Apologies
If I say I'm sorry
I will get my way
Your thinking to sway
Apology to look good
Narcissism under the hood
For me everyone will root
Apology to provoke guilt
Creates self-doubt to the hilt
Blame to you will shift
Apologies made from half truth
My own feelings to soothe
Everyone thinks I stand on truth
Apologies to put it in the past
Knowing fake peace won't last
Over you a shadow will cast
Apologies made but nothing changes
To break you down in stages
Slowly your mind deranges
Apologies not from the heart
When you never state your part
Will always tear us apart
By Cathrin Stuart
As night falls, a dark melody
fills the air with a feeling so deep
it is the song of a dark rose
tweeting near a corner fence.
Dahlia, a withered pale woman
lies on a granite slab, still and serene
The song transforms the air, calm
infuse her chill cells, pungent.
Cells overhaul false refluxes
taint her veins with lethal hues
rose rummages the window
like a creeper it probes in disguise.
A noise of a phantom stirs in the void
The deadbeat song reaches its peak
undermining her heart waves
the roaming restless phantom roars.
"Who is the next cadaver to join me?''
then dark rose turns from grey to white
the source of the call slowly deranges
with the rise of a promising dawn.
The sunrays pack her vitals with life
a dark rose is reborn, its music unheard
may *Prana saves helpless cadavers once again
a wish for a dark song seems wanted.
*Prana, a Sanskrit word meaning breath, a life-giving force.
Death's voice deranges my mind.
It feels as if the clock above my head has begun to unwind.
A decade and beyond,
But only now am I beginning to feel alarmed.
If only I had a magic wand.
14, 15, to where have my stolen memories disappeared?
Thursday, Friday-Monday, Tuesday...
Did Saturday and Sunday run away?
Oh please, in my dreams allow me to stay,
Times' endless cycle has made me weary.
Dear lord, haven't you heard me pray?
Atleast set a bounty, any price I will pay.
From dawn to when the moon is reborn, I've never witnessed twilights' haze.
For all that I crave is a single interlude-
To be free from times' curse.
For every time I open my eyes, the ticking will only invigorate.
Perhaps for an hour, a minute even, if time didn't wane...
Then maybe, just maybe... Would I be able to rest at ease.
Free from the burdens labeled as responsibilities... Only then,
Can I simply exist in a serene state of seclusion.
Alone on this horizon, where I was born.
Left with a vision; the glorious sight of a conclusion.
Now I will have found my reason.
With that newfound clarity...
I shall live in harmony with the ticking that once daunted me.
Utopia enchants me
reality deranges me
That's why I write poetry
Put aside all the worthless pride,
reawaken a conscience that's dormant;
adapt a concept that unites, not divide!
Chiding never scolds the faults implied,
the dark side can't be hidden internally;
no honor is given to the weeping bride!
How noble is it to declare untold truths with a fiddle,
liberating it from the abyss it was entrapped;
virtuousness is defined by a loyalty so irrefragable!
No valid answer is given to impertinent questions,
it's wiser to avoid goons than agree with them;
anger is the rage that boils only in wrathful souls!
Not listening is avoiding the philosophy of the learned,
crucible failures could have been avoided with shrewdness;
who revels now: the triumphant or the humiliated?
Absence of guidance, in the form of spirituality,
is harmful and deranges the character of the obstinate;
their fallacious temperament equals stupidity!
Commitment to strides is not fiddling with the hallow brain,
vanquish the erroneous thoughts and breathe easily;
defeat is not the final reminder that victory is hard to attain!
Absurd Walls:
By Mark Miller 03/08/2018
I sit in wait,
For melancholic relief
Consumes self-trust resistance.
Out from the clear and into the black shatter dust.
Although, I cannot explain its purpose or meaning for there is none.
Awareness prevents comprehension to the future posture rectitude.
Only leftovers illuminate on that origin which brings me to this momentary lapse.
Where time and space have no relevance.
The feeling of structure fades into the microwave static.
Only the emotion healing sustains.
Somewhere, out there in the cosmos lies the basal complexional of coexistence.
The complicit deranges.
The peaceful transits,
Our group comfort loneliness
Between the minimal change of selves,
Through the pulsar's suddenness
I return and am one with myself,
Time wraps around the feeling dissipates,
Gone like childhood memory from everywhere.-
It scorches; it sears
It burns in the veins
It maddens; it deranges
It gives exquisite pains
It entices; it provokes
It lures to its lair
It boils; it combusts
It lays the heart bare
It consumes; it exhumes
The forbidden dreams
It demands; it commands
That you follow its schemes
It explodes; it erupts
In a firework display
It throbs; and pulsates
You can’t get away
It moans; it screams
It gives you no choice
It pants; it groans
It gives love a voice
It’s passion; it’s desire
It’s pure ecstasy!
It’s wonder; it’s magic
Come live it with me.
Damn this isle of mine...
solitary awkwardness surrounds
stifles, and strangles, and estranges
deranges, debases, encases, entraps
...singing this song lonely crazy
Damn this isle of mine...
coast eroding on every side
an intense sunshine serves to blind...
surrounded by sea, yet cruelly dry
squinting eyes and palate dies
Damn this isle of mine...
Mind gone aimless wander
condemned goner
seeing life that flashed reckless past
and gone...tone deaf swan song
beats on with insensitive rhythm
Damn this isle of mine...
Ever lacking human amenities
conflicting identities murky and sly
my own private Hyde sleuths like private eyes
questioning my reason with childish perspective
this madman my sole companion
this isle will kill me before I die
Take a sampling of interest
Dice slice spice and wrap it
Slow warm in an oven of love
Until firm with a bubbly crust
Set out to cool in evening ranges
Carefully balanced
Lest it deranges
Yearning and turning to lust
Flavor with arduous ferment and fear
Casting and sprinkling
All you hold dear
Then serve it forever
Bright clean and clear
On a platter of innocent trust
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