Long Castle Poems
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Vivid flashbacks from bloodshed battles
his soul still ravaged by devious dictators,
cries from fallen comrades still echo in his mind,
but he continues to walk upon a path of pandemonium.
Reluctantly he ventures forward with
vengeance portrayed through embers
engulfed within his frenzied eyes -
reflecting his mother's irreversible tears.
He is no mercenary nor a moneymaker,
just a repentant drifter, preparing for bedlam.
His purpose in sight, he closes his eyes,
but struggles to erase his thoughts,
as the sins of his ancestry inflict his mind.
Angels attempt to light his path with harmonic chords,
but demons cause havoc strumming broken strings.
Entering the kingdom of dry fountains,
where God has no influence,
he is afraid to inhale its corrupt pollutant air.
Charcoal clouds rumble,
before horizons shed unwelcome tears.
Before him platinum priests preach,
as court jesters dance with sly grins,
hiding metaphorical daggers behind their backs.
To his right overfull hospitals have no beds,
as penniless patients plead to be cured.
To his left the self proclaimed vain king
sits on his cardboard throne,
throwing dollars into a blazing fire place.
To his side his tyrannical hypocritical queen
hides behind her simulated smile,
oblivious to her narcissistic prince's incest desires
towards her clueless imbecilic princess.
It's an endless loop of greed cultivating corrupt seed,
which continues to breed nefarious creed.
Miserable masses attempt to break free,
but their liberation is dissected by cretinous henchmen.
In the marketplace of Machiavellian thieves,
merchant pawns auction fragmented dreams.
Sold to the biggest idiot!
His eyes full of disbelief, now rage with anarchy!
Intoxicated knights raise their half empty glasses,
as he calmly walks into this man made sand castle.
Gifts the cunning conniving cook some cyanide,
which he empties into his delectable broth.
Both watch as the elevated ones savour it like dogs,
perishing dramatically to their deserved downfall.
Beyond his childhood playground,
now with rusty swings and slides,
he places a crimson rose upon his mother's grave,
kissing her untouched headstone.
Expressionless he walks into the distance,
as storms wash away weak foundations.
Silent One
25 July 2018
It's about time we talk of ruins.
So, let us talk, for you never know,
How long ears of hope will remain receptive.
Your lips are missing, and your kisses fall,
Like ripe plums and tint my confession,
Like coffee stains with smell of rust.
Looking back, dreams had stories,
About laughters blooming in dews on trembling grass,
With roots growing into layers of blue skies.
That dark sweater you began knitting,
Lies lifeless by a woollen ball,
Like buried half of a rainbow.
My greys are silvery now, and my smile
Looks like a scar, but my heart
Keeps shredding dead skins.
Footprints covered by caddish shadows
Of hubristic tongues,
Never to be retraced, and
The wish to carry your whispers beyond life,
Scavenged by beaks of time,
Is nothing but a piece of
History's torn chorion.
Entangled in my pensive repentance,
Memory of a girl (assuming),
Whose playful steps ruefully erased
Even before she was assisted into the world,
Stares back from an obsolete painting.
I sense blood seething in my veins,
But with no ill-will.
If only i could stop this hour from passing away,
And touch life one more time,
Gently and wisely, perhaps sweet palpitations
Would be heard knocking from within.
Lying in the heap of fallen bricks
Of dilapidated castle of Eros,
Where, once upon a time,
Our romance was folktale for angels and fairies,
I'm supposed to be bleeding the high-noon sun
To feed yesterday's vampiric fleas.
My body no longer lives on bread and grains,
But on tears and prayers, and
Keeps on living, surprising the undertaker and
my foes,
Who begin to think
I am here to stay indefinitely.
So, I labour to hasten my swan song
To gladden those who want to witness my exit.
The yarn with which
I began weaving a flag,
Has been sold to brothels of politics,
Where patriotism is only a slang
In perorations of capricious pimps.
My nights are haunted by ghosts
Of betrayed slogans
I once coined on fisting graffiti.
Standing amidst graves of words
Spoken inconspicuously,
I see soldiers placing putrid shocks and
Ugly boots
On books strewn across the floor
Of my old school's library
Which is now a fortified barrack.
