Let's color the roots of my desire,
allow inescapable dreams to come true,
fashion the life I've lived in my head,
bring joy to those who pressured me here.
I can't remember my name no more,
it shouldn't matter now that we are one,
I've chosen the best pill to swallow,
love will protect me from those who destroy.
WHAT A WONDERFUL...
Society is a Mammoth;
it lurches above us all,
directing our passions into its own;
we are powerless to the monstrosity,
what can we do but fall to our knees?
Our parents feed its belly with tithes,
sending their children off to brainwash,
emulating values held highest by the popular few.
Who benefits most but those blessed enough
to apply what they've been instructed to learn?
Winning scruples announcing success in the eyes of all
is a majesty we should all encompass, is it not?
Satisfied faces smile well to the few lucky ones
making ends meet endless through dedication and time.
Yearn we shall for the forefront in life,
better to outdo those living across our dividing line,
see our wits compiled in the joys of many,
sucking upon the needs of the few.
Lesser doesn't mean better,
judgment shouldn't be rushed upon solemn compromise,
there's a better world to be made out there,
people must fall down so the greater can rise.
Your life should be ecstasy in other's eyes,
no matter what the cost to your conscience,
there's no second guessing - others have guessed for you,
all the right answers are here to be had,
nothing will ever harm you again.
UNSPOKEN FOR
I sold my soul
to the lord,
and my family died
the very next day.
"Trust faith, be strong
and mighty," said the lord.
"Fuck you," I replied,
"I want my family back."
So it begins, life from lifelessness, the dawn of evolution. No more cosmic disarray, but molecules, air, and gigantic oceans. Molecules joined, weaving life as we know it, to spread upon the land. There, on the land, mighty beasts roamed, now as extinct as the shape of their continent. Brought into life is another beast, deadly and skilled in all ways, they rise to the top and destroy all, noticing it far too late. So it ends, dreadfully the beasts look on, diminishing with their ignorant ways, extinction is imminent.
Vodka soared into my veins, like coarse sand upon paper; my illusion torn, I broke my lavish alliance, taking a breath of forsaken air, seventeen floors above sanity. I slipped from the balcony, and let my blood burn, watching a light blue Mercedes-Benz roof come closer, until, ultimately, I collided
Hope rains upon us all like a parade, and in our shackles we hear our voices ringing, melodiously shattering every heartbeat we bear, crying of broken dreams lost to yesterday, the will to undo all the wrong.
Endless nights of uninhibited joy, squander to reckon upon this: My Judgement Day; Memory burns to my mind, likenesses of many forgotten faces, looking all the same in the moment; Discovering names to unknown faces and bodies, hundreds of fragments within my head, trying to recall as my life falls to pieces, the one who could have taken my life.
They held hands near the beach, never stepping foot upon the sand, their eyes met but glanced away, soon forgetting what anything meant. The trip was over, they flew home, parted, never to speak again, yet met years later at a pub, only to recall the beach, and how soft the sand felt below their feet.
In trances lie the dead, carried down in a resistance lost, grieving none but the pale faces of houses transformed to rubble, dusting plains with red sod, turned to stone by steel eyes, pouring blood like a broken vase. Brothers in arms dying together alone, forgotten, wild, and rotten in lost memory, to bleeding hands erupting youth, cold in despise on a world misunderstood, lacking tears in the agony of lust, the dust of those trifle far in fear. Let arms fall free, madness biting loose nerves dead, building iron from flesh, destroying the hunger of greed loudly, so blood yearns none the touch of air, and tranquility is a yeast uneaten, regardless of young prophet's dreams, praying death before life lost, forgotten youth pray quietly to those who stare, what madness had this become, our lives lie in truths bestowed, and man relives the crime.
