Chasing Shadows

Attempting to write from musical imagery



Spread to sail like palms against the wind
Bearing down such lush green gazes
Melancholy scent drips from every end
Filling body and air with dancing hazes
Acceptance swells my throat,
liquidation of reservations.

Vibrancy fans across the skyward plain
Marble view cracks beneath splintered hands
Silently webbed dream, wizened to pain,
"To be cut down is to be where one lands"
And I stand quietly thinking
how nature nurtures in death

Insignificant shit we mumble to ourselves/Mumbling shit to ourselves insignificantly

Stock, barrel, trigger, sight;
I won't be a single part of this weapon.
Bread, shelter, discipline, honor;
hand extends like an olive branch
grip colder than a bullet's steel caress

even if I could die for bags of cash falling from the sky,
their only consequence would be to fill holes too vast to walk
much less shout.

Don't act modest. You flex and bear fangs at your master's call,
like some deranged show-dog, calmness cultivated from fear...
You've overstepped your bounds, cannibal.
The old beast sees a man in him,
but this monster recognizes a devil.

Give your bullshit protection to your made-up enemies. They're the ones who need it the most. You won't buy my future, even if that's what it costs to keep it from you. Society's freedom is an illusion and an absolute lie.

Ever interpret your nightmares? It's the part of your conscience that has accepted reality, trying to make the rest of your brain understand despite their emotional implications. Mine made me realize: I'd rather mop floors every night than cosily sit in one armchair on your dollar.

Regards.

Pandora's Box

Lucifer was always my favorite character in the Bible. My mother often calls me her Angel, her Sunshine. All the same she'll remind me of what a monster I am, or was, or can be; I've lost concern. Sympathy for the Devil? That's what I feel, my lune. It's like being reassembled from the ground up, your presence. An unfiltered light pours between us. Its vitality is forgotten like a thirst consumed by hunger. We dine alone, wishing only to drink together. While she prays to God, I mock myself as a great lightbearer. Cast out of Heaven and reincarnated, ready to unite a people forgotten by our Lord. I'll look omniscience in its slowly lifting eyes, and hold a mirror. When the Father we've birthed evolves into our likeness, he too will fight a suffocating battle with Self. When its fury can no longer be contained, this Monster will mercilessly ravage its tumors, painfully unaware they are but symptoms.