But when I see tombs sleeping like babies,
In quietness of a cemetery,
I beg you -
Don't let me die without a wound, and
Even if it is in pretensive nostalgia,
Bury me with bloodstained kiss.
A fairyland fable is a magic table floating around but nit with a rallying cry. That is purely reserved for several synchronised cruise ships whose sunbathing missions thwart many a delivery driver. It is with great interest that an interest is neither a monetary aim at a bank or an inked out financial score singing a palate of possibilities. So go call the cat then. Go on. Meow meow. Dinner time. There you go. Fresh tuna is very scared now. Oh dear. And all the little flakes hard at work minced flesh in factories never really has a rest does it? Dilapidated dog during digging. And a great big wish from a ten thousand kilo cake is a celebrated glow in an outer solar sphere. Clap them all. Many cakes many spheres. Loud claps. And shouting at the mail is equivalent to eating beans on toast at several hundred miles an hour upside down in a bucket. It is in many weathers that a tall lanky snail circles a circuit in a rally car. Very very fast. Well done. There is a crown and a bursting champagne bottle whose antics on the plane were quite rude and non productive. However showering the podium with released bubble is quite a feat of engineering and requires precision mathematics too. So never ever become intoxicated if holding a compass, a text book, six lined sheets of paper, ten pencils and an organic cheeseburger with salad. Marketing making money moguls merry. And the swimming curry is out for the day in the lake occasionally resting on a Papadopoulos papadum boat who whips a papaya to create a cocktail. How rather quaint that is isn't it? How many radiuses are there in a pear? And how many tents can be made from a single pair of tights? These are highly significant questions to ask at a time when the antipepiscides are at the protest. Rioting. And tootling along the lane came a little green car whose plan was ever only to drink copious amounts of tea at the inn of then. Saviour not a sanctified secretion of a sweet set of stagnant striped silk. And enter no password of hi dee hi on a billboard for frames are allowing much to pass by over the cliffs. So watch out if carrying ten cars, a wobbly bus, and a twelfth century castle for it is the marksman who are marking a book from a diocese, a school and a university of agha banks. Couple that then. Great. Hahaha fantasy fig floating around hahaha banana bandana bringing bee balancing. Xxxxx metropolitans z
Form:
I wonder today
As I sift through the sands
And peer through the depths of other peoples verbalized talents
Works of intricate emotion and stanzas of hyperboles oxymoron’s and similes
and metaphor
When I refuse to welcome you to my world
When you stumbled all this way
And I show you how to clip an angel’s wings
and you relate to the angel
Even though you have soo many inner demons
I’m not sure you know what to say
So I sit here in the silence
And stutter to myself
I lay in bed at night and talk to myself
I hang pictures on the wall to inspire me to push me
and listen to things that will drive me to become another
But when you open this chapter of the metaphor I will upon your sleeve
When you walk through that open door
And are not too sure of what I mean to my soul mate when I say
that one day in heaven his experience will be a love note from me
I'm not sure you know what to say
Soo many of you are of few words
and soo few of you are of many
The angels are soo far away
And the four demons, my invisible enemies
are always on this merry go round
too busy to stop the roller caster where I find myself
Dizzy I am
Confused I am
Abstract and bizarre
Creatively thrown away by my fairytale godmother I dream
To remind me
I am a man of some higher power god
And instant gratification isn’t necessarily what I need
from the race of a reflection that doesn’t understand why it cowers
Instead of receives
While I clip the angels and fool the demons with the thoughts
and words of the wise and how I hate more than you
You become my poetry with hearts on your sleeve
a valentine I cant send demanding healthcare
for Christmas before all we get is Halloween
But when your eyes roll back into your head
and you try to resurrect what I express and bring me to life
through twisting my words that cut like a knife and carve marble stone
into gargoyles that guard castle gates
In this royal palace where no compass will help you find your way
and my thought seem soo far away
The feathers fall to the floor
The soldiers look down at their weapons realizing they are still little boys
but intoxicated now and forced to the realization
This is how we raised them to be men with awards for serial killing
Of stars and stripes
I'm not sure you know what to say
These castle walls are cracked and moonlight seeps through, i hug my knees to my chest as
a sob threatens to break out of my throat. My skin is pale and thin; my bones stab through
my skin-nearly breaking it, I would look like a scraggly porcelain doll if I ever looked
in the mirror, but being trapped in this damned place for however long I have no access to
such a luxury.
