whirlpool

a rush of images, sounds, tastes, and touch
a man can only take so much
before he violently shakes his head
like a dog to come back to the now

but the colors of the now are muted
there is no comparison to a dimly lit afternoon
like a Polaroid of a rainbow, frozen in time
something secret, just yours and mine

the whirlpool of thoughts has me in its grip
my heart on a slide and ready to slip
how can a few hours be such a trip
it's a high that keeps on giving

back in the now
my dreams are peppered
with everything you

grounded

Men, women, demons selling their souls
On the streets and sidewalks of The Whorl
Cheap, for as much as cheap would go
Dying to hear a yes in the sea of no

Angels with spikes through their wings
Stuck to the ground like helpless flies
As worms eat through their feathered bones
The hawkers selling their blood drown their cries

High on dreams the people sick and tired
Tied to their dull routines, all hope expired
Zombie machines marching to the beats
Of the clocks grafted in their chest holes

This city needs a new plague
To cleanse out the garbage
The human detritus overflowing
Ouroboros feeds on itself, unknowing

Now the angels are grounded
Demons are running free
Hell is here with a grin on its face
And it's looking right at me
---
Could a city be a time in space?

helix

They walk around in a circle
They walk around the bush
Beating the ground with their feet
Till the mud is a bloody slush

For nine days and nine nights
The men and women walked
Beating around the bush, but
Without a word being talked

On the tenth day they stopped
The shaman set the bush on fire
The flames drenched the faces
That were dying with desire

Soon their hearts were beating
To the sounds of the maniac drums
As the fire reached the skies
And made the heavens thrum

In a helix around the fire
All of them did lay
Did they dream of whorls and spirals
This I cannot say

---
This it ends. (3 of 3)

A Thousand Poems

A book full of moth eaten pages

Scribbled words and pictures

Doodled infinities
Trapped in dead trees

Took one thousand poems
To reach here
Middle of nowhere

Bathed in the fear
Of tomorrow
Words broken
Rhymes misshapen
An inkblot

A tattoo
Scrunched into my skin
Drawn in darkness
By a blind tattoo artist
With a boxing glove on his fist
I've got my nose in the book
Breathing in the poems
This bad cocaine

It's coursing
Through my veins
And I like it
Oooooh
I like it so much
It gets me high
So should I give
A fuck?
Or keep pushing
My luck
Waiting for it
To push back
All the fucking way

---
Two things, find the Discworld reference and the reason why this poem is written like this.
More, soon. 

ghost train

the ghost train is coming
filled with skulls and dark dreams
prepare to scream
prepare to fucking sing

the train hasn't stopped in
like, forever (969 years, actually)
one look and you're a part of it
tell me you are feeling clever

you can close your eyes
but you'll still here it arrive
the sound hypnotic, a trance
when the engine screams, will you survive?

the ghost train is almost here
the railroads are thrumming
what are you going to wear
when you hear the train a'comin

--
I think I wrote this because I am listening to Airbourne. No Guts, No Glory was one fuck of an album.

Time Worm

somewhere in the stream of time
some seconds slipped off the drift
grouped together they formed the minutes
that turned into hours
then like an ancient organism
the Time Worm crawled out
into the muddy reality
it shook the water off its back
at the bank of the stream
so all that was seen of its absence
a hole in the stream
filled with a glitch
a void, a vacancy
that would never be complete
the little worm pranced its way
into the forest of forever
carrying memories on its back
that would never fade
blood tattooed
soul imprinted
never to be erased
and in some future forever
when the time stream will grow sluggish
the worm will crawl back in
to reboot the water
again

---
some memories fade, but some things are imprinted in your mind forever, that's what the time worm is carrying. and it's important because memories are the fuel that keep us going. love or hate,  thoughts are like bombs.

