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RE: Weird Poetry

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1/24/2011 17:31:27   
Fleur Du Mal
Member

The Memory Drain


There's a past name of the game holding some fame
of birth given by life vein in blood rain and I'm insane

A history breeding a life of its own
dead, yet it thirsts to be known
in the memory drain it has grown

I go back to bad choices, edit and erase
I tamper all the forgeries, shift and outphase
but the paper trail is a member of an immortal race
and I can't delete my face...

There's a past game of the fame holding some name
of birth given in blood rain by the insane and I live in vein

At the door I turn, didn't know I am the other
where is our compassion now, weeping mother
forever backlogged with many breaths to smother

I hear the neighbours walking upstairs
standing awake as I thus sink in the affairs
of the feeble heart that mostly despairs
and I can't deal with any more repairs...

There's a past fame of the name playing some game
of birth given to the insane living in vein I am the blood rain.
DF  Post #: 26
3/4/2011 19:09:27   
Fleur Du Mal
Member

Special


The light filtering down along shadows
Where the roots of the buildings meet
Their abrupt ends on the asphalt
Spilling life like blooddrops in rain

The light flickering up in the ceiling
Where the cold neon burns skin
Illuminating death poised open under it
The hidden show for none to see

With the chain around my neck I opened the doors
Through the holes in my head I watched the dead
By the tears on my palms I touched for help
In my ragged brains figuring out why why why

Little children talk about the ways they
Wish to die just not quite yet on the way
Death invites himself to other towns
And not by the notes they would hope to send

Counting the record hours of awakeness
When sleep is the real luxury for them
Living and for them Dying in the arms
Of peace and love too often away

The light faltering far in the horizon
Where the sun turns into astral chambers
Beauty in the crimson hues to those
Who'll live to greet the morn
Eternal darkness looming to those
Who'll date the death in the night

Aren't I special, aren't I special
DF  Post #: 27
3/6/2011 13:40:30   
Fleur Du Mal
Member

Liquid


On the meadows of the wind
lives the son of an old song
Without hope without love
the boy plays on
Six chords and a Choir of flowers
above clouds lost
careless birds on frail wings
steer down and drop dead
like the liquid notes of his guitar
one by one

In the sands of returned time
breathes the daughter of the wise
Without hope without love
the girl dreams on
Six echos and a Choir of ghosts
behind locked gates
sacred writings on frail paper
turn to ash before her hunger
like the silent wishes of her heart
two by two

The pulse of the Earth beneath
wreaths around the wind above
With hope with love
the curtain floods down
Six words and a Choir of fingers
behind falling rain
newborn hours under frail light
halt forever before their toes
like the sand and wind of their world
and I by you
DF  Post #: 28
3/19/2011 20:11:32   
Fleur Du Mal
Member

The Unformed

Deep lines on my mother's face, dusk-painted
In my mind etched with nails of pain
Her ashen dress floated in the breeze
then fell still against the floor
as she closed the shutters
and turned to me,
”That wind is the breath of your father,
it's time for you to go.”

Sharp blades of grass against my legs
In the forest to where she pointed my steps
Her finger shivering like the leaves above my head
ready to fall for winter
as she closed the past
and turned away,
That wind breathes her life hereafter,
it's time to let go.

Shredded fabric hanging from the branches
Crows picking clean the forfeit bones of soldiers
Their spirits unformed and left without a home,
howling in the aether
as I walked along the road
and turned away
That wind is the breath of my father,
it's time for me to go.

Sacred ground crying under my soles torn
Forbidden battlefields spreading across my vision
In the middle stood the shrine that is no more
crumbling apart in the wind
as my father exhaled
and turned to me,
”This breath draws your life hereafter,
it's time for you to let go.”

Broken sword in the reach of my trembling heart
Covered with the dried blood of the unformed
Their thoughts still howling and praying above
choosing life even past midwinter
as I grabbed the iron
and turned to him
”This breath is mine to draw hereafter,
it's time for you to let go!”

Snowstorm cast on the forest for hours and hours
Ripping the crust apart, twisting the blistering trees
In the eye of the blizzard fought I and father
faith upon fate in the dark
as my father fell
and turned away,
This wind is the breath of your daughter,
it's time for you to go.
DF  Post #: 29
9/10/2011 17:14:03   
Fleur Du Mal
Member

Oncology

Out on the broken valley lies the last stop
Eyes dual mirrors of the vast blue
Through all the trials, all the hopes I grew for
You linger in my heart as life runs away
Future slowly yields under sterile dust
While folders gather receipts of failed
war efforts

Disbelief creeps up my spine
Already we stand at the end of means?
Already death howls a winner's cry?
I shake my head, fingertips draw stubborn lines
On the ground, around the eye
Of the sky still watching us under
science failed

My strength only in your warm hands
My faith hanging on the song of the crow
No, no, it's not, I refuse it!
When the burning zenith falls down
And the clouds drink the dry rain
You hold me through the quakes of
waning flesh

Even when my legs can't carry me
The desire lives to dance under eternity
While this day lasts upon us
For the evening shall fold me away
In a gentle embrace soothing the pain
Until my eyes are closed to you,
my world.
DF  Post #: 30
9/10/2011 17:56:02   
Fleur Du Mal
Member

Petals of Evil


Unspoken the hopes of our heart
Unseen the shimmer of our dreams
Untasted the water of our skies
Undefined the course of our feet

Unmarred the blood of our life
Unknotted the pattern of our thoughts
Untainted the shine of our eyes
Unblistered the skin of our soles

Flee!
From the vultures devouