Utterances, fragments, diligent dalliances, various overturned cars from a train of through that may have run off track. Poignant pieces of pure prose perhaps? Is the illusion an illusion of meaning or is the illusion of incoherancy there to mask a meaning?
Thursday, July 23, 2015
TWO
like Noah sailing through God's angry high seas
I scratch the surface of the rainclouds to pick at sand fleas
she looks at me when I talk like I am made of fire
beneath those eyes I sense desire
as if in a moment you can always tell
that fate would throw us together well
but is all this crackling energy
that i feel flowing from you to me
something real or merely fantasy?
a dream of what I long should be?
if I could save two of everything
could I save two hearts to sing
together eternal and simply pure
without a need for closing doors
or is this what bitterness is for?
a shame my radar's off
a shame i 'm always wrong
this decent will mean i'm gone
love will have to feed without me
a crime to think i have no song
no torch to carry on
what has left forever gone
love will have to feed without me
a carcass picked down to the bone
a light went out in the dark alone
don't call i wont pick up the phone
love will have to feed without me
exit wounds on my heart betray the end before the start
you can't start a fire underwater
battle wounds that refuse to heal
as I let loneliness congeal
lay me to rest among the best
that heartbreak has to offer
love will have to feed without me
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
ONE
an athiest lament
i try to sing in the dark
but cannot find the spark
this lonely voice i project
is instantly lost from neglect
i like my face without light
i keep going mostly out of spite
full of piss and decadence
for my imaginary jeering audience
if i pose like jesus christ
as if he was thrown on ice
would my skin freeze to the cross
would all be lost
and as the wine kicks in
i feel my skin wear thin
i stare down into my soul
i see its blackened hole
i feel so tragically broken
air still rings as if i had just spoken
the fading resonance of a beautiful dream
that turned dissonant and came apart at the seams
if i contort like jesus christ
would i collapse under frozen cross on ice
would my skin get hard as wood
would all be lost, it should
a shallow shell of a half rung bell
chimes loudly at me but for no one
out of tune and out of time
i feel lost and forgotten by everyone
i try to scream in the dark
is it too late to make my mark?
this desperate lonely rebellious yell
is weak despite its decible
on the ground like jesus christ
abandoned body a useless shell on the ice
i left against medical advice
i left to pay the price
an athiest lament
i try to sing in the dark
but cannot find the spark
this lonely voice i project
is instantly lost from neglect
i like my face without light
i keep going mostly out of spite
full of piss and decadence
for my imaginary jeering audience
if i pose like jesus christ
as if he was thrown on ice
would my skin freeze to the cross
would all be lost
and as the wine kicks in
i feel my skin wear thin
i stare down into my soul
i see its blackened hole
i feel so tragically broken
air still rings as if i had just spoken
the fading resonance of a beautiful dream
that turned dissonant and came apart at the seams
if i contort like jesus christ
would i collapse under frozen cross on ice
would my skin get hard as wood
would all be lost, it should
a shallow shell of a half rung bell
chimes loudly at me but for no one
out of tune and out of time
i feel lost and forgotten by everyone
i try to scream in the dark
is it too late to make my mark?
this desperate lonely rebellious yell
is weak despite its decible
on the ground like jesus christ
abandoned body a useless shell on the ice
i left against medical advice
i left to pay the price
Explanation of concept
A lot of times when I listen to music lyrics form in my head. These lyrics are usually rhyming in some manner and have links to each other somehow, but don't have a coherent meaning of any kind, or, sometimes they do.
I enjoy the way they feel and sound in my mind and how they look when I type them out. Since I have no criteria or purpose for them I can let them flow out and not follow any literary rules. They are what they are. Songy or poemy to a point but not constrained into either.
I figured I would start saving some of the schtuff here.
That's the huge colossal deep shallow scoop, nothing more to see here, move alone and enjoy my scribblings. Or if not, get off my e-law you damn nosy neighbors!
-mgmt
I enjoy the way they feel and sound in my mind and how they look when I type them out. Since I have no criteria or purpose for them I can let them flow out and not follow any literary rules. They are what they are. Songy or poemy to a point but not constrained into either.
I figured I would start saving some of the schtuff here.
That's the huge colossal deep shallow scoop, nothing more to see here, move alone and enjoy my scribblings. Or if not, get off my e-law you damn nosy neighbors!
-mgmt
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