No Home

untethered, the umbilical dissolved
floating, drifting, drowning in a void
a spaceship with no port to dock
a man without a home

at the end of the day
there is nowhere to go
except through the same old motions
we repeat things we already know

all that's left is a ghost
a ghost of desires forgotten
like a flower undeground
that forgets the taste of light

the skies are grey now
without a hope or sign of light
locked in permanent cages
every heart dreams of flight

---
There are days when you just feel dissociated with everything and you just want to connect with something but there is nothing. Think of a USB drive hitting a brick wall on repeat, there is just no port for it. This poem is really funny, too but that's just hidden between the lines.

feel so blank today

i am chasing a lot of words
they keep running away from me
i make ropes of my fingers
and try to bring them in

but the words are slippery and sly
they slip, slide and scamper away
i am running here and there looking for them
but they do not come my way

maybe i should use magnets
maybe i should use some kind of bait
maybe i should threaten them
but time is short, i am already late

there are deadlines hovering on my head
like vultures with curved beaks and sharp claws
they see and they want me dead
but they'll never drag this keyboard from my paws

i feel sad, so sad, i cannot work but
my heart is a wolf, a demon, a rapscallion dark
so i use the pen and the paper, to make my mark
cuz the bite of this fucker is worse than his bark

Circles and Spirals

It was a long time ago
(really long time ago)
when i read that poem

some star-struck, heart-broken poet wrote
that
lovers are like two points of a compass
always connected
dancing with each other

but real life is not that simple
lovers can't draw a circle and call it quits
there are things that divide the circles
there are words we don't know the meaning of
there are lines that run parallel never to meet
like train tracks headed into a dark tunnel

i wish loving someone was as simple as a circle
you sacrifice everything and expect nothing
but human heart is a son of a bitch
always needing to scratch that invisible itch

if you don't scratch that itch, it will drive you insane
and when it ends, you might not remember your name

there are spirals within the circles, and we're all tied in our silent coves
spinning threads that might just bring us closer
or send us away from each other

----

I need to get back to this blog, I swear I do.

The Grudge

I chew the slivers of broken dreams

Till my teeth scrape and my gums bleed

Still I chew it hard into a mush

Still I smile as I swallow that slush

It never gets better with time

Each mouthful bitter than last

But the dog in me is relentless

It keeps chewing like a bastard

The times when it's tough to swallow

When the insides have become hollow

Only a void where something used to be

Beaten free from the desire to be free

This morning I took another mouthful of dreams

To chew all day as I sit in this chair

High on the fumes that make my eyes tear

I am not even here. 

Not even here

The Fog

Life is a road
Full of fog of time
We can only see till a distance
And pray it will be fine

One step in front of another
Eyes on the prize
Even if you can't see
Keep it clear in your mind

So, walk on brother walk on
Walk my sister walk
We're all going home
Through this fog of life

We'll get there
Trust me on this
We'll get there
Sooner, or later

The darkness Of My Toast

Liquid smoke drifts from my eyes
As I look up into the broken skies
A life of betrayal ended by lies
No one can hear my tortured cries

The world is grey my hope is lost
All I am, that I was is toast
So I think I should be what I can
I could surely use some jam

But the toast of my body is burnt
This blackness it seems I have earned
I scrape off the edges but bitter it tastes
This stupidity I want not, so, I shall waste

The juice has a shark swimming it it
I think its turned in a Shark Vod. Shit!
Vodka on the morning of my life
Where is my wife?

-=-=-=-=-=
Regulars of A Story A Day will recall a Shark Vod. This is just a take on how people use big words and write 'dark' stuff, when the most important thing in life is a decent breakfast.

*Edit--Since I mentioned Shark Vod, here is for your reading pleasure > A Thousand Elephants -One,

A Thousand Elephants Two

enjoy :)

Cheers!


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House Of Confusion

Magic water runs in taps
Heads lie still in baseball caps
Forks and fingers dance on the ceiling
They don't know how I am feeling.

