Tag Archives: loss

Lost in translation

It’s hard to differentiate the sad from the happy if both are caused by the same entity. What more can a man do but be torn through each transition, wondering how the next day will develop.
Lost in his own mind, scurrying about for meaning and reason, alas, it vanished in the abyss that is his cerebral cortex. It comes as no surprise that retribution for the pain is paid in full, yet there’s nothing to say that isn’t even creating a difference.
Let the two divide and finally maintain a differential to diagnose each ailment and treat in such matters.

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The Poets Wept

The poets wept
The drinkers drank
The stars bled
And the rest fled

What’s left here in the end
Is simply the best of the worst
The unknown dreams of the ones who didn’t care
And the ghosts of the dead

All the bridges have burned
With no hope no religion
All money and only fame
Everyone else elated on the med

Stuck in a loop of a neo revolution 9
Making sense of rubbish in gibberish
A doped up generation coddled under mother’s care
Taking in everything that they are spoon fed

It was always going to end like this
Ashen skies and blood red seas
Walking skeletons and fat pigs
Divided by cracks created in dread

The dread of what was always to come
but no one listened to what the fools said

Because the poets just wept
The drinkers just drank
The stars just bled
And the rest just fled.

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Assisted bird suicides cause loathing

I sat there, match lit while pulling it towards my cig.
There they were….
Gliding around me, helpless prey
One landed upon my hand.
Glaring into my eyes, its yellow hues baffled me .
Taking the match from me, it struck it and edged towards me.
Lighting my cigarette, helping my eventual demise.
Neverending from the chain of one helping another.

Birds of a feather
Flock together.

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Sleight of Heart

I feel cold…inside and out. It was traumatizing just to even say such a thing to her. Letting out all of those thoughts was a true challenge, I almost couldn’t bear it. Yet there I sat, with my face adamant and stern. How could I even bring myself to continue the conversation, how could I add more insult to injury? Telling her I don’t know if I’m still in love with her was tragic enough, let alone me adding in the fact that I may be attracted to other women who share similar interests with myself…and to this day I will forever cherish Gavree in my heart. Sometimes I ask myself if she is the one for me, sometimes I think she only clings to our very relationship because “it is comfortable and feels right”. At the end of it all, I am confused still…yet I want to play it out to see how it is suppose to be in the end. Time will tell and The Lord will show me what Must do. Until then, I will follow my heart and try to fix the love that seems broken between us, hopefully the spark she once had in her eyes will return to ignite my passion towards her.

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APPLAUSE FOR TYRANNY (a poetic revenge opera): CONTENTS

This is a poetic story I wrote about anger and confusion.  

Loss and need.

Power and strength.

Good and bad.

Right and wrong.

Tyranny and revolution.

Hope and sadness.

I wrote this to overcome the fear of the early 2000’s that I had developed and in response to the repression that I had felt because of it. 

Over the next 5 weeks I will deliver each chapter.

I hope you enjoy.

…ON TO THE NEXT… 

APPLAUSE FOR TYRANNY

(A POETIC REVENGE OPERA )

Continue reading

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Wear House Eulogy Prose (a collection of quotes from Father John Misty)

At the cemetery picking out a eulogy for you

I should really let you sleep

but I’m so unsure of so many things.

Now, first house I roll up to

I tell them to get out.

I needed a reality, realer then theirs.

I settle down and abuse my lungs

smoking everything in sight

with every girl I’ve ever loved.

With what looks I have left I’ll put away a few

because everyman needs a companion,

someone to console him like you did for me.

These lonesome daughters console my empty soul

where no written word or ballad could ever appease.

So I allow myself to occupy the court but not my Queen.

Though, all I can do is long for your arms around me.

My heart lays heavy

as I know I’ll never make it to the other side.

Looking up I watch you change in the mirror,

but then all the lonesome daughters appear there.

Each of their hearts beating in a sequent dress.

I got hung up on this anti-religion even though I know it’s a waste.

One day I’m gonna take my life back

and put my past in a trunk.

For now I’ll enjoy this cathedral made of sweat, booze, nudeness, and smoke.

I’m no doctor but there is something about the way whips are held

that helps me feel good again.

Looking up, I see you standing in the doorway,

and none of the lonesome daughters appear.

Could you really be there?

You say quietly with so much menace, “Turn that awful mouth breathing down.

It harbors the man’s inevitable death wish!

Run girls, run.”

There’s something about the way she empties a few clips.

How you point that thing at me.

What choice do I have now?

You put me in the trunk of the van

and take me to the old wear house

whispering to me not to worry, “I’m going to kill you.”

You take me out, throw me in a chair, strap me in so tight,

I whip it out

Screaming that I was in love with this woman again.

You say, “I don’t care for you but I’ll leave behind something that won’t decompose.”

I scream how I remember now that I loved you again

but you have a way with pointing that thing at me.

I’ll never make it to the other side.

I have no faith except for in the way you know how to empty a few clips

and where my body will lead me.

Even with blackness drifting in like night

I’m still so unsure of so many things

but my organ’s are screaming “slow down, man!”

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