she notices the change
the sudden shift in how I move
she asks why
I tell her nothing and smile
we talked about this already
why bring it up again
a smile hiding the resentment
leaving her to wonder why
I suffer in the dark
while she only sees my availability
silently destroyed within
my emotional survivability
drained and effortless
unable to explain
with distance ever growing
as does the bitterness
only a continuation of energy collection
without a care for my mind
a deep void
too dark to exist
a pathetic fallacy
an embodiment desperately clinging to within
At what point do we reach the turn
The second before the spiral
At the moment of no return
When all regrets are visioned vital
To our demise, the urgency of the blind
Fat with profit driven policy
Ignoring burnt grass, paying no mind
To food shortages that became normalcy
Wrapped up in pathetic fallacy
Autumn hides false prosperity
Imagined lands of Albion's dream
Fields of flourish not concrete seen
Too scared to admit that we are beyond
Any points of green
“To be or not to be”, was Hamlet‘s sole question.
We’ve a common conundrum, that’s my confession.
Burn bridges or mend fences, in my discretion…
I stand above them, pistol heavy in my hand.
They cringe before me, she’s sobbing and he’s unmanned.
My mind’s really roiling, though my expression’s bland…
She surely did me wrong, there’s truly no dispute,
In flagrante delicto, they cannot refute.
Leaves me such a dilemma, achingly acute…
The Lord tells us “Vengeance is mine, I will repay!”
Also “to forgive is divine” didn’t he say?
How is a mere mortal to decide the right way…
But wait! “Nature weeps”, a pathetic fallacy
As “either or” is just a false dichotomy
In reality both are merely sophistry…
Should I mend the fence? Overly optimistic.
Should I burn the bridge? Aptly apocalyptic.
There is another choice, neatly nihilistic…
My attention was caught, resolution was sought.
The decision was fraught, it’s a Gordian knot
Hamlet’s vexing question solved with a single shot…
New intent nicely teased, and tension slightly eased.
My mind now appeased, prior predicament ceased
With resolve swiftly pleased - the trigger slowly squeezed…
It is fallacious to pretend
we contrive to “become ourselves”
when there’s no one to observe us.
Mere mice with conceits of grandeur
prowling proud like cats in the night -
Hubris holds high its hoary head.
We are ever just whom we are,
we can’t be more and can’t be less
until finally we are not.
Was it really raining outside
or was it just in my head?
Were those pearls from above
actually cascading down?
Or was it just my sorrow
letting my hopes drown?
Pathetic fallacy burst forth
from a novels page.
With sunflower queens
bowing their heads,
as the might of the heavens
filled them with dread.
Lightening tongues rip -
through the sky and the page.
As thunder's foreboding rumbling
echos around my heart.
The line dividing reality...
and fantasy is found to be tumbling.
Butterfly whispers reach me -
tenderly from another world.
As I close the book and raise my eyes,
expecting the jewellery of summer
to fill my gaze from outside -
I see rain to my great surprise!
As the weather chooses its flavour for the hour,
Stubble-ended wood shaves itself on the layers of unseen ground.
Synthetic puke seeps through pores seeking to devour
Every tiny, curled hair floating in the murk around and around.
Pool party skies reside a millimeter higher than the tallest fingertip:
Leftovers infect this mass of last meals passed on.
A spindle of cloth runs out with time enough to graze my lip
And still no locks of winter-lived years could sink a single talon
Into the darkest dark of fleeting moments taken from a fork.
Shall this be all that has come from years after that first unscrewed cork?
today is pathetic fallacy
like the start to a poem
except it’s the end
and i would rip my heart out
if you just asked for it
you didnt
but i did it anyway
and now it’s between us
and it’s oozing blood
all my love for you
seeping into your carpet
slowly
tik. tok. tik
waiting for an answer
except i don’t want it
let it be silent
leave the stones unturned
just for a little while
or forever.
Running wild propelled by echoes of thunderous hooves clip clopping rhyme
A troop of stallions gallop in assonance over fields of pasture in adnomination
Display streams of collective unconsciousness un-trapped by stirrups and reigns
Apposition knows no boundaries when pairing takes part in euphonic neighing
Here in Nirvana they need neither hyperbole nor euphemism to cover lost ground
Para-diastole does not exist in equine paradise as syncope and solecism canter
Karma has no boundaries and parrhesia has lost the shadows of juxtaposed isms
Unsaddled from the weight of the whip the horizon bears no limit for freedom
The herd adheres not to the pathetic fallacy of tamed nature riding roughshod
Over rhetorical questions or self-styled syllepsis of spurs spurned on by clatter
When I look at the feast of mares and fillies following instinct and pure inclination
My path finds their spoor on track to a promised land of inhibition and pleasure
29th March 2020
The Rope
"You must be tired by now,
go home and undo your hopes.."
the cracked pen and conscience, spill
dark clouds into the background
of the mind, pathetic fallacy...
The Rope: Pathos,
covers the skin in ink
until the illness overlaps the man,
until emotions overlap reason,
until he disappears into the night,
unbeknownst to the stars,
and even to himself.
For he
"who makes a beast of himself,
gets rid of the pain of being a man".
FOREVER DRIVEN
Feminine desire bags my life in a bin
And yet lust remains my greatest sin
Aware i am of the deadly syndrome
Still my manhood gains more momentum
Insanely guided towards this crazy passion
Always digging and searching with much emotion
Like a raging sea speaks my pathetic fallacy
Only the opposite gender might understand this energy
Alternatively offered the riches of life
But like a rapscallion I go on and strive
Yet doomed I am, the best philander created
Forever driven I remain strongly embedded!
FOREVER DRIVEN
Feminine desire bags my life in a bin
And yet lust remains my greatest sin
Aware i am of the deadly syndrome
Still my manhood gains more momentum
Insanely guided towards this crazy passion
Always digging and searching with much emotion
Like a raging sea speaks my pathetic fallacy
Only the opposite gender might understand this energy
Alternatively offered the riches of life
But like a rapscallion I go on and strive
Yet doomed I am, the best philander created
Forever driven I remain strongly embedded!
Vancouver's a private reference and it's not really about Canada as a whole, just one
experience regarding the aforementioned. Shh!
Schwein Fleisch vs schweinefleisch. As two distinct words it literally means "pig skin" as
one word it means "pork". I mean it as two distinct words so that it can tie in with
"pound of flesh". I was going to have "haut" but apparently "schweinhaut" is actually a
surname. Oh those unlucky few who roam the world as Mr and Mrs Pig-Skin! :(
__________
Vancouver
Chasing rainbows along horizons
Is insane. Clear misunderstanding.
You left the city and your pound of flesh.
Schwein Fleisch.
We were young, laughing and colliding
Corrupt to the claws. We were
Writing endlessly, listlessly and so
Apologetic. Pathetic fallacy
The downpour flooded the chalk into grey.
Of course we wrote about you.
Reviews were decadent and ego-manipulating.
We were akin with it. The world was always a
Spectrum of amazing.
Had to run.
Through the rainbow with
Your look of Old Nick.
No explanation.
Schwein Fleisch.
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