love's death: a sonnet

eternal eyes,

goddess hair,

longing stare,

sorrow belies.

wistful guise.

failing care.

resigned despair,

mortal lies.

arcane lips,

lost face.

blood drips,

love's trace.

life's eclipse,

finally chaste.

death do us part

cast thine shadows away,
in dutiful sorrow I mourn.
night of darkness pray,
fateful morrow be born.

sordid jealousy shimmer,
simmering hate burn marrow.
predator eyes, hunt aglimmer,
my scorn'd countenance sallow.

despondent, satisfy hunger.
enraged, i find contentment.
tearful blood flows in anger,
dawn alighting lamentment.

this deathly horror i've lived,
shorn all hope to redeem.
once with your love bestowed,
now death, certain and keen.

sound words

word without sound,
my happiness fills.
sound without words,
silence that kills.

askance mood, depart.
release this sorrow.
depart, mood askance.
exile by morrow.

blessing my tears.
purpureus blood, bleed.
tears, my blessing.
spirit be freed.

anguished serenity

and if i said, would you believe me?

so, why should I say? just believe me.

in pain i lay, calling your name.

in pain i laid. you called my name.

was it mordant anguish? uncaring prying?

for anguished i was, trying and crying.

hurting to want, wanting to hurt

beholden, these eyes blinded by sugar,
descubren al fin, siniestro pasar.
bitter-filled sound, lover's laughter afar,
olas que rompen las sombras del mar.


porcelain body, in sodden touch mar,
sentencias mi ser, eterno pesar.
immaculate fire, cauterize scar,
mi virtud, verdugo, voy a vengar.

scars

scars.
i like.
for they have meaning.
markers of past, reminders that last.

scars of birth; marks of light; mother's milk. progeny pride.
pristine slice, precious brand, stained skin, shrinking gangrene.

scars.
i loathe.
for they mean nothing.
signs of vileness, symbols of evilness.

shreds of mind, eyes of dread; tyrannous truth, damaging dread.
burning shrapnel, bullet tumbling, tearing tissue, ripping reason.

40 proof distorsion

i
  recall spinning lavender sounds, midsummer's lucid parody.

feel
      heartbeats tasting dark white, explosive moon rise.

pain
      conspiring gentle shrill visions, fire chilled thoughts.

within
      my mind's contriving touch, acrid silent crash.

me,
    distrusting death's deafening smell, alluring memory numbness.

experimental #0001

these thoughts impure,
i must endure.
escape from me.
depart.

your love impart,
for being apart,
torture for me.
pain.

my sorrow contain,
try in vain.
inflict upon me,
abuse.

your fire use,
forgive me muse.
desire tear me.
sufrir.

no quiero vivir.
me quiero morir.
¿quieres a mí,
dejar?

¿me quieres matar?
me quiero vengar.
deshazte de mí.
vivir.

sólo quiero vivir,
but staying here,
life in me,
loose.

my love refuse,
death pallor induce.
blood in me,
constrain.

say it again
truth don’t restrain.
tenderly, hold me.
heart.

your words hurt,
requiem, tragic art.
life for me,
unsure.

v2.0 like, hair, you know?

"…so, like, you know, Mrs.-stylist-or-whatever, I pay you to do my hair, and not, like, to bore me." so, like, I did not, like, really tell her, as-if! but she, like, kept going on and on, like she could not stop, like she had taken an oral laxative or something? And, like, my day to-ta-lly sucked, and all, and all I want to do is, like, relax, and like have her do me? …oh-my-gosh, did I, like, just say that? Do me? Eeewww! No, no, no…she is "doing my "do," doing my "do!"" oh-my-gosh: gross! Whatever…
So, like, my eyes, like, close, and it feels like I'm totally floating or something, and the hair just, like, falls, and all, and its weird 'cos, like, I feel it falling, and, like, I'm thinking, like, "if I was standing on one of those scale thingies, would I, like, weigh less, or something?" Whatever…
Anywho, she just keeps going on and on and, like, keeps totally talking my ear off, like when you call my cell, and, like, we talk, but, like, that is, like, totally different, and I swear, I'm, like, oh-my-gosh, like, "you don't get the clue?" "Hel-lo-o-o; is there anyone, like, in there?"
So, like, the tanning-booth-fan-thingies, or whatever, the ones that keep you cool and all, but you, like, sweat like the football team practicing, like, they are sooo to-ta-lly hot anyway, but, like, they are to-ta-lly gross later...anywho...and don't the lights, like, burn you with..."you-be," "ultera-v," "ulter-vio"...whatever, and, like, don't they, like, kill cooties or something, and, like, my nerd brother says they, like, show your drool on your pillow, and, like, totally—eeewww—stuff, like, oh-my-gosh, so-gross...
Well, like, they turn the fan-thingies off, 'cos some chick is, like, done, and, I swear, I'm relaxing, 'cos the noise they make is, like, dreamy, or something, so, like, I'm, like, "this is tooo much," and fi-na-lly, I'm, like, done, but a total bitch, 'cos I could not snooze and all… and, I'm, like, 'if she just shut-UP"...what-ever...

souls broken

¿are we broken? browning petals off budding roses.

