Sunday, November 30, 2008

Untitled woodland number

And I've walked the darkened woods
And heard the shadows speak
Seen them twist and contort
Through different shades of night

I've seen violence in the girl
And pity in the man
Fingers outstretched
Like the desperate,
Brittle limbs

They crave the cold and dark
The bite of winter's frost
Shades of grey
Shades of gloom
Far removed of warmth
The flowers have no bloom
No existence

And in the fading sun's light
I wonder if the shadow
Walking beside me
Is that of my own
Or if it has a companion,
A woman never there,
To brave the unfamiliarity
Of this stark forest
Where the vibrant reds and oranges
Lay their final rest
On dirt-ridden paths

Is anything as it
Truly seems
In this forest of
The dead trees?

Friday, November 14, 2008

A Dream (Cathedral)

What is this dark figure
Which stands before me?

Ominous and black,
But vibrant hues
In its hind

A building,
A church?
Ruins of praise?
Why do you stand before me?
Why appear in my mind?
What message do you tell?
What point to convey?

Your glass is stained
Reds and greens and blues
Otherwise, I don't
Make much of you

Black and tall
Sinister brick
A bell tower,
As water drips
Through the aqueducts
Through the gutters
Into the streets
Rained down from Heaven
The clouds that approach nigh
Behind this foreboding building
This menacing figure

What do you say?
What is your symbol?
What do you mean??


[Yes, I know I fucked something up the first time. Don't worry.

Recurring dreams..]

Thursday, November 13, 2008

A Love Song, A Ghost Story (cont.)

Breath is stolen
And the tension builds
Oh, baby
Yours is the kind of love
That kills

What is a ghost?
A tear that falls to open palm?
Drifting melodies writ in song?
A familiar voice heard in a crowd?
Mem'ries familiar, kept in shroud..

No exact answers
No right or wrong
It's different for everyone
But they come along

They come and go
As they choose
They come and go
As ghosts do

Is it real?
Is it true?
Neither option
Matters much
To you...

Breath is stolen
And the tension builds
Oh, darling
Yours is the kind of love
That kills


(almost there...)

Friday, November 7, 2008


If I don't update this thing too quickly. As you probably noticed, most of my writing isn't entirely complete (one of the reasons I ask you not to jack anything from here just yet, at least). I start up one, and move onto an unfinished verse in another.

Rest assured, though: I'm still going to post things in here, periodically.

Just wanted to start it off with a bang.


[More later]