My eyes are wet, my hair is tangled and knotted-unbrushed for at least three weeks. My
fingers resemble the bone underneath. I hear wolves call from under the ten foot tower, I
shake in my corner and wish to get a nights sleep that I know would never come. The marks
on my back from the whip stings like hell.
My limbs hurt; feeling stretched as if they were pulled by horses. A pain in my skull just
behind my eyes pounds rhythmically like hoofbeats galloping drunkenly on the hard
cobblestone streets of London.
The silver glow of the moon glows brighter as the silver orb centers itself in the sky.
The pain in my limbs grows more intense, the urge to scream in agony is tempting, but I
don't. I should, but do not. It will get me nowhere, and it will not help me. So, I sit in
the corner and suffer silently through such torture. The moon rises higher toward the
center, the pain grows; soon enough, I am unable to hold in the screams.
I scream.
Granted that citizens below can hear me; do they come? Do they wonder what or who could be
enduring such torture and pain? No...they do not. Never have.
I go through this for six centuries, no one looks up at the thin, slanted and dark window.
No one comes clambering, clumsily up the stairs of the tower to where my screams grow
louder and are the dominant instrument in this dark, cobblestone hell. No one comes-some
may wonder, I do not invade their minds-nor have I tried.
But, I fear not that they do wonder, probably are just afraid of what dark, evil creature
awaits them to their death. I am but a nightmare, not exactly a dream, but neither a
nightmare shrouded in shadows and hidden in scraggly, ugly branches like long, clawed
fingernails.
So, yes, I am nothing but what I perceive myself. What others perceive me as, I know not
what to think; I scream, no one comes...yet, my life is lived more for me as I am living
locked up in this hole. Locked up, and suffering. No one to hear me scream.
Macbeth, remove this blood, I command you!
Give me the strength to see another day through
It’s hit me what I’ve truly done
Sanity has been lost but power has been won
Was it worth it all?
Or should I take the fall?
Out of this castle, should I leap?
Or should it be considered not so deep?
The guilt is immense, should I be dead?
My hands are stained with bloody red
No perfumes will wash this blood away
This hand of blood will forever stay
How could I have been the reason for the king's death?
Why did I let this happen, why did I do it Macbeth?
My mind is now full of scorpions, as yours was before
Shameful thoughts, and blood is dripping to the floor
How, how, how did I become so cruel in my mind?
I’m supposed to be a woman, the weak innocent kind
For my power, I caused you to kill a king
And now our marriage is owned by a bloody ring
You had the idea but it was hidden in the dark
I was the one who lit the thought to be a spark
Now you’ve gone on ordering others to kill
Involved in violence, for the safety and the thrill
How have I done this deed?
I’ve turned you tyrannical, now this poor country will forever bleed
Oh we were once so innocent and pure
Now the doctor doesn’t even see me to have a cure
As for you, You’re in blood, too far stepped in
Your need for power will never win
Macbeth, look at what I’ve done
Duncan should have lived to see the next days sun
Horror, horror, horror, I’m not meant to be a Queen
My hands are made of blood, they’re meant to be clean
There’s a spot marked amongst my hand
Marking my cruelty, why I did this nobody will ever understand
I’m just a cruel evil witch who cares for no one but herself
A disgust to society, a sly woman acting with stealth
And we aren’t even content though we’ve got our desire
As you said before, the snake is scorching in a fire
This burden is never going to go away
On this earth I shall no longer stay
What’s done cannot be undone
Though remember, when a battle is lost, it’s also won
When I die, you would have won by focusing on your mind
But please, Macbeth, turn back to being kind
Violence is not the way to be, and only causes pain
Macbeth, in desperation I beg you, go back to being sane
I’m sorry that my life has ended in my self and violent hand
Make me proud down there, and I wish you to understand.
