So — here again, Strange — as always, Café — in french? typical, Funny — how we always meet at the stroke of each minute, Almost — like the last time was a past life, It Begins — A new encounter each time, Hugging — at the frontier of a new life, each existence, Sweet — is the moment, the fruit we eat, the coffee we drink, The things we say — the moments we share
"The rubble lies at the castle's wake!" and the bishop grows a garden in the blood Missionary tales paint caustic consequences - crunching men like chocolate From one end — to another, the peace we hold holds us from the peace we seek There is no fight, no victory, but an end to the massacre Unshaken peace becomes comfort Unawakened comfort becomes sleep Sleep becomes death If vigour will cause me to live then let my blood bubble like wine The work is in the ease and in the fear To go beyond what is known to my shadow Moving into somewhere with no forward The chaos that swallows, and jails with its teeth No mercy can be given without retribution Those who stay in the shroud, cry and laugh They are now jackals, guard dogs to the world of the broken Once the illusion is dissolved The Pearl of Peace shall fall at your feet Glowing, in the castle's wake.
The stars continue to fluster may I come into your view? The soul looks dark tonight But the mind looks bright today A child is born but never birthed The produce, the milk of the universal radiation The microwaves wash me of doubt they wash me of happiness The power to fall has been realised White has now found black My eyes see now instead of my thoughts The artist's imagination blocks his intuition To create he must become free To succeed he must learn how to be
Every time my heart is broken, Love spills out and pure blood's on the floor — bubbling like soup, it fizzles out, the spark dies, and the patch stains, soaking into the cracks of the bedroom carpet. What must must I do? I can't carry it in my hands. It'll only get taken away.
It’s okay to be silent You don’t always have to talk Only talk when it means something You can’t control how other people feel You’re not rude for taking care of yourself Find peace within yourself Learn to enjoy just being Enjoy the silence, the clarity if you don’t want to talk, don’t talk. You are in control.
Imagine ghosts haunting you day and night and you’re the only one that can see them They can touch you but you can’t touch them, and The only way to move them away is to be okay with seeing ghosts That’s what mental illness is like.
I love the smell of a cold, rainy night so brittle, the air freezes in my nostrils It’s sobering in a way with my lamp on and I, with my head poking out my window a great time to smoke But I quit last week The music of the raindrops will suffice The moisture turns the estate into wetlands I can smell the earth three stories high It’s consoling in a way With my record playing and I, sitting here writing this poem.
middle men in devil comstumes could never take what we had sown together at the atriums, the string only loosened We thought it broke apart at the seams, tearing like flesh Turns out we didn't give each other enough space to move.
To those now lost: The love was always there, the hate was just stronger. The fear was even worse.