Tell me another one... in faith I choose not to reply to what you just said, instead I fall down above you, leaving all prophecy to myth, becoming one with ourselves; yet the coldness of your look, transfixes with my confusion of your judgment upon me; is there another reason for manhood, but to look towards the beginning, the same as the end, and forget that tomorrow is another day? Maybe I stuttered in my dismay, never were your words so misunderstood, do I have to listen to you as well as my heart? Why must we fight? Never was my heart hoping to clash with your emotion, I merely wanted to sit and enjoy what was rightfully mine to see, I only wanted to envy, not deceive, never was there to be a difference, or a change; these little facts annoy you, because you change what I am. Maybe I can't reach you at my level? I see us as far more than I see you now, together we are a combination, not a lock, the truth of the matter is my ignorance, yet in remembrance I was not ignorant, I was no fool, or careless, I was an explorer and I enjoyed the forgotten land, the land I just discovered and nearly lost; alone is so far from where I was, I needed you then and I had you, you twisted my paradise lost, we discovered our differences and seem to love each other for it; still, what was it you just said?
REGRETS (FROM A GHOST'S POINT OF VIEW)
The loneliness I feel is deep, and finds itself locked forever in my soul, but for me that's everything, and everything means nothing to me now. I want to die, but I'm already dead, and it was feelings like these and these thoughts of mine which brought me here today. If I knew it would be like this, I would have waited, but that chance is lost, and I can never enjoy a life I hated until it's too late. Now, I wander endlessly - no one to blame, so I'm lost here in my grave of self hate, I dream, if only I could, of a day when I would be free of these chains, the very chains I locked myself into. I really want to die, but I know I'm already dead, I died, that day, in more ways than one, and my soul, my only possession, is also to be my only companion in my endless search for freedom. I want to die... but death has already taken me, it was my own hand that brought me here, and the trigger of a long forgotten instrument; the time for regret has certainly come. I really want to die...
The singer stepped up to the stand, and a bomb blew up all her band, she screamed out loud, and so did the crowd, for all that was left was a hand.
Drifing Endlessly, after falling off a tree, should build character.
I once bled, but now have emptied all my despair, and look upon living as a madness consuming my limping soul, coveting in it's realm, far beyong simplicity, to explain what purpose I serve.
I wish I were dead, and forget my heart bled, my life gone far away, never a glimmer another day. Lay me down across a plain, forget my feeling, only pain, trusting no one in my despise, a glimmer today to my surprise.
Can I not hear the gunshots, tearing away your familiar face? Have I pulled the trigger? There is no pain to feel, watching you bleed in my arms. Am I wrong? I've come to feel life again, watching you plead mercy in shrieks, as I torture your frail body. Am I a killer? I robbed your wife from your sheets, fucking her before your painful glare. Am I a rapist? My joy in slitting your children's throats, far exceeds what your wife could bare, as your eyes look at me, painfully bleak, why should I give a fuck what you think?
While I sharpen my blades, she walks in, unclothing her frail body before my eyes, I stare, watching a single drop of sweat appear and travel between her youthful breasts. The virgin does not see me, nor have I seen the one whose lips touch hers, licking the perspiration from her nipples, revealing to her, his muscular frame. To watch this display would have me die, I charge before them both, dagger clamped firmly in my palm, slashing at him until he bleeds his final breath. The virgin lies in my arms now, losing her innocence by my force, her adolescent glare pounding my desire, pounding out toward the silence, as her youth bleeds away, allowing mine to live once more. Her mystery charms me, slitting the throat of her child-like neck, bleeding will wash away her sorrow, her face turns pale and lifeless, in her final breath, I regain myself, to bury away this dear deed, letting only my memory hold on forever.
A DRUNKEN RAPIST'S ONE-SIDED TALE
Sorry I tripped your feet, never meant to have you fall near that dumspter; How was I to know my friends would hold you down? My zipper fell completely by accident, not to mention my belt buckle undoing, how was I to hold up my pants now? The wind was unkind to blow up your skirt, tried pulling it down but your panties came instead; So why am I inside you now? Nature invites me to enjoy your divinity, what a rare and noble occasion this is, allow me to hold you to ground, so you can also enjoy, what my friends have to offer you, it is much the same, I agree, only so you can hold virtuous so much blessing in a single day; it's a shame we must part with you now, thank you for your generous time, can't remember what your face looked like, perhaps another round together, will burn the image into our brains; we hope to graze the earth with yours alike again, has our nobility left any impression?