¿are we souls? mindless folly, bound to lore.

¿are we broken souls? retched lives, destined to hope.

belonging, i did not ask for this, and the black cat

bipolar without question, i question belonging.
is this the appropriate context? am in the right setting?

you post about your life. i post my puzzling thoughts.
you share valuable information, i obfuscate reality (disinformation as survival instinct?)

you write matter-offactly, conversationally. my words fight each other for form, jockey for function.

you write in english, i write in tongues.

i desire to post plainly, but technical terms, obscure metaphors, incomprehensible similes, unintelligible txandiisms...

two minutes and thirty three seconds in my psyche, follow. pay particular attention to the devolvement of thought. refer to the comments for additional insight

gato es negro. (so i lived in España, that is why i know...)
le chat est noir. (this, i just know, do not know how...)
die katze ist schwarz. (i lived in Deutschland too...i still get der-die-das confused, though)
black as night, the cat is. ( o - k - a - y )
the cat, its shadow, one. (this is taking a life of its own)
the feline's pigmentation, obscure as its demeanor. ("whatever you say, dear")
vortex of night, total eclipse, projections onto the cat's fur. (total left field)

why can i not simply write simply?

do i help? does this help? do i need help? do I belong?

the contrary virtues: abstinence and i

abstinence, i do not practice: it happens;
it is not abstinence, as much as it is hunger.
interesting state, bearable, but gnawing, trying, yet unintended.
it is here, it is now. it chews and subdues.
i should eat. i have food. i would disturb, intrude.
i reflect in this cavitating stupor; i relax in this emptiness.

today i subsisted on 700 kilocalories, of which 279, i expended during my midday retreat.
i feel myself full of life, while on the verge of loosing consciousness.
i sense freedom of thought and movement.
i experience the pain of my brain under hypoglycemic stress.
i become aware of thresholds; i learn of artificial limits.

it feels good. why change what feels good?
i am warding off gluttony. i am virtuous.
deadly sin, gluttony, i vanquish thee.
i save myself, i redeem myself.
from what? irrelevant.

because i feel like it

donde está mi tarta, estoy yo. y si no te gusta, comete un cuerno. que recuerdo: un sombrero. un lobo. un trastero. verdadera penuria me pones delante. hace bastante que no como fiambres. y dicen que mi estancia no es nada que cuenta. no sé si verdad, no sé si mentira. la vida tendría astilla, espina. infinita es la vista cuando un monje alucina. ven, patina conmigo, mi amiga.

no salgo herida. no tomo bebida. ¿sandia fina, chiquilla? pondrías tus pies de puntillas. serías seria consciencia invalida. cartulina morada con rotulador asesino. montesa es la cabra, la honda, el biquini. salto de abajo, de lado a lado. el ser inocente que soy, se pregunta: ¿que haces, idiota? ¿qué piensas, valiente? ¿estás inconsciente? ¿te pones caliente, cual montaña en oriente?

apotheosized apotropaic apostasy

my eyes closed,
retreat to my church.

aggregator of power,
mind, rss of revolt.

soy | am not

without you, i am biology,
respiration, excretion.

i am computer,
input, output.

systemics,
principles, relationship.

i am chemistry,
elements, reaction.

without you, i am physics,
action, reaction.


you elevate me beyond biology.

beyond computer.

systemics.

beyond chemistry.

you elevate me beyond physics.


i feel a rose turn.
pearls of dew upon vermilion velvet.

a portrait turn.
pixels of love, perfection on paper.

[1] in a 2, fear of perdition.

now, your words turn.
ash upon cleansing white flame.

i feel you turn memory.
comfort of arms that brought me closer.

prisoner of self

for who am i to say what i do, or do what i say

cretinism, and defectiveness: an edited synapse*

as i read Charlotte Brontë's Villette, i came across the term cretin applied to a school girl of limited capacity. my image of the girl was tainted by the derogatory connotation of the term has in this, our generation. in Brontë's generation, "cretin" was a medical term, neutral.

perhaps "society caring, unquestioning, educated," would complete the synapse, for i believe society's education does not extend beyond the first definition of de.fec.tive due to_________(insert reason).

with such etymology as Marlena presents, defective becomes a mark of distinction, one i will proudly wear...forward. for now i shall savor my   d e f e c t i v e n e s s   secretly.

*Blogger d i s-functionality at the time of posting, caused the original version to disappear into electronic neverland. i present this synapse in edited form.

Requiem

Time numbs the memory, a loss of fidelity of synaptic analog recordings: the essence of the memory is there, but its intensity, clarity, range blend with the hiss of the tape passing over the read/write head. Add to this the surges-in-electrical-current-on-an-unprotected-IC-spiking-pops-onto-the-magnetic-media-through-the-write-circuit the bipolar brain causes, and...