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The Journal that was too cool for a title.
It's too cool for a title
Another dose of poetry.
Yup, a few more. It's rather late on another sleepless night, so to keep myself occupied, I'll post some more work. I'm pleased with the first one. I haven't played around in free verse in a while, so I thought it would be a nice change from trying to rhyme.

Puppet Prayers
Steel strings slip between sobs
And the ecstasy of the dead has become hollow,
Crowds part for the perversion,
The blood the only proof of existence,
Trailing quietly after the fact
To be washed away in the non-existent storm,
Chase after the fading life
And hope you’ll get there in time to say good-bye,
The final mercy is so very cruel
As the puppet learns how to weep,
Bass lines leave behind quiet deaths
While the explanation will never be complete,
I hope you’re finally satisfied;
Addicted to the blood pouring so freely
Icy fingers of whispers crawl down the spine
Leaving behind the shell of the skeleton,
The forgotten hunger claws at the insides
While the screaming fills full the tears;
Wounds that opened but didn’t bleed,
Masks that taste like cake and tea
And eyes that form riverbeds so swollen
There is nothing but the dirt,
The life would be undone
But for the knot that keeps it
Drawing tighter around the wooden neck
Of a puppet that would prey if it remembered how.

Lost in my Wonderland
Breath taking savior, darken my night light
Put out the ice and hold onto me tight.
Beneath the crimson waves I settle for a scream,
Just pull me under to where dying faeries dream.

Strung up on past events we see wizards, I see ghosts.
Talking flowers too with rabbits dressed as hosts.
Moonlit mushrooms with children made of clay.
A simple flick of wrist, “can you come out to play?”

My dear meteor garden set the rose on fire,
Drench the signing unicorns break the dandelions.
Color my world in red, paint the trim with orange
Knock down the whole damn world; put it into storage…

“Mirror, Mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all”
Decaying pretty princesses, fingers meet the fall.
Charming prince come cross this sea of flame,
I guarantee your handsome looks will never be the same.

Figure out my name at dawn; I’ll spin a spool of gold,
Fight with cupid’s selfish love; bleed on Hecate’s cold.
Come on Alice grab my hand, step into my head
Next time shoot the Rabbit, Your wonderland is Dead.






User Comments: [1] [add]
Egyptian Goddess9
Community Member
avatar
commentCommented on: Sat Jul 01, 2006 @ 03:26am
I like both of them...nice references in "Lost in My Wonderland"

The first one fell very sweetly together...it all fit like a puzzle when you have all the pieces.


User Comments: [1] [add]
 
 
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