FIVE MINUTES IN ALSACE-LORRAINE, 1916
He fought the war out of regretful self asteem, to be chastised upon this forsaken ground, where death is as bountiful as the air, tasted foul amongst fresh faced warriors, crying anguish against diplomat's dreams. In fury of this misunderstood fight, he rides the deathfalls of a thousand men, having bled the ground their tears of sorrow, in final gasps among the mind's masquerade, of faces their eyes will never see again. The ground breaks his silent fall from grace, feeling only the ever violent rhythm from within, clasping onto as much of this death filled cauldron, as his lungs will allow him to carry, watching the fireworks calmly above his head. He raises his only voice to their eyes, from underneath a river of broken men, to be taken away from this overflowing graveyard, among murky hell to glamourous purgatory, losing sight of the chaos felt within. A short silent breath whispers among pandemonium, stiffening the young soldier's resolve, as ever echoing question waiting for a reply: whose destiny shall foretell this similar fate? Passing every unmarked shadow waiting for a grave, reality pauses to explain what should soon be understood, that the dead shall teach us all nothing new, rather they will remind us of our shame forever more.
He sits quietly as a little unguarded face, projects its awkward messages to his, her teeth bite upon ignorant lips, speaking words of familiarity to a stranger, as he steals her from the pockets of her parents, making her bleed from some unknown joyless act, she will never grow to understand entirely, yet forever live upon its gratitude.
Edge of seat madness within your name beckons a forgotten melody far from love too close for comfort unchanging as stone. Calm my awakening challenge the beating heart a lifeless duel edging a final warcry to a defeated soul. A crying shame destiny provoked solace becomes truth shame holds high an emotional escapade my darling angel.
The office collapses and I find myself trapped within the wreck, my only companion happens to be my secretary, a faithful servant for life, who undoubtedly saves me once more, as help fails to arrive in time, hunger consumes my desire for her, and she ends up resting in my stomach.
The woman's breasts stole my eyes, explaining my inability to forsee her slap.
Just because the world didn't end doesn't mean you can deny me oral sex, I want the next millenium to begin secure in the knowledge that I'm doing what everybody else is.
She never came to the restaurant, and I enjoyed my birthday all alone, there was a note she left for me though, it read: "FUCK YOU! YOU FUCKING PSYCHOTIC! WOULD YOU PLEASE QUIT FUCKING FOLLOWING ME!?" Does this mean she doesn't want to see me anymore? Should I stop following her? I'm worried that she'll be hurt, the world isn't safe, after all, a lot of crazy people around.
They do not see the eloquent me, dare I ever open my mouth, stumbling to misrepresent my cause. How disappointing this affliction has been, causing eternal drought in my verbal causeway, placed there forever by silencing thoughts, blocking every reputable assembling of words. Forced is my hand to write this down, that I may weep in drowning resolve, attempting to convince my banality, that it has no greater cause. I am to be a silent player for life, hiding behind curtains alone, waiting for the world to love me, hating myself with every lost breath. They understand my pain better than I, knowing the cure lies within me, if I'd ever own up to let it perform, I'd free myself from this derivative hell.
When aliens discover who we are inside, will they turn their ships around, going back to where they came from, and promised to take us to? Will we, as a whole, feel anything then, once we've been galactically snubbed, by others so much greater than we, to have known the irreversable faults of our ways? Perhaps then we'll trust our instincts, recognising ourselves instantly as fools, laughing heartedly at our ways of destruction, finally willing to do something to change. The next stage of evolution would begin, people would die holding onto rotting values, while others would look ahead by changing now, making it better for everyone who would live.
Success is a disease sold by false saviors, who are too weak to eat the forbidden fruit, every dollar earned decrepits some other poor soul, yet we hail and praise the great systems' work. Religion is chaos enforced by slaves, who have lost everything to gain nothing, each pagan's charity consumed by others' wealth, children's minds erased by the recklessness of faith. Sex is a commodity given mistakenly of love, those who cherish it die for its reward, the weight of every lost soul calculated in gold, only shillings pocket their way home for eternity. Intelligence is a solemn oath everyone denies, relying on others to blindfold their path to salvation, how reckless must mankind let themselves be, until they find a new livelihood to destroy?
