I wear three crowns,
Three rings on my fingers:
Runes on right signifies the old;
A single Celtic infinity knot the new;
And the shadow of a ghost haunting.
I wear three crowns,
Three countries in my heart:
The old which I can never escape;
The new in which I am settling in;
And the one-leafed that will never be.
I wear three crowns,
Three hopes of a future sun:
Wells of ink to never dry;
Trees providing vegan parchment;
And a heart to find the reason to go on.
I cover myself in tarpaulin,
Like a fish out of water
In finer cloth, scissored
By merchants of fame
And otherworldly
Fortunes,
I cover my weary head
Against the onslaught of drops
Of drops, of winter wonder wet
Unfrozen: a hell in high heels
Never worn,
I banish my final daemon,
Like Lucifer - like Izrael,
Begone, be gone and never come
Near my world and blackened sun,
In white - the potent powder puff
In earnest a secret horror flushed
Like northern mosquitoes,
Silent killers hovering above
Wanting blood, my blood,
Beneath a tattered tarpaulin of old.
I wrap myself in tarpaulin,
My sullen head so sweetly scarfed,
I venture out into a world
Unwilling to accept me
And the ways of worms,
Crawling up through my fertile soil
To reach the light of a single star,
The last of a lucid night beckons
My final sin in betrayal,
To go beyond, to venture afar
Where blue pills line the pockets
Of manly men and the donkeys
They ride into their
Trembling towns,
I go, I set out, I head towards
Their lights in search of truth
And consequence of inaction,
Of distraction, of reactions
To anything close to life
Without a screen in sight.
Sometimes I find myself staring
At a screen, hoping something
Will move, will break the monotony
Of staring at a screen; the silence
Of a static screen blaring
White noise
White hope
White sorrow
In a binary world
Where only castles
Are made of sand
Where only the wee hours
Count towards my overtime:
Sometimes I find myself staring
Just because
I can
Unpredictable world:
Unpredictable words,
The flow of fickle letters –
Trickling or raging storms;
Unpredictable words,
Written but unpublished –
Unconsidered yet shared,
Regretted but too deeply nailed:
Crucified upon a polished pine
Surface.
Unpredictable world:
Unpredictable words,
The voice of the silent man –
Tongue tied and tired;
Unpredictable words,
Wanting but undesirable –
Unspoken yet longed for,
Ravaged dystopian dream:
Corsets and neckties
Spinning.
Unpredictable world:
Unpredictable words,
Unspoken truths
In hiding.
Hi, hey, you
Real person, heart filled
With beats: believable.
You, you, you
Is special; believe me
As the robots link and like,
Like droids left
To their own devices:
Lacking artificial intelligence
To really care about writing,
Unlike you.
Hey you, long-term acquaintance,
Never doubt I weed you out
From the droning
Of the clicking robotic moaning;
I see
I care
I a-pre-ci-ate
You
Staying close
I have a thing with partings:
Finding therein a something akin
To a death desperately present;
Like an earthquake easily burying
The life I had before, a life
Lost and never returning;
Memories fading
As the self slowly shatters,
Memories within
Unshared and unequivocally
Pointing towards an end;
As the thread of hope
Weaved from the strings
Of dreams, from the last
Rays of sunshine mirrored
In the eyes of the child
Left behind.
I have a thing with partings,
Being left behind,
The others going on
As the self withers -/:
Death wears high heels
Death wears leather thongs
Death wears my heads
Crushed under the dream
Of innocence becoming
More
Than
Wanting
More
Than
Needing
More
Than
Longing
For the finality of a life
Of dread, of deeds done
In the name of doing,
Of the making of a life
In search of multiple endings
For the sake of dreaming
And betterment of men,
Before the Lady in waiting –
Wearing high heels of death
Every tutorial leaves me with a sour aftertaste, a question of why, and then regret, for attending; pretending to be something I’m not, and then the tutor’s praise in a language I do not comprehend, yet the marks gives me hope, to go on, to progress, to accept I am indeed learning; learning that learning is hard, not like work where I got paid to play, to learn that which was already known; this is new, this is different, yet similar to creating, exploring a world where finding the meaning from a single word might be the reason for being; a distinction – or a plain failure.
A Nobel Reception
A reception worthy of a tale my Lords
A tale I say: forget this not but pass along.
As we set sail on a journey most perilous
Towards the naked north in a solid ship
Of your own kind sponsorship;
Across the borderless sea
Rough and ready,
We took aim for their archipelago
The native tribes of troubles
And their inevitable demise.
The journey lasted but a five full moons
And we found us on the longest day
Slowly approaching a ragged land
Of cliffs and cliffs stretching heavenly.
Movement of bodies was spotted soon
Atop the trees of the native spruce variety.
As far as friendly receptions go
We received the most nobel of greetings:
As far as eyes could see
Scattered skulls and seared skin
Was all that remained
Of us and your once solid ship.
My Lords, my Lords? To what purpose
Is your silent response helping my cause?
My Lords? Is my appearance not evidence
Of this most worthy of telling. Am I too you
Not entirely visible.
