Old and Alone Through the City
Old and alone, autumn wanders bare through the city,
A smoke of memories coiling around the streetlamps,
The woman dissolved into the arms of another mirage,
And the dog grew old begging for the warmth of days.
The child who was never born wanders through the fog,
A bodyless shadow knocking at autumn's gates,
And the wind and the sun, old brothers of a lifetime,
Lean on each other on the steps of forgetting.
The old organ-grinder, with his leg of wood and dream,
Cranks out a melody rusted like a wound,
The old prostitute sells her shadow, the unclosed
Coffin of her longing under a pagan moon.
Someone in a graveyard whispers a song of wax,
An old head trembles, hollow as a scorched bell tower,
The tree shakes its leaves like a final summer,
The idiot from the commercial smiles, a wounded mask.
The whole city trembles, full of loneliness,
Crowds of old young people flow like a river of wax,
All of them, everything, old and alone, carrying in their chests a fortress
Of silences fallen to their knees, under the same bitter snowfall.
It’s endless.
The words pour out of bodyless lips; honey oozing onto my burning, sheathed wounds.
Am I what they tell me I am?
The question expands through my membranes, inflating my insides until I detonate with the black of their degradation.
The sugarcoated insults hang in the air.
The sweetness intoxicates my silence until the noise implodes, a deliberate provocation to the vacuum of my consciousness.
I don’t want to be what they tell me I am.
Though, the vast, eternal plea for empathy betrays the feigning, defiant arch of my brow.
The hair follicles echo my hallucination of faith.
I wish for anything but the death of my soul;
A lack of voice.
For once i smile and dance as i look at my reflection in mirror
oh the clothes fit my body so nicley, i like it
i like it when i look at me and feel something thats not making me want to curl up and cry
I dance and sing whatever song is playing
i dont care what it is id like to dance and sing for a bit
my shirt flows so nicley along the movments of my body
my jeans look so good on my legs as i dance
turns out I really can feel great
then i sit down and try not to cry
i know once my clothes are off ill cry and want to die
why cant i always look as nice as i do now?
I saw you as one more adventure
Not knowing you're a great treasure
That all life Expect to find
I thought you weren't that special.
And today I understand that I'm a shadow
Bodyless and soulless Because you're not
And I lost the magic And valid I understood that you taught me What it's like to love
If I ever find you I'll tell you what you meant to me.
The only person in this world That made me happy is you
I'll tell you I love you and I will miss you that I can't
Being without you, Huero I'll tell you I can't anymore
That my biggest mistake was not to fight harder
It was the day I let you get away and go with your ex
I'll ask you to come back but my life is over
I learned that You are my blessing in this darkness...
Cleopatra my queen
Very old,cornerstone is me, oh um. Beef me i kill
Will it wasn’t be narcist be yet i crossed me my own childless womb
Be largactyl. Be throat roar i shunt me a naked penile
Weep it blunder i shalt be I naked me a bath beit lambtales
Beyet I kill me oh um marcus anthony
Be my dead daggerless Quatro is the me oh do loath it ye
Tender it killed my tart be yet guile he man a gloat
Be laughed it sodium,weep it is tenderised shant e’ mean dick thing is cut my lice
Wept me yet i shalt be laughed Julius Caesar. Do mine is counterfeit bodyless me lust she naptelli
Breaker odd he yet die my own adder it can me be desirous guard
Killer me platter my headless roiba peniled be vast me asp me, alone be he beastlllie me ownerous asp like placade
bastard baste me I jel it in irony. be thy impervious sumakutra hail it defiles my utter deciet
Burning rocks had
a near miss. The
questions splatter
the blood-
to inspire and break
you inside and out.
Unbecoming, to end the
relationship. The story?
begins of an introvert.
The ungreen grass waits
for your wet toes,
to breathe again.
The blood-money was
very high, after the?
violent end of a
blade run.
My pillow is soaked of
a moonfall. The anguish
of a bodyless grave
was haunting.
Satish Verma
tickle foot touched (smile).
bird like nesting
in transience....your lips part....
leaving that indentedness
(of place)-- unfolded,
disarray of jeans become
your shape....bodyless blue,
(untouchable) textures
reflected in amber
Do deaf people hear their thoughts in words?
Do blind folks dream in color?
Do desert dwellers dream of rain
and Eskimos of Summer?
If they're no cobs, who makes their webs?
What keeps huge ships afloat?
And don't you find it creepy, too
the sideways eyes of goats?
I'm sick of listening to myself!
That voice inside my head,
incessantly rehashing
the buried and the dead.
How do people meditate
and silence all their thoughts,
while mine's in constant chaos,
fighting battles long since lost.
I pray for peace and quiet,
but the talking just goes on
and sometimes throws in pictures
like a slide show all gone wrong.
I fear that even death won't stop it
and I will not be free,
bodyless but chattering
into eternity.
That would be Hell to be alone
with ME for company,
with nothing to distract my mind
like books or a TV.
No wonder people turn to drugs,
maybe that stops all the noise,
but one can't stay drugged up constantly,
can't survive in such a void.
I
long
for
sleep.
The tripping lights,the spinning sound,
At long last,the switch was found.
Complicated situations, feeling the vibrations,
Of the numbing sensation of the mind in control
Of this bodyless soul.
Being prodded and poked while being provoked,
My walls came tumbling down,
And I couldn't even make a sound.
This price i'm paying it doesn't seem right.
Is my weight worth gold for whats really being sold?
It's too late she cries, tossing and turning,
Hating her own demise.
Would she have been more wise
If she could have seen,
The hurt in these blue eyes,
The chances that could have been.
I never had a chance to tell my side of the story.
The moments that could have been,
Our crowning moment of glory.
My dreams are shattered, I feel battered and bruised.
I once felt welcomed, now I feel used.
With one last gasp of air, my soul slipped away,
My mummy had her abortion, on my 1st birthday.
No
no name
frozen rose
lost cause
and so simpleminded that it is
mindless
Quickstep my dear
that or Slow fox
no labdance
(my ***** is only for pissing)
I own 6 nights and 8 days
they are only mine
(and yours
and yours
and yours
and yours)
need more
but the bank is closed
and my cash is spent
on cigarettes, beer and uncomfortable shoes
made in China
by a heartless little girl
who humped the neighbour’s son
and then just ignored him
for no reason at all
he killed him self
(who wouldn’t?)
Empty stone
frozen rose
lost cause
roadless journey
bodyless traveller
no need to hitchhike
you will get picked up
Heartless little girl
no name
no face
Winter here I come (and where the f.... is my Igloo?)
Broken bones
happy smile
today
green meadow and tired back
will meet
these trees never give up
(but refuses to tell me how they manage).
Lars Eriksen 2005
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