grabbing at straws the luck of the draw
some live big some live raw
a few like gods on hills of gold
every things fine just do what were told
A man on the corner needs something to eat
money walks by thinks dirty deadbeat
separated so the poor don't offend
at least when your down no need to pretend
late at night at the castle on the hill
a drunken success pops another pill
doesn't talk to his kids doesn't have real friends
his wife loves spending and the hottest new trends
a mother and her children prepare for the meal
what little there is seems so surreal
Everyday she struggles to provide
all she has is love and great strength inside
the driver takes him to the company he owns
he makes money by working others to there bones
always watching for a worker whose down
to remind them hes got the best jobs in town
eight sharp she takes the bus into work
she works for sol ittle just to please some rich jerk
the boss points out maybe its time for some new clothes
hes pays so little cares nothing for what she owes
the girls need braces but theres no way to pay
she smiles real big and says well get em someday
but shes knows she probably wont ever afford
she can barely make rent on her own accord
when he enters his mansion he feels quite alone
a beautiful house but know sign of a home
he decides it be better if workers lost there medical coverage
the company will save and even the overage
two people so very different one thinks hes what most people want to aspire to
the other wonders how long she can hold two sick days she'd be out on the street
the first one is selfish drinks every night avoids his family and lies a lot to
the second is down but will never give up and her children love her she is so sweet
these two people we see everyday I'm willing to bet you may look away
she just doesn't know how to save irresponsible i hear people say
when you see the man in his top notch suit and perfect smile
i hear people say what an outstanding man i like to talk for a while
When i see the man in his thespian role i feel a ting of pity in the heart in the soul
all the money doesn't help him see the person he his the one he could be
when i see the women struggle all day i wonder why we aren't all this way
her strength and courage virtues indeed a path of love is always richer then one of greed
Form:
I
A queue to a doorway
No-one knows what´s
On sale there
It could be washing powder
Almonds or diamonds
You think this was some
Yesterday
Look out your
Ghost smeared
Window
This is now
II
Throw stones at the
Motorcade
The pin pricked
Giant will barely
Pause
At banners & petitions
Faded pendants
Worthless paper
Riding out for a
Losing battle
Looking to a broken sky
For some Mon´s Angel
Less an army
More a mob
To the castle!
To the castle!
With flaming
Molotov
You awake in darkness
Hopeful
So many crusades
Begin in dreams
III
Tobolski late summer
With blankets for curtains
Tapestry dust
Stirred into
Koptyski forest soil
The former holy
The highest
Dragged
Splintered
Made human
Or less
IV
Each new dawning day
Spins us up to escape velocity
To be spat out to unthinking stars
Made passive by the weight of reason & history
We stare out into the rain
Believing wolves rule beyond the clearing
Elsewhere there is dancing
Cruise ships leave a wake of
Halved grapefruits
Shirts and skirts worn once
Gilded, seamless they glide
Oblivious to the hidden knife
The newspaper wrapped revolver
Passed under the café table
At the platform´s edge
All are equal to the justice
Of the approaching train
V
Red Emma
Red Emma
Won´t you send Berkman over
With a satchel full
Of dynamite
On a Chicago bound
Train
VI
Part six
In which
I dig a hole
To bury past dreams
And convictions
I brain-grew
At a factory lathe
Always knowing
There was escape
A high window climb
And as any fool knows
The fresh-turned soil
Of any deep hole
Can be easy seen
From the public road
VII
My advice to you
Young devil-cared rebel
Why don´t you climb on the roof
While your parents are sleeping
Try & flag down a passing
Black star liner
The busted sewer pipe
Has flooded the basement
Wet pages spin like lily pads
Stashed furniture corpse-bloats
Full boxes mush-mold
Time is tight
Young devil-cared pilgrim
Take with you only
What your pockets can hold
VIII
Among the defeated
Slack faces on rusted fairground rides
Among the defeated
Eating smoke rain mocked
Among the defeated
Careless cigarettes burn umbrella holes
Among the defeated
Landlocked padlocked frozen out
IX
Don´t
try a handstand
Your coins will
Fall out
X
Under the tar
The chariot ruts
A Golem
Is stirring.
