Gift Of The Demiurge (The Boy With The Phoenix Tattoo)

•October 26, 2015 • Leave a Comment

“But he grew old–

This knight so bold–

And o’er his heart a shadow–

Fell as he found

No spot of ground

That looked like Eldorado.”

-Edgar Allan Poe

The foghorn moans so mournful and loud,

Like a mechanical Poseidon.

I’m lost in a sea of faces,

At a banquet prepared for nobody.

I’m blowing formaldehyde-tainted breath,

To keep the hungry flies away,

While stuck somewhere I was never meant to be–

Robotically waiting on something precious,

That’ll never satisfy.

Just another empty promise to myself,

That tomorrow I’ll find my way back home–

Knowing full well that tomorrow is just another someday,

And someday never comes.

You know I’ve always said to live now,

And suffer later.

There are no churches on 13th Street,

You won’t find God under the freeway.

If Christ or Buddha or the One True King returned,

Would we even recognize him?

A dope sick angel sang in the subway,

Her voice penetrated the shadow and sin.

Her words spoke of coming down to unknown depths,

And remembering all the high places we’ve been.

I found Jesus panhandling in front of the 7-11.

We talked of why all the men smoke cigarettes,

And all the women smell like heaven.

He told me “Heaven is only as real as your love for me,

And neither could I ever grasp.

History and hell both repeat themselves,

Until you get over the past.”

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Voiceless Part IV: Freedom’s End by Jesse Stonefield

•October 22, 2015 • Leave a Comment

“Who I am is not important. Today is about you, not me.” -Jodey

I used to try to hide my cigarette while sitting by your side.

I let you use my T-shirt while soaking in the dripping end of night.

All the burn holes in my heart remind me of your eyes,

But I could always still face you freely ’cause I really thought you’d be my Gemini.

I was so caught up in the girl who walked downcast through school halls.

Now, I only ever drink for fear that this life is my own fault.

I once gazed at your damaged perfection sleeping in my bed.

I once felt your razor-bearing pinky promise tracing all the scars within my head.

Drenched in karma as I rebuke every sickly deed I haven’t done,

And with your ring chained around my burning neck I knew the futile battle’s lost and won.

I wish you knew how it made me feel when you said you would’ve played with me those years I was alone.

When I grew up without a family in an empty, broken home.

I haven’t slept even to escape since the fading day we met,

But for the smallest glimpse of your lost soul i’d almost go through it all again.

I actually thought I was happy for a dying moment there,

But now I know beyond a shadow of your doubt you probably never truly cared.

The clock is blinking, stuck at midnight just like everything that doesn’t count.

Every time a young heart breaks does it even make a sound?

Maybe so many open legs, gashes, and lies came before you I knew it wouldn’t last,

But, come on now, please tell me why I believed I could trust you with my past?

Yeah, as if you’re even bad enough to suck up my worst dreams.

With this black ship in my bottle I can just drown out the chorus of siren screams.

The clouds bled so beautifully the day you walked away.

I guess our blue sky wasn’t meant to be and I have nothing left to say.

Voiceless Part III: Faulty Guidance by Montana Munn

•October 18, 2015 • Leave a Comment

In two months time,

I’ve had 4 in mind,

3 in my mouth,

and 2 in my heart.

If only they all knew that I’m falling apart.

Sure they see my painful blows,

Gagging on the temporary truth,

Putting aside all of my woes.

Until they become the sleuth.

I am the girl with kaleidoscope eyes,

Searching for an impeccable disguise.

I could have 20 in line,

Begging me for forgiveness,

But still end up with none of them mine;

Not like I should have gotten up in their business.

They don’t deserve these games I play,

Searching for this opulence,

“This isn’t me”, I’d say;

Leading to awaited consequence.

I feel so blind,

I’m at a loss for decision.

To have reason for being so unkind,

My life is in need of revision.

Once I’m out of their focus,

I’m adrift, seeking liberation.

Only to find exactly what broke us;

Unwanted temptation.

They tell me there’s many fish in the sea,

But they don’t REALLY see me.

I go through this cycle of being reused,

But every time dirtily reduced,

Polluting my system:

In this past years time;

Fuck, I just can’t seem to resist them.

He gave me a ring,

But it’s not that type of thing.

This man, not just some body.

Refreshing memory of security,

Widening my thoughts broadly.

If only I had a little more maturity.

Maybe I shouldn’t have either,

For both of their sakes.

It’s best to go with neither,

Since I just make too many god damn mistakes.

Voiceless Part II: Wrist by Jesse Stonefield

•October 15, 2015 • Leave a Comment

You wear so many faces, I don’t know which one to kiss.

Yet your eyes would put the clearest sky and the deepest sea to shame.

If you can ever bring yourself to fly away before you drown,

I’ll willingly slave away to gather up the shattered pieces of your smile.

You claim to walk on the clouds I blow out from my lungs,

And I cough up my heart while I chase a foil-crowned sun.

That sacred rain-slicked fire burns hot while I’m deep within your abandoned womb.

And yet, I can only feel your angel-soft broken hand in mine.

Build me a darksome tower of river rocks just as high as you will,

So we can lay in fleeting solitude dreaming dreams of fabled faraway lands,

And plans we’ll never make.

This all seems too familiar.

Maybe because I’ve been through this circle before.

But why can’t I find my way back out now that it was you who was my guide?

Voiceless Part I: Montana’s Baby Blues by Montana Munn

•October 11, 2015 • Leave a Comment

The emotions run high,
As the blood travels through.
The scenery in my eyes whilst I cry,
Conceals all truth behind blue.

Maybe you didn’t notice..
But they’re green too.

Specs of every blade of grass
I’ve let stain my jeans;
Forming a layered ring of opal glass,
So I may see what it means;

To look upon visions of purpose,
Within every picture.

My obvious unclouded sky;
Built from the moments chlorine stung,
With salty elements to purify.
Desiring to blind all my words unsung.

I do not regret my pain;
For a little adventure.

I haven’t seen what you have seen.
You have not witnessed the same as I.
So widen your view to my blue and green,
While I reveal to you my open sky.

Gypsy’s Ghost

•September 14, 2014 • Leave a Comment

We used to frolic in my bed ’til midnight,

When you would fade away into the stars.

Tender, loving sweat and moans,

Under a fog bank of pot smoke and your soft breath.

I miss the games we played.

We had so little time together from the start and in the tragic end,

But we made our jinxed moment last forever,

Pressed between our warm bodies.

Yeah, I miss the games we played.

I can still smell you on everything I wore and everything we shared.

With our eyes we touched for hours past long ago.

Even as the picture of your face dims in the murky depths of bittersweet memory,

This pain remains unbearable.

Girl, I miss the games we played.

I would never give up meeting you,

But I’d gladly give up the loss that followed right behind.

I don’t think I’ll ever sleep again without you giggling naked in my arms.

God, I miss the games we played.

You remember what I always said?

“One day we’ll grow up and never be happy again”?

Now I’m shivering, aged, and frail, but your boundless youth…

Remains eternal.

Damn, I miss the games we played.

Queen Bloodletter

•July 6, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Dark minds dream of light.
It’s easy to die, better to stand and fight.
The slow blade penetrates the silence.
Quietly, you express your love with violence.
All of your words bear the weight of heaven,
But my lucky number is one above five and one below seven.
Three times over you sucked out my last breath.
Three times over your evil was blessed.
You’re inside my heart and there’s blood everywhere.
I’m out of your mind, but trapped in your empty stare.
You cut so close to the bone, lady, what good am I dead?
I’ll never forget the phony broken romance we blindly force-fed.
Murder she wrote and murder she sent.
Would she dare bring me back if she saw the horrible place that I went?
Get a few drinks in me and the words just pour out,
But even without slurring nobody knows what I’m talking about.
Sometimes I can almost live with myself.
Tell me, can you, as well?
Even fully knowing you threw me straight to Hell.

 
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