Smell of old farts is prevalent
Which no deodorant can prevent
The doors creak every now and then
The sink stinks of socks of men

Chickens roost upside down on the floor
On every wall, the number of a whore
I tried calling but its just customer care
They say Melissa doesn't live there

The house of confusion is alive but dead
The sound effects of chickens are in my head
I tell them no but I can't ignore
I hear them laugh when I am bored.

-=-=-=-=

That ladies and gentlemen, is a masterpiece.

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Been A Long Time

Ice Cream screams for more and more
The axe is stuck in the back of the door
There is blood drying silently on the floor
And a long time since I last saw her

Headphones whisper satanic verses
The snow on the TV has an evil color
The air stinks like four months old socks
Been a long time since I saw her

Radio silence has ghosts of dead RJs talking
Animated, they sing songs of dead rock stars
Screaming into the night a banshees dances
Been a long time since I saw her

The shotgun plants a French kiss on my mouth
Embracing me like the Anaconda in my dream
One rib breaks, punctures heart, I pull the trigger
Gonna be a long long time till I'll get to see her

-=-=-=
Are you ready?

The Download Monster

I take a break from the journey
A breath and then I'm on again
This is a ride through the www
To download everything would be a pain

I spend so much time online
And then I complain about life
But I have to spend so much time online
I have to find a wife!

So I'm writing a poem for the world tonight
I'm writing a poem soaked in fright
If the world is at my finger tips
Then would it follow the words on my lips?

These wires and electrons connect me
Through them I hear and I see
Still the world is bigger than I can ever be
But I will download it all, I promise!!

Questions and Answers

An ant crawled up on the keyboard
Trying to press a button or two
I pressed 'W' and killed the ant (accidentally)
All in name of mailing you.

This set me musing on the meaning of life
A four letter word which rhymes with wife
Some people live and some people die
While others just watch them, laugh and lie

But that doesn't answer my question at all
That's the whole trick said a voice in my head
Ah, I see, No, I hear and understand
What people don't know even when they are dead

The answer is that there is no answer
Because you have to learn the questions first
When life is the biggest question, so clever
Can there be an answer to forever?

My Own Dream

Something went bump in the night
I woke up taken by a fright
My room filtered in a blue moonlight
Another dream had taken flight.

I feel the hunger in my stomach
I feel the thirst for blood in my soul
I feel the madness crawling at the back of my neck
I feel the night dissolving in one tiny speck

I am awake and bathed in sweat yet
I see her sitting close by me
She oblivious to my presence
Does she know that I can see...her

I ask her things and she whispers replies
Every time she speaks a little of me dies
The I ask her to lull me back to sleep
And give me a dream that is mine to keep.

-=-=-=-=-=

Corresponding story "I, Night" on A Story A Day

Today, like Yesterday

There was a ghost in my head today
He told me a story and he went away
I wrote it down for all to see
I found company in my misery

I saw a bird in the sky today
For a change not a vulture this time
A crow that came from far away
And told me all the words that rhyme

For some reason time is slow today
It's been two hours since I last said something
Slavery is much better some days
At least you get paid for doing nothing

I read a poem on a blog today
Sad it was but it made me laugh
So I wrote a pointless one from my side
So you can laugh on my behalf

Now say ha ha

Cursed with Memories

Bad songs on a lonely night
A hungry heart which won't fight
A scalding pain tearing me apart
I hate to think this is just the start

More follows
In new shapes
Left alone for dead
I never asked for this much space

I can do nothing but hold on
Like a dying man hanging on to hope
To a memory of long ago
Should I let it go?

But who is holding who?
Whose face in whose head?
The vicious circle of a thought
Somethings I just don't want to forget

In the Shadows of Stupidity

There is a shadow in the corner

Could be him or could be her
When I move it does not stir
And I'm taken by a stupid fear

There are things that don't make sense
Grammar of past or present tense
Rhyme of this poem is in check
But the end might be a wreck.

What am I trying to say?
Do I want to have my way?
Is this poem turning gay?
Ah! my needle in the hay!
-=-=-=-=-

First poem