I strike it across the surface
With a phosphor smell it
makes its presence felt
Dancing in the air like a
timid fairy, but potent.
Potent enough to math
Lucifer's wrath, it stays.
A sudden gust of wind kill it
to leave an evanescent column
of frail smoke and a
splinter of burnt charcoal,
Its purpose unfulfilled.
I light another , covering it,
protecting it,
I made it caress the tip of
my cigarette giving birth
to the orange luminescense
and the warm smoke,
Like it does to million others
each day.
I waved it to die, abandoned it,
like a used prostitute,
pleasure derived out of,
its purpose fulfilled.
Forgotten the next moment,
the splinter that was a
demure matchstick,
That was carved from the
blood, sweat and toil of
poor blind children.
Used. Burnt. Forgotten.
A blog for the darker side of my mind where I express it in the form of peotry. It's about the human mind and ho it thinks, its fears, dreams and expectations and some philosophies regarding hopelessness, misery, death as well as lust and happiness.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Plain White Ceiling
Everytime I open my eyes to I
see the pale ceiling,
I feel worms crawling beneath
my skin, helplessly,
I feel the tubes through my nose
feeding me, breathing me,
The needles through my veins
and the sensors that keep
the monitors beeping my life.
Urinating through a tube,
sphincter out of control I lie
Devoid of shame or respect
I lie.
I have dreams at night, of things
I could've achieved
Of places I could've seen and
in adventures I'd have been.
I have nighmares sometimes
of the day the doctor informed me;
Of the things that happen in death
and of things afterwards.
My body broken I lie, of death
I'm afraid and I lie.
But I hope soon the monitor
shows a flat line.
see the pale ceiling,
I feel worms crawling beneath
my skin, helplessly,
I feel the tubes through my nose
feeding me, breathing me,
The needles through my veins
and the sensors that keep
the monitors beeping my life.
Urinating through a tube,
sphincter out of control I lie
Devoid of shame or respect
I lie.
I have dreams at night, of things
I could've achieved
Of places I could've seen and
in adventures I'd have been.
I have nighmares sometimes
of the day the doctor informed me;
Of the things that happen in death
and of things afterwards.
My body broken I lie, of death
I'm afraid and I lie.
But I hope soon the monitor
shows a flat line.
Murder
A set of springs and gears engineered
to coreographed precision
A piece of streamlined metal with an
explosive charge hidden behind
The spring pushes it to the empty atrium
ready for the discharge
The menacing finger sqeezes at it
slowly, meaning to harm.
The springs contract gaining energy
ready to strike
A small click, the spring releases,
the hammer strikes the charge,
An explosion, tremendous pressure,
the metal head gushes forward
Leaves the nozzle, a flash, smoke
a recoil, a smell lingers
The bullet cuts air, rushes forth
projectile like, threatening.
It kisses the skin, unhindered,
cuts, slices, crushes, forward,
Veins tear, flesh tears, bone crunching
yet unstopped, poisoning
Passes through, flies through, unhindered
flies out making an exit wound.
Before logic or reason kicks in
all light fades.
to coreographed precision
A piece of streamlined metal with an
explosive charge hidden behind
The spring pushes it to the empty atrium
ready for the discharge
The menacing finger sqeezes at it
slowly, meaning to harm.
The springs contract gaining energy
ready to strike
A small click, the spring releases,
the hammer strikes the charge,
An explosion, tremendous pressure,
the metal head gushes forward
Leaves the nozzle, a flash, smoke
a recoil, a smell lingers
The bullet cuts air, rushes forth
projectile like, threatening.
It kisses the skin, unhindered,
cuts, slices, crushes, forward,
Veins tear, flesh tears, bone crunching
yet unstopped, poisoning
Passes through, flies through, unhindered
flies out making an exit wound.
Before logic or reason kicks in
all light fades.
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