Mists

(archives)

This Great Love

This great love.
Now dusty and archived.
Once lively with the joy of the future possibilities,
Hangs like a brake beneath me.

I wander as in a perpetuum of my dreams,
Unable to break this cycle of loneliness,
Unable to establish meaning for my life,
I’ seeing this existence as though I’m no longer a participant.

He longs to feel the warm sun of another’s passion raising him,
To reciprocate. He’s known this previously,
He’s felt the wholeness that comes with knowing someone else is there,
He’s given as much back.
When did he loose that?
Does that feeling not emanate towards him still?
When did he stop reciprocating?

I wander in a perpetuum of my dreams,
Looking to my thoughts for solace,
Looking to my thoughts for a sign,
I need to make a move and make a change.

That great love.
Where did I put you?
And where is the next volume?
The one that talks of freedom, passions, feeling.

The Doubter

To be the fastest; the smartest; the bravest; the greatest,
This all seems very appealing to me.

To be the nihilist; the self-deprecator; the self-implicator; the self-denier;
I tell myself: This makes no sense to me.
But in the recesses of my mind,
Where I know what it means to be me,
In that dark and misty void,
I scream freedom of misery, of contemplation, of belief.
And I see this in me.

My conscious mind plays tricks on me,
Through tired eyes and erratic thoughts,
A vision hidden in the mists.
A vessel presenting my soul to the heavens,
Is sucked under the deadening ichors that flow beneath.

So all is lost to me,
All that could be.

Taken down, once again, emptiness evermore.

Stride forward, pointlessly, onwardly, in vein,
And when I die who will remember my name?

So live this life day to day.

Hollow man centre stage,
Love me……
Please.

Egregious boy

Egregious boy,
Not quite a man,

Soft lines,
Soft eyes.

Promise.

Out of the darkness,
Out of the shadows,
Out of the night time within me.

My Isolation?

They cannot see me like his.
My weaknesses.
My hurtings.

Who am I?

Venture forth.
Venture out?
Adventuring whereverness?

Egregious boy,
So undefined.

Bring down your sun,
Into my night.

Sleepless Nights and Bleary Eyed Mornings

With sleepless nights,
The conscious stream seems unreal.
Plays with your memory.

I am embattled,
And he is dug in.
A war of attrition raging in my mind.

I am so capable,
So very capable.
But when you’re fighting yourself all the time,
It’s difficult to see the horizon.

White mist….. I’m so haunted.
And through the mist, always exhaustion.

When it comes on,
When it builds up,
When the tension becomes all consuming and prevalent.
When I can’t sleep.
I like it.

Then I can fight.
No.
Not then but when.

I don’t like loosing to myself,
But it’s a propensity we all face.
I am going to be a terrible old man.
Maybe I should accept that people like me,
Should never get to that stage.

Rocks in my pockets;
Pills stitched into my sleeves;
A Swiss Army knife concealed in my shoe;
Anything that will prevent me a further breath.

The fearful absolution.
Head held high.
The drum beat of my heart in the darkness,
The march of my life.

The waking time,
The reckless hours,
The bleary eyed mornings.

Time to begin again,
They must not know this,
They cannot know what I am.

The contradiction of my own enigma,
A stranger in this world,
Even to myself.

No Words

It was brief, that’s for sure,
But filled with connection and allure.
The void seemed bridged by tacit understanding.
Eyes wide, no words – but communicating.

An unintentional moment,
With irrational clarity,
Harboured dreams,
That floated amongst our disparity.

My new tragedy,
And I saw it so clear,
When you grimaced with resentment,
As they approached, you welled a tear.
And so to my detriment; all time was lost there.
Stolen and squandered,
Wanted to scream “Is this fair?”

Then came my pain,
The very next day,
It was just before you wandered away.
I’d rehearsed in my head,
But t’was all in vein.
Silence and tactility,
Our parting moment’s name.

Twilight Takes Hold

Twilight takes hold and the feasting begins,
A celebration of our pagan rites,
Osseous kingdom of pain,
And we shall burn in the flames,
Satanic verse to be chanted tonight.

A cavalcade will come,
The charge of Thunder will be done,
Lupine cries pierce the midnight air,
Sweet red wine on her lips,
And my hands on her hips,
And the fragrance of sodden hair.

Faces go by, Our victims do cry,
Temptation sweeps through the night,
Propensity to hate and be destroyed,
Contrasts to the vulpine fight.

We enter into Eden through the gates of despair,
To pluck the fruit from the tree,
Take one bite, climb another height,
I shall give a florid memor’ of me.

The multitude close upon the fire,
We inhale deep the wood-smoke,
Our vision speak prophecy,
Of malice and of human slump.

Dawn takes hold, and our cycle concludes,
We whisper requirements for the dead,
Remembering what has been done,
And what our twisted prophets have said.

Whispering Words

I open the book and the trouble starts,
Whispering words of warning from the dark,
I chanted my spell my misfortune grew around,
Sacrifices of blood stains this devils ground,
We read our instructions and carry them out,
We cross the line onto the next bout.

The night darkens our visions implode,
The crush of the likeness, who’s feeling alone?
A crimson nightmare, the mind is impure,
I stand before this heinous creation with his swathing allure.

A Nightmare Begins

My nightmares begin, I cannot condone,
For what I have done I must now disown,
A vision, a memory of what has transgressed,
I quenched my thirst on an evil temptress.

I have become what she did create,
And my lust is now equal only to my hate,
The mirror burns, I cannot look,
I only see the hollow, from which she took.

My sanguine addiction: my only care.
On the blood stained alter I’d sit and stare.
Fantasies undone. And undead;
Their unholy screams echo in my head.

Sex is primal, I see myself there.
And from a distance. From My alter;
I may only sit and stare.

Life’s conquest.
I cannot cope.
An unspoken mission;
Without hope.

Destitution…. A painful fear.
The debauch seductress;
Sheds and unwanted tear.

A savage world;
Raped and scared many times.
We look for prophetic men;
To lead the blind.