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because there is no silenceRan my fingers,
fumbling like moonlight on an abandoned piano.
Exhude an icy glissando
and oscillate to waves:
faint shadows are stalking;
Look, they are all the same,
faced back, armed with bows
climbing the wooden walls like
moist ivy on a violin fretboard.
It’s scales all over again.
On a rotting theatre,
the accompaniment ready
the keys melting,
wait faced back.
hammering shades to a light strung string and
cut it short. The audience trembles,
the blinds of this paper prison must go up soon.
But you wait, warming up,
playing silence like the dead ivy into ink
like scales all over again.
AubadeWake up mid-night!
All you see are frozen
fireflies like lamp posts hung from crowded skies
and the sleeping cattle blotching at the
We are here at the junction and cross
to the infinite vanishing road and
yes, time has stopped. (our shadows are
stretched to the autumn forest stoned in black:
the sun cannot pin us on a rack.)
let’s perform a Gedankenexperiment.
Unveil the peel from the rotting globe,
Earth, as you would call it:
a light-slimed orange in the airless dome.
Foreground is dimmed, we can finally see stars,
(so alone, you’d conjure them into webs)
twinkling fire shooting stars as it falls back to home.
Now, make a wish that will finally come true,
we have all time to make the morning due.
Though the saddled-lights have left their mark on the sky
dancing like ember sparks at night, it eats them away:
On the menu tonight, old giants.
Taurus lies on the bleak altar bleeding shooting stars,
Halloween ghosts burning away
“She died today of a heart attack.”
“Oh,” I heard her murmur. “I’ll come as soon as I can.”
She’s too busy with school to come anyway.
You were one who always chased fireflies,
you said, one night, in the whirring of the flooded grove.
But truth was: I hated them,
much as I did to squealing cicadas
in the night
or much as I did to see my sisters
go to college in cars,
goodbye to this sweat-stained air!
bursting smoke soaring
like a swarm of effervescent moths
in the night.
Can you imagine how beautiful it would be to be like them?
Those moths free from your grasp of mangroves,
grounding me in salted soil, wriggling
your maze of leaves, to see stars hung like a scintilla
(just over there)
above the diffused sky?
And to just never stop
running from you…
What are you, you ask?
(if you were here)
You are but dust and ash,
clutching earth to grow
a Venus flytrap, vines enticing
to swing in a shaded jungle gym blind.
Lure me in
A Year On1.
burning in the sun: lying
grey sandy soil filled
with smouldering leaves.
Ant is in there, warm
with stolen gold, and grasshopper
wants light back.
Icicle drops dying
like rain quenching
Fallow fields without
flowers: in it, one, alone
bleeding like shore crabs
spun out of dancing waves or
four footprints gone from the sand.
steps galloping, glazing over
oceans of glass according to them:
they leave a rather deep print
you see, a mist sweeping the hints
from this world. But invisible
below the glass ceiling, they’d all just see
in any mirror
a self-portrait of a white shadow
prints on blackened tidal roads.)
they withdraw, and howl
because words are just...
not enough for you.
You and I had a bike,
and we used to spin it round the industrial site
that your white breath laid siege to, where a blank flag
cauterized from the breeze now
slumps: defeated and still. Wheels go round,
and it pushed the beating machine,
that war-torn bike, croaking on like
a dirty boat. Raise your arms, you in the back!
‘Like a king,’ you told me.
So I did,
and you safely pedalled on.
And the waves of scraps came whirring,
as I fell down, a bleeding pawn of the undulating road.
The bike fell apart,
(well, my part. yours?)
and as yo
ShanghaiedOf a turbulent sky and blooming chives,
They tell on of some garden in blue clouds,
Of reveries lost beneath pirate’s paradise,
Of anchors coaxing them to land. “To drought
We’ll go!” they said, marooned to the golden shroud,
And I dozed on lotuses of blood. Now closed, though pumping
I’m afraid. I wonder what my kind had dreamt?
Wading in ocean swamps, does our lust, humping
Up and down, shake this timed torrent to come? Yes.
