his eyes were formed, Piercing and luminous Like fire-flies on a clear Autumn night, From the shades of the arch-host His voice developed, Both sweet and tuneful yet with a power To tear bone and mountain from their roots. He is their son.
Man
I know I am human, Tied to this Earth, Strong with my hands and my heart, Forgiven and loved She strokes over my land, I only emulate the pain I cannot take. Enveloped within the swell, Riding through the nerves A tingle of tears, Even as I watch my self I don’t know Why I desire to disappear alone. The saliva dribbles from my chin, Sometime soon a new world order, I lick the pathways clean, Words cut onto paper, A scar underneath my skin.
Man begins to weep on his mattress. The eye holds a long still shot on his face. It doesn’t move. FADE OUT
I awake from another malaise too weak to argue back, I hear another stranger ringing the door bell, Life is a constant cycle of inhibitions ruined, I never thought I could feel this lost, I lie on my mattress and let the dirty euphoria steal me away, Pain is through, I don't need it anymore I only have to lie here naked, Ask nothing more of me, please, In the hot humid night the sweat is all that remains alive of me, Too scared to know how to feel like a human being.
(Cut)
I am the raven, who hasn’t fed for days, Looking anywhere for my next meal of heart and mind, These beady eyes watch the swan of beauty, Dissecting its tender flesh with my beak, Feasting its bleached skin over my own, The drop of pure blood on my feathers shows me I am alive, That I exist.
(Raven flies off in to the sky)
In my coffin with a glass roof I lie like Sleeping Beauty, Cold and pallid my skin stretched over my bones, A lame attempt at God’s creation, His image in imperfection, Handsome in the mirror, perhaps, the anti-thesis of life kisses me goodnight.
(Fall asleep in the coffin with glass roof as it is lowered into the ground)
Back to reality, to this portent I am no longer aware of, Flat on my back the ripples of numbness disappear, Even the sanctity of ignorance has left me, Figures, broken spindles for broken lives. Sketched in a wilderness my complexion drains,
(Fade out and in to new score, lies back on mattress)
My clawed hand reached out so fragile and deathly pale, “Please sir, give me your charity”, Rejected I, the ghost man, receded into my sallow skin That hung loosely from my bones, An opera of humanity in my nineteen short years. I am the ennui, I am the listlessness, I am the dissatisfaction that you feel, I am the nothingness, I am your inaction, You will only die alone with me in your mind, I am heroin(e) for the soul.
(Stairway in complete silhouette with figure standing at the base unsteady on their feet)
I climb the stairs in my home, The night has fallen, I think, and The household is silent, The black disquiet of the shadows follow me as I proceed With nought but care and posture Lest I descend to my death at the bottom of the very same stair.
From the cradle in the Earth I wished I could be like a feather, Floating down to the Aryan women and their children, A boon in the cap of a warrior, Decoration on the jewel hanging around her smooth neck, Yes, a feather so fair and weightless that it would be prized above all others.
Three days from salvation the wanderer rides free, He carries a swan under his gun Unaware Death is waiting for thee, Perched on the hanging willow He watches the traveller flee, Only three more sun downs Then his body belongs to Me.
(Back to real world, no resolution of time as nothing seems to have changed. Man gets up and heads out to the bathroom where washes in the sink.)
He gets dressed. A woman comes to the door, she is wearing a black knitted jumper with many holes in it. She is very pretty. She smiles and enters stage left.
The shabby fur lining my skin feels precious to her touch, The cure for the disease of indecision, My dilemma, your solution, Each mistake that breaks from my lips, You are now too clever for my simple tricks.
She makes him a cup of tea; she sits still as Man walks around the room.
The mandatory exercises calculated to pen In even the most juvenile brilliant holds her, A sober brainwashed fool living life so lightly, Rabbits hide as the hunter dies, A victims’ cry as the knife slides inside, The wound that she will never lose, My deadly edge designed to bruise.
Falter in the presence of a murdering mind, It is true I kill my self under no other sign. Her voice Maybe the child should fly, Supported and ignored, A young babe underdeveloped Finding pleasure in displeasure, This might be his last day alive, Days in the past he barely survived But through my love he is revived.
Man
I was left feeling hollow as my maker drew further away, He deserted me on this Earth amongst the trees and silence, An emptiness, The holocaust ends as humanity slowly fades out of bodily remains, The cancer has receded, we are no more.
Woman
As Icarus ascends to a new sun, he hides in a ice cave deep beneath the mountain, Divine courage lays bare our skin and bone as our weakness, Victims of the grains of sand passing in a jar, No time to reconfigure our means to secure who we are.
Man
By the third passage I am ready to welcome the fourth genial stroke, A lull of country and calm Before the breathtaking hurricane to come, Steeped in lust and anticipation I am glad of a companion. In my fairytales I saw an angel, She is the one who has brought sanity to me, She asks nothing in return Only that she is allowed to continue her good deeds, Who am I to stop her being free? I do not even know her name, Only that she wants to remain Here every day looking after me.
