Nameless

Why does he bother… deprived duende, marred by a sombrous mien, building bridges with deadwood, in a language he alone speaks; farouche, and paying the tolls to navigate the ashes yet to be, hopeless to redefine that synecdoche An innominate one, extending his naïve tongue for the whim of a wafer, an exegesis literatim; marginalizedContinue reading “Nameless”

Doll

Layered psychoses swelter her brow, helter-skelter sans clemency of a breath; nested neuroses bombastically loud, she’s a madness of matryoshka dolls; infinity mirrors of dwindling sanity, bearing distant truths of her diminishing self; the taunting homunculi with unreal expectations, synchronize chides for Platonic perfection; this ephemeral Form of unattainable need, is found unapologetic in theContinue reading “Doll”

The foundation

His light slinks away through the dormer down, cowardice cleaving an ever present foundation of atrament; the vagabond splays its seductive lumen, as shadowed steps abet its getaway; the down- ward darkened stairs impair a festinated chase to the reproachful hardwood below; he watches the trail of unrequited repulsion, lamenting his apathy to follow; swaddledContinue reading “The foundation”

Hell

Risen out of favor, the demon lost its wings; a momentary lapse of evil, granted to a more pathetic soul; its transient spark of compassion, an elemental blink of its eye, heaved it into the mortal realm, a punishment for corruption; it awakened within the wretched soul’s mind, as a dark passenger, perhaps, for heContinue reading “Hell”

To continue

He couldn’t write to save his life, evidenced ad nauseam; nor would he want to burden words with such an execrable chore It wasn’t writer’s block, no – not that he thinks he deserves the moniker – it’s rather akin to a nietzsche niche There isn’t much that occupies him, though he’d come to welcomeContinue reading “To continue”

Life is beautiful

Life is beautiful, or so they say, poetry in motion; he could only play along amidst the throng, imitating the art around him; an æsthete desperate for a glimpse through the framed roses; a forger cutting paint with turpentine, diluting delusions to bear the greyscale that taints his perception; he can only see a masterpieceContinue reading “Life is beautiful”

Jigsaw

They told him, with pride, to pick up the broken pieces, instructing him first which ones to let lie Striven by a delusion to justify failures; evidenced by illusory jigsaws, their incomplete pictures Putting together those remaining pieces of his h-e-a-r-t and s-o-u-l, has left him only another h-o-u-l Where the sewage of draining happinessContinue reading “Jigsaw”

Oblivion

Swallowing laments, coughing up stained glass, her voice is lost in the shattering barks rending the silence in twain Vitric dust settles in layers of carmine remorse over bare feet and choices wanting; painted into a corner, and into oblivion Ocular leadlights with cames of tear, a cranberry gloss no longer rose, reflecting life, herContinue reading “Oblivion”

His rose

The boy would stop to smell the rose When he grew tall enough to reach Abrading his nose upon a petal frayed While he suffocated on the redolence Rooted from his rafter for the dearest of life Suspended by its thorny vine, the hanger hung It was ever there, of his being a part, apartContinue reading “His rose”

Potential

It lies not in the belief that you’re a butterfly Therein lies the dusted iridescence of insanity Nor in the misguided extolments of strangers Therein lies the birth of a disfigured maggot Potential lies only in one’s ability to exceed it Most will never soar amidst the kaleidoscope art: butterfly by Peterio

Whittle

Lip chewing Making waves Beneath heavy lids Going down stares Led by come hither fingers Dripping darkness dares To steel my clenched fist Whittle flesh, make a man Bereft of bone and sinew Pedal and brimstone Whet with gore and malice Grinding shrapnel for dessert Soaked in lies and afterthought Napalm charring the bowel OfContinue reading “Whittle”

Amble

Closing gaping open wounds with tiny searing nooses Stitching burning questions in lamentous deadman sutures Itching ambling fingernails in obeisance of their masters Tearing at the sentient seals withholding all the answers Flaying scarring keratin with mindless zeal abide Knowing flowing remedies are hiding just inside art: by Paolo Troilo

Wild horses

Drawn and quartered memories Wild horses on unbridled courses A whipping fury of tails and manes They, reigning without reins They, unsaddled by saddles An unbroken stampede of nightmares On anger benders, biting the bit broken Bygone woebegone won’t begone They, the slaughterers They, the rider renders art: Four Horses of Apocalypse by Lorenzo Ghiglieri

Integrated

She deploys her apparitions in forward ambulation, and watches with desperation as they carry out their vocation With her imagination, in each direction and interaction, she’s intently searching for an end, to her crippling life retraction Spiritual substitutions feed her relentless observation, investigation into the world, a long sought integration Each ghost has her ownContinue reading “Integrated”

Petulant

A doting son, a distant father A gulf of petulance between Taken for granted, disenchanted A landfill of shoes to fill A landfill of time to kill A lonely son, a father deceased A gulf of emptiness between Grown to contemplate, appreciate A curio of shoes to display A curio of time to dismay art:Continue reading “Petulant”

Solace

My mind, ripped from fantasy like a child from its mother’s arms, searches frantically for an escape from reality back into dream and solace; wherein the darkness anonymous am I, while the banquet of my soul takes place with loathing, sorrow, and guilt gorging upon misery and me art: by Eric Lacombe

Deviate

Too young to fear the coming jeer from a host of bitter grey Left unprepared when venom flared for living her own way She would deviate and elevate to rise above the horde Then was ostracized and lobotomized for striking her own chord So she hid the fire and bid the pyre to keep herContinue reading “Deviate”

Wasted words

He writhes and tries beneath the watchful oaken knots bleeding down the panderous wooden doors They silently listen to his silence, but react only to the tumult of enamourous heartbeats behind their truer sides Imperfections in the window panes warp his warped view of the painful imperfections he’s been shown Dissecting his reflection, and othersContinue reading “Wasted words”

Not be

The searing reminders of innate fallibility, subconscious pillars of darkness wept, supporting the crumbling azure high Recurring rejection in sobering plentitude, feigned adulation for favors in the interim, naught but nothing remains There’s no escaping the erubescent sear, holding sway beneath the eyes, from consuming the hymns of songbirds There’s no escaping the being inContinue reading “Not be”

Mad Kate

A severe widow’s peak favoring aquilinity, nested over a murder of crow’s feet clawing at her eye’s marge, with fresh, lunatically hewn laugh lines creasing her etiolated countenance, these lineaments on her face presaged those on the page; her fingers vomited words in widow speak, while anoesis urged the violence in her closing strokes andContinue reading “Mad Kate”

Silenced

He tires of the magmatic struggle, the viscid tiger crawl of liquid basalt enveloping his head; The vertiginous plume consuming his vision in a latticework of soot, smoke, and sorrow; The thermic surge, a thigmotropistic urge, seeking to enflame his fuming faculties; The sweltering seduction of fervid lips, brushing his cheeks to glowing rubescence; AContinue reading “Silenced”

Conniption

Bleeding out from self-inflicted conniptions Deafened by the ear-shattering report of rage Jabbing and stabbing, craving and staving A shudder in the stillness of vespertine Another epilogue, for another volume on impuissance Midnight eyes, rain clouds in her sky, staring at the ceiling Asphyxiating words dying in the air Reaching out from self-constriction, limply hangingContinue reading “Conniption”