Nobody notices you on the map, our people don't care if you're important, why should we wake from our sleep, and nestle our arms around you tonight? What have you done for us lately? leaving you be doesn't make our people die, why must we televise your plight at all? how many nights will you disturb our sleep? Let us rest now tonight in peace, no more bombs eating tax dollars away, how can we live in a country causing chaos? how many enemies will we make in this fight? We the people tire of losing conflicts of interest, waging war against enemies we'd care not understand, what must we do for our beloved country's silence? how many useless battles will we be forced to watch?
She wiped away tears a long time, silenced them as he came into view, gracefully disposed of his generocity, slammed his distress out the door. Their distance gaped from her nested guard, their petals unfurled in lovers' defeat, his youth was executed waging others' war, her innocence blossomed waiting patiently alone. His corpse ushered others their freedom, her name stayed fortuitously her own, his faithful gesture she kept in solitude, perched hopeless awaiting his return.
The immaculate feline scowled at her prey determining the best tragectory to catapult, bringing the untimely rodent to its demise; upon flight she examined this soon to be corpse, locating the juiciest habour of flesh to reap, but a passing vehicle fortook a slaughter of its own, spreading the great hunter's contents for all to gape.
Lost my dinner listening to your story, what a waste of my precious time, do you really believe that redundant diatribe, so full of shit, I can smell it halfway up your throat? Don't kiss me you beggar, I'm not a doll to be messed with, these heels will dig your grave, should you smear my lipstick again. Order me another glass from the bar, so I can laugh at your jokes, waiting for your vulgar weight to fall over, so I can pay for this month's rent. Class me an inch above insect if you must, nature breeds predators for easy prey, I absorb lives while standing outside the fence, sneering at your kind butting their heads within.
Decrepit house upon the hill, does he haunt you still? memories will you fade away, beatings I received everyday? does my father live these walls, will he rape me with my dolls? lovers plenty, friends a few, you sold me to them all anew, my tender skin bled from within, rapturous betrayal from trusted kin, killing now what's left to see, using the abilities you revered me, quandary should I get my way, my final hour spent will be committing your slay.
I am nothing, am I happy here doing what I am?
If she asked me I'd say 'yes'. Sometimes I look in her eyes, thinking the question is being asked, but I'm too afraid to say 'yes'. If I kissed her unexpectedly, would she melt in my arms, or fall away from me forever. Is this a risk worth taking, does my mind paint dreams upon its landscape, that can't possibly be true? When her eyes ask me again, I will try to say 'yes'.
Nothing warms me, my aspirations are null, life is not what I want life to be, things will never change, all I know now will be more, but everything I am will remain the same, someday even I will bore of myself, and will shoot myself rather than die alone.
We should kill every person on this planet, blame them for making the earth bleed, cleanse the pain we've travelled far to fell, launch ourselves back into the stoneage. There's no point disguising our hideous faces, the God's have every right to end our intolerance, we itch at the heavens so our punishers will come, but we're too insignificant to destroy.
Sometimes watching the watchers, you become the cynical one, a part of you lashes out at the order you perceive as disorder, nerves are shot to death, as you try to comprehend the emotions, controlling every emblem of your being. Slowly as you drift awake, you realize the languid world you lived in momentarily has got to disappear once again, and you wish there was a way to stay warm in this home you've built with your hands, far from the reaches of everyday life, stuck in your little corner of the world.
You know society has cancer, when weapons bring people comfort, the age old wisdom of life lived is passed on by a computer screen, and sexual gratification is provided by consuming a miracle drug.
Cold and alone, no fortunes bestow upon a filthy wanderer, who seeks but never finds, yearing for a city of gold, that has never existed, trapped in the subzero temperatures, waiting to die.
I've been writing poems for a number of years now, and don't really expect to get anywhere through them. The simple pleasures I get out of writing is enough to make me happy. I live in Edmonton, Alberta and was born on February 22, 1979 in Pembroke, Ontario. There really isn't much else worth saying about me.My dream, other than seeing the Edmonton Oilers win another Stanley Cup, is to travel the world someday.
All public comments will be sent to The Ivory Elephant and will be published on this website at a future date. All Private messages will only be read by the Author.