The day drew near..........
Upon the wind,
so light and fair
Flowers falling through the air
The South Wind Prince,
came to Castle Heartstone
Wearing a crown..........
Shining like the sun
Gold and bright
The Prince, spreading the wind
Warm and light
The petals began to fall............
The measured walk to the Great Hall
The Crown, shining bright
The Summer Queen ensuring this day........
Warm and light
The petals play
The pennants flew,
a blaze of colour too
Such joy to behold,
in Castle Heartstone.......
The shining gold
For, The Kings were there.......
Queens too........
Upon the Royal Thrones
The Crowns, shone bright
The cloaks glittered..........
On this day of wedding light
The Prince entered the Great Hall..........
His hair, so fair
It glowed in the light.........
His Crown, bright........
To see the Princess..........
His heart did fall
For, the Princess was waiting serenely.....
At the end of the Great Hall
Her dress, shimmering ,
with flowers of every colour..........
Every hue
Her hair, plaited around a crown of gold........
She was beautiful too
The Prince joined her,
proud and tall
The Great Hall was filled with flower scent
Blew with a warm wind airy and light
The Heartstone on the North Wall
Shone bright..........
The Tapestries glowed........
For this was right.........
A union of wind light and flower bright
The Spring Queen and the Princess of Magic........
Created a new orchid...........
The Wind Flower........
This was brought to them in the hall,
for this was the hour..........
The orchids beauty could be seen by all
They were blessed by all,
who were in the Great Hall
The love, showed
The Heartstone glowed...........
The stained glass West Wall,
shone with all its might
The Tapestries illuminated the night
Starlight,
Flower bright,
Faerie glow,
Magic to show
The South Wind Prince,
carried the Flower Princess out of the Hall.......
On a wind so airy and a wind so light.......
The petals fall......
The Heartstone, bright
Off they went,
deep into the night
Castle Heartstone...........
Filled with joy and love
The Heartstone,shining above.......
You are never alone........
In the Great Hall...........
For the power is within us all
The day drew near..........
Upon the wind,
so light and fair
Flowers falling through the air
The South Wind Prince,
came to Castle Heartstone
Wearing a crown..........
Shining like the sun
Gold and bright
The Prince, spreading the wind
Warm and light
The petals began to fall............
The measured walk to the Great Hall
The Crown, shining bright
The Summer Queen ensuring this day........
Warm and light
The petals play
The pennants flew,
a blaze of colour too
Such joy to behold,
in Castle Heartstone.......
The shining gold
For, The Kings were there.......
Queens too........
Upon the Royal Thrones
The Crowns, shone bright
The cloaks glittered..........
On this day of wedding light
The Prince entered the Great Hall..........
His hair, so fair
It glowed in the light.........
His Crown, bright........
To see the Princess..........
His heart did fall
For, the Princess was waiting serenely.....
At the end of the Great Hall
Her dress, shimmering ,
with flowers of every colour..........
Every hue
Her hair, plaited around a crown of gold........
She was beautiful too
The Prince joined her,
proud and tall
The Great Hall was filled with flower scent
Blew with a warm wind airy and light
The Heartstone on the North Wall
Shone bright..........
The Tapestries glowed........
For this was right.........
A union of wind light and flower bright
The Spring Queen and the Princess of Magic........
Created a new orchid...........
The Wind Flower........
This was brought to them in the hall,
for this was the hour..........
The orchids beauty could be seen by all
They were blessed by all,
who were in the Great Hall
The love, showed
The Heartstone glowed...........
The stained glass West Wall,
shone with all its might
The Tapestries illuminated the night
Starlight,
Flower bright,
Faerie glow,
Magic to show
The South Wind Prince,
carried the Flower Princess out of the Hall.......
On a wind so airy and a wind so light.......
The petals fall......
The Heartstone, bright
Off they went,
deep into the night
Castle Heartstone...........
Filled with joy and love
The Heartstone,shining above.......
You are never alone........
In the Great Hall...........
For the power is within us all
Form: