The Last Rose

I write this poem some months ago and actually posted it, but then quickly took it down when I realized I could do better for it. So I changed some things around, and I will say it relates to my current place in life in a way. When I say ‘last rose’ I mean the last good thing. The thing I woke up to live for, being gone or becoming unimportant. This is about how that can happen, and when I don’t know what to do to move on, I just want to give up.

This morning’s golden halo
Torched and withered my last rose
Insanity is getting bold
Such misery…I cannot cope

Tears are slipping down my throat
Disturbed shards of a broken soul
Blades and sorrow hold me close
Dreaming far, of dark and cold

Skinless, grotesque, predisposed
Self-destruction’s all I know
Embrace my inner Scorpio
I have a future to disown

I can’t fix the status quo
Life takes too long to let me go
My lies receive a second coat
Pretend to live knowing I won’t

In Dark, In Sleep

 

 

The dark, the blind and vulnerable

I am where subconscious urges roam

 

In fluid dreams; their disconnect

They speak of all things alien

 

In sleep, sorrowful memories

A fixed unease roots from the crease

 

My threaded thoughts fray unstrung

My secure world becomes undone

 

 

A simple one that started out apart of another poem I am working on. This section I thought was better on its own.

 

The Detriment

You know some people who believe they say and do everything that is ‘right’ and morally correct? The truth is, what is right and morally safe is different for everyone based on how they grew up and their own life experiences. If I am wrong, tell me, but this poem is sort of about that kind of mentality. those who think the surface is what tells the whole story when really the surface may be the biggest lie of all. And the notion that being ‘right’ means that no matter what, they are safer in some way than others who may disagree and live in a different way. I wrote this poem with the intention of just trying to fill a page with verse, whether or not it made sense. But it has a hidden story and it is meant for personal interpretation. This short explaination is just the outline of what I think has come together and is being expressed.

They charge me as the regrettable kill joy

The androgynous evil only here to destroy

I am the one to blame; the projection of their problems

I dare their lives to fall apart; their souls to breathe the grim

My shadows will creep into their world

Murder, in the shape of an innocent girl

They see her face and huge doll-like eyes

They grab her sweet hand; she leads them to die

 

But what am I? Concentrated melancholy

My despair falls blood red; my button eyes bleed

I don’t say the right thing, the right time, the right way

I’m not the one who acts as if my ills have been erased

They want me to give them grief and stir the social drama

They want a reason to demean, to dispel their bad karma

 

Anyway, who cares? My brain is sick and melting fast

I’m trying to cut me an escape from building on my past

They painted me a naturally, unfit piece

A thief of subtle undertones; I take the pain I need

My somber reserve, stigmatized, my filthy lies exposed

They preach my path to hell; I know they will soon follow

I choke on these optimists; the detriment’s not me

They screw the word and reason, but God is not deceived.

 

Heaven Fades

This poem means a lot of things. Take it as literal if it makes more sense, but there is symbolism here. I’m still trying to figure out exactly what it means myself….I guess I mean the good things I was once told; the advice always on the bright side and how it doesn’t keep me anymore. A certain faith and security is gone and isn’t coming back soon. Darkness being more abundant, always there; light being so short lived.

A death before the life
When nothing’s wrong, nothing’s right
What if there is no afterlife?
No divine love in paradise…

Don’t presume to know what He wants
We are his random dream
I’m sure his feelings aren’t hurt
Our ‘loyalty’ means nothing

A moral story, a rusty hymn
Pure nightmares, utopian myths
Grim death is bond unto the soul
The fear that lives and dies alone

They are far upon their thrones
Those stars died out so long ago
A trillion thoughts, angels all spent
Heaven fades, in the chaos of darkness

Jazz

In this disappearing mood, this nameless fades in blue

Her soul amid seasoned notes; that piano’s sad song

Those dark hooded eyes stare off, glazed in tragedies

Cold, heavy, liquid streaks, unfortunate and smothering

Night sent its sympathy; apologies of life

Their lies and sassy attitudes, their rhythm wasn’t right

Her heart beats in smooth, storytelling jazz

As a shadow takes her hand for a final slow dance

She has the time; her poison’s in a fancy glass

She waits for the last bitter memories to pass

Success from her beating upon death’s door

Surviving hardly feels right anymore….

 This poem is newer. I wrote it with a scene in my head, trying to take myself away from personal writing, and create a character I could just relate to. It’s a little strange, especially the form, but who really cares? The whole point of what I’m writing now is to break out of the box I’ve put myself in with being so strick when coming up with verses, always having to rhyme and look ‘perfect’, up to my own standards, which are too high anyway…