And we must fall? Yes! Hung from Delusion’s noose
Of Senescence, We, phantoms, evicted guests,
Brashly snared in our yearning vines and booze,
Found meteors—It all dried. But I can’t/won’t revive
Lost memories of long forgotten lives—
You call meYou call me a freak
I say I'm unique
You call me crazy
I say sanity is overrated
You call me a sissy
I say I'm sensitive
And proud of it
You call me depressed
I say it's true
But I'm not ashamed of it
Five AMPre-dawn darkness again, seething, quiet
A monster hugging the city
How heavy, how suffocating it is
The clock has run down on time for dreaming
A void between night and morning
Ready to swallow everything up
A time for old men's reflections
On love, and loss, and sorrow
Oppressive black sky, you eat everything
But the all-night diner
Where lonely old men sit
Drinking coffee at five AM
QuicksandYou trapped me
Dragged me below the surface
And held me there
You chained me
Put brass around my ankles
And left me struggling
You broke me
Beat me with whips made of hate
And hurt me more
You changed me
Made me who you wanted
And killed me inside
You hid me
Stole me away from the light
And made me blind
You crushed me
Blew my dust in the wind
And danced on my grave
surrounding my body
And now I'm twenty feet under
With no chance of being saved
From Your 'Secret' AdmirerHeaven,
this is not a love letter
I will swear to God,
with a halo on my head
and a hole in my heart.
But the fact is I revere you
more than I have any right to.
After all, we are nothing except
who have awkward conversations.
So why is it that every time the line
falls silent I panic, worrying that your shadow
will make my efforts nothing but a distant memory,
when every word you speak strongly marks my mind?
Simple: I fear having something to lose
and losing the nothing I have. You are a
treasure to me, and this note becomes my confession.
Sincerely- I typed this, but I'm sure you'll recognize the handwriting.
Death, Judgment, RebirthLast Time in the ICU
Shadow rats, beady red eyes focused hungrily
Stay still too long and they’ll swarm
Sharp little teeth rending flesh
They know the sick and weak
They can wait
Tenth floor ICU, down with the disease again
He’s resting quietly, the nurse says
She looks like a huge black rat
Does she know what’s happening?
Closing the door
She walks away
Sweet childhood dreams are interrupted
Rats gnawing away at the edges
Toothy little kisses all over
Cleaning, cleansing scurry
Down to the bone
Sentenced to Live
Firelight, poker-faced patchwork man reading aloud
An old but vaguely familiar tome, his tone is somber
Was I one of the wicked? Weren’t we all?
Who can say that they were good?
Sentenced to live yet another life
I cry; I’ve had enough living
I want to sleep forever, leave my shell behind
To crumble to dust, useless, I won’t need it
Every door opens to the same world
Is this hell, then? The onl
give me a challenge, give me you.i have grown
the blood in my veins
have become more
than plasma, and i
am now trapped
within my own hollowed-out
this haze of
has to be transitory--
i can't let it be anything
are winter fire
that warms my body,
that stokes my heart.
is velvet gloss
through my hair,
under my shirt.
is silk screen
beneath my fingertips,
between my lips.
moves like ocean water,
washes over me,
floods every inch of me.
clinging to your cheeks,
puddling the pillow,
caught inside my kiss.
palm to palm with mine,
soft and breathy in my ear,
loud and gasping
against my mouth.
pressing against mine,
rising to meet me,
applauding in rhythm.
grasping at my shoulders,
sliding down my chest,
clinging to my skin.
squeezing me tightly.
arching up to me,
tilting back your chin,
pressing us so close.
undulating in excitement,
trembling in joy,
shivering with delight.
echoing inside my head,
calling out to the universe,
telling me everything.
tender and delicate,
Untitledi'm holding myself
because you are the air in my lungs
and if loving you
is like breathing
i would rather drown
The Flying FlagLong and faithful,
You have flown,
Our country's emblem,
You have shown.
Plain of blue,
Stripes of red,
Star spangled banner,
No force of arms,
No threat without,
Will bring her down,
A fortress of strength,
Impregnable from attacks.
But rot the core,
And she will fall.
No trojan horse,
But a traitorous heart,
Will wreck her strengths,
Into a weakness.
Above it all,
Oblivious to the changes,
The flag flies on,
SundialDew glistened in morning dust of light;
When frozen laughter of stars cease, you would sight
Just barely cross pavements shrouded dark, the sundial.
Morning: veils, roses rally rampant for the Festival. Kites
Loom across on cerulean seas. For miles,
Pilgrims sailed on barges down the blue Nile.
Though it did not matter much to the queen's
Eyes fixed round the ebbing tide of men round the sundial.
Nothing, she said. Gaze at your reflection. Lean
In. How long should the craggy mosaic be green
At them, couples fresh and pink and peaches white,
When by her side was her pharaoh in his stone bed so keen?
Dew glistened in the mourning dusk of light.
Due it was, that sands would cover tombs in their plight.
Though, you can see just barely that sundial still
Mourning, and star spangled veils rose rampant to its flight.
pray into my collarbone
let your snake tongue slither
with the syllables.
i wish for soft-chested nights,
and the trickle of champagne down crystal glass.
poppy-lips, lull me to sleep,
nurse my coiling tongue with yours;
tap my scalp like a silent drum,
and wind my hair in between your fingers
like broken guitar strings.
(serenade me with the buzz of pollen in your kiss.)
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More