Woman
I lay my roots near his border, With no line of definition to oppose I allowed them to unfurl and enfold his landscape, A cry from nature sounded against his warped delight, I may be an eccentric fool but I feel a place here Inside his diorama, inside his troubles I am his saving grace, I fit into the intricacies and peculiarities that gestate under his skin, A significant statuette that he does not forget, He offers more in need than I have ever known.
Man
She holds my answers in her heart, If she died before me I would surely slip away, I never asked to bring a friend, in the words she tells me I drown, I pray that she will miss me When I die before her, She will never kiss me again.
Woman
I want to be desired, I want to be loved, I need his affection, I know he will never leave me, He hasn’t seen the hurt, He hasn’t seen the pain That I deny each day I pity him, History can no longer carry any blame.
Man moves behind her as she sits down. Here he moves her long black hair to one side and gently kisses her neck, she smiles and he whispers something into her ear. She reaches behind her and runs her hand through his long hair. Fade to black. Fade up and they lie holding each other on her bed. A simply furnished room, his head is on her breasts as she slowly strokes his head.
Woman
I might not have been To your private Hell But believe me I’ve had troubles of my own, A personal vendetta against the parts Of me that haven’t changed. Cramped all over, tongue tied, I need to break into that prison you’ve trapped inside, Someday you will let me save you, You are falling off of this ride, The edge is too close That I can’t bare the waiting.
Man
Involuntary spasms in Love and all the major truths are Reflective of a wasted life Neatly packed into A pretty pink suitcase. Send it away, Who can make your Estranged heart new? Pride of place your heartbeat takes In the hole without which We will end Before we ever wanted to.
Woman
Smoke and mirrors, His deceptions lie heavily on me, The ghost images that we try to save, Jarred improvisations of reality Fading slowly into dilutions of light, Ungraspable, unreal, He exists behind all boundaries Of my peripheries Giving substance to my waking world.
Man sits up and kisses her on the forehead before he leaves. He walks out through the front door and down the steps back to his own apartment. Here he sits cross-legged on the mattress in the middle of the small room.
(Voice of the internal)
My turn to see the King, I think he might kill me, Swathes of soldiery slain at my behest, Butchered by philistines On the pilgrimage to the non-believer land, I am not to blame this time, A scapegoat for all his troubles, My road to salvation runs as a labyrinth Fraught with uncertainty. He betrayed my loyalty, my piety, A boy drowned in a pastel brown canvas, I am in stillbirth, I have no momentum, I can trust my King no longer, Crushed and maimed I lie here In my rain swept gutter Watching my blood thin in The fast moving torrent.
Man
A parody of facsimile, I have only my face to call my own, My singular uniqueness, Everything else recycled, rehashed, Unoriginal and not mine, Just for something new I strive. This friend forced upon me Brings a new destination, Formed in displacement I robe and disrobe And the enchantment is cast. At the ceremony of our masters, My friend now weighty on my shoulders Hangs freely from my name. A bachelor of waste and freedom. I can be speculative on the future worth Of this newly coagulated bond. One of the betters now, No longer part of a low-grade mania, Being blooded and free of heritage I won’t live like these fools.
Woman
A slave of all the hurt you bring, Ignore the tear in my heart Because in your burden I try, Oblivious to infamy and dislike I do not pretend, There is no pretence to my existence here Other than deep, sincere love, A desire to again see the colour of your eyes.
Man
The pigment of rainbow in the water Runs like blood. It begins its mergence with the blackest pitch, The sea of darkness ebbs its viscous Waters over the red rum, Mingled streaks of hearts and spades. The birth of a killer in a little boy.
Woman
From an angel he was sired, Born a babe on the clouds surrounding essential paradise. Emperor of the tenth heaven, The gates coming so close but closed, Even studious faith has changed from the birth, Of God’s reflected light his eyes were formed, Piercing and luminous Like fire-flies on a clear Autumn night, From the shades of the arch-host His voice developed, Both sweet and tuneful yet with a power To tear bone and mountain from their roots. He is their son.
Man
I know I am human, Tied to this Earth, Strong with my hands and my heart, Forgiven and loved She strokes over my land, I only emulate the pain I cannot take. Enveloped within the swell, Riding through the nerves A tingle of tears, Even as I watch my self I don’t know Why I desire to disappear alone. The saliva dribbles from my chin, Sometime soon a new world order, I lick the pathways clean, Words cut onto paper, A scar underneath my skin.
Man begins to weep on his mattress. The eye holds a long still shot on his face. It doesn’t move. FADE OUT
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
y:
Allusive 
Maybe too much. Feels like something that's had bits cut out to make it fit into something. Needs to be more drawn out, for me, more specific. But that's maybe not the point of it, yes?
Maybe too much. Feels like something that's had bits cut out to make it fit into something. Needs to be more drawn out, for me, more specific. But that's maybe not the point of it, yes?
huck:
worst. comedown. ever. 
my perception of colour is noticably diminished. i shit you not.
my perception of colour is noticably diminished. i shit you not.