Of a sanding drill,
Sadistic, yet alluring,
New flesh,
Shining and buffed
Growing and changing,
Rich cocoa,
Gaining personality
As time ticks on,
Given
To an old, cold
Mechanical heart,
Scratched and battered
After withstanding the trials
Of ages and abuse,
Battery after battery,
It remained faithful,
Under heat, sand
And the master’s hand
It is transformed
Into a heart of gold
Author's note:
Lately, I've been feeling...well, less sad, though not exactly happy...so I give you this poem (and the accompanying Video from youtube)
Afterhours
Well past the final breath of the bell, hallways forlorn,
When shifting shadows trickle in
From every entrance, establishing
Their domain, light flees, all but
The dogged rays emanating from
The rooms of the dedicated,
It is through these solemn halls I meander,
Aimlessly, the dark welcoming,
Honoring me as a frequent, welcome guest,
Honoring me with their presence,
Caressing my skin,
I wander, no longer alone,
Waltzing with my host, out of courtesy,
To the lonely piano and violins of a solitary man,
Each step, another sliver of arrowshaft driven into my heart,
Bleeding passion, for blood,
Seeing naught but a dim hallway,
But witnessing judgments cast upon me
By mute shadows
Looking on as I dance slowly, gracefully
With one of their own,
Caressing each other’s skin,
Holding each other close,
Her soft flesh against mine,
Hearing nothing but the silent cries of existence,
But listening to our private symphony,
As well as the gentle, unsaid laughter of my hosts,
Laughing and chatting amongst themselves,
Celebrating their temporary conquests,
Each struck snowy key, each bowed brass string, syncopating my steps,
Each note slowly weaving my hangman’s noose,
Each note, magnifying the seductive smile of my partner,
I playfully resisting her advances,
She, taking it in good fun,
Knowing, she will have me someday
Caution; Love
The huntress
With eyes like the abyss
That draws you in like the surging tide
As the sentience of your stare
Has its champion slain,
And its forces routed,
Power slowly draining away
Eyes that seek you
Eyes that dance you
As a marionette
Tied to the strings of fate,
Binding you to the pattern,
Drawing you through
The twist and turns of life
Whom you beg for release,
Yet wish for chains,
She grants you your wish,
Then tears your heart out as her rightful prize
And thrusting a dagger of ash in its place
Leaving you to live
That sweet addicting drug, felt deep in the night
Taken to ease reality’s burdens,
To hear the sound of silence:
The universe groaning, crying out
Falling, on deaf ears
Deus ex machina
The force so strong that death itself
Is cast aside,
As there is no beginning
Nor end
Just existence
The light seen through the mists ethereal
And the mists themselves as well;
The darkest of nights
That embraces you as friend
As the shadows dance around your form
Lending themselves
As your fine cloak
And the searing light
That banishes them all
So great,
Not the mightiest word,
That plays the heartstrings
Nor the finest Sound,
That instructs the soul
Dares to describe;
That tears apart
The prison that is reality
And brings us to the great frontiers
That is the depths of our mind
Sweet delusion
