Tag: melancholia

  • catscratch

    with skin kissed in rope burns
    and pricked of thorns
    sheets stained of summer and
    whispers screamed at forlorn

    all barbed with catscratch
    do you desire anything more?

  • idle thoughts

    I sometimes wish I could be the knight bewitched by La Belle Dame sans Merci. I might be doomed to an imminent grave, but at least I will enjoy heading to my doom.

    Or, perhaps, I feel more like hopping in my skiff and riding the stream after failing to keep my focus on the mirror, and looking at beauty riding on by as did The Lady of Shallot.

    Or give myself to the waters in a fit of madness, as poor Ophelia did.

    Who suffered more? Tristan or Isolde? Let me taste that joy in the time before they fell.

    This is all absurdity, and yet… and yet… At moments there was joy.

  • purgatory

    purgatory wasting through
    these feet miss those pavements
    they once knew, with that
    rattle clack underbridge
    and runaway trains
    going noplace, from
    weatherworn couch south
    to lay-z-boy destinations
    east of uptown lights and
    rusted fingers grasping rails

    if only heaven would come
    in on the five-o’clock dream
    we might feel alive
    once again

  • dirges

    a dreaming of you
    and shadowfell in
    the forgetting at wake
    they sang love dirges 
    in the fading away
    slipping umbral
    of fingers slight

    the better suture 
    my lips tight

  • mere porn

    in succumbing to the circlejerk

    and inoculated in our pleasuredome

    we have lost all that's real

    the nausea seasons every meal and

    our bedmates, a chalked parkside fuck you

    and in-between the constant commercial breaks

    ever promise made: mere porn