Monthly Archives: April 2013

Day 30

20130430-120125.jpg

I have found a letter,
absent your sound within.
I am dying inside the concert,
not one note sung twice…
but I plant a Spanish ballad,
I plant it into the sounds,
it grows, I move, I release the words,
it exits alive.

Did you leave the letter,
Unaware to your sound restrained?
Don’t be cold on paper,
to put the whole piece in my mind.

And if I return,
how will I write to be unheard?
I won’t come back
so that you can exceed your silence.

©Y.E.S 2013

Day 30 Prompt http://www.napowrimo.net

Advertisements

20130429-151014.jpg

It’s easy to write
When I’m angry,
So simple to
bleed out dry,
Everything streams
Out so clearly,
And then ebbs
When I don’t wish to die.
Plagued by creation,
Not many,
Plagued by this life
Are so few,
Close my eyes
I’m forsaken,
Closing my eyes
Just won’t do.
It’s easy to seethe
When you’re lying,
So simple to
Bury this dead,
Everything happens
When trying,
And then nothing
Shall happen instead.

©Y.E.S 2013

Day 27

20130427-122915.jpg

Become the devil
and I, the sinister siren;
When you come knocking at my door,
I should hate you.

The gates of hell
Swung open wide,
When you came knocking at my door
and brought the fire.

It’s no surprise,
That two black hearts,
Are grandly haunting
and full of dark passion.

Stand at the very edge,
Because I’m trapped…
It’s no surprise,
When you come knocking at my door…

©Y.E.S 2013

Nevermore

20130426-085151.jpg

So fucking
predictable,
Such a
sordid case,
Cannot understand
the moments,
I longed to see your face.
To read
your words
so flippant,
Though then
I did not know,
How you liked to
set your stage,
And watch your
Ego grow.
Leave your
noxious stories
in a suitcase
on the floor,
Pick them up
on your way out
and come here
Nevermore.

©Y.E.S 2013

The Fiend

20130426-084725.jpg

I take your fabrication
With a grain of salt,
Generator of lies –
Your artillery depleted.
In the gutter,
I watch you drown;
A mercurial creature,
Lost in your own ego,
Soaked in a bilious
shade of black.
Curl up into a fetal ball,
Tendrils of
willowy seaweed
Pull you down into your own squander…
A ghost of what could have been,
You are nothing but
a repulsive fiend.

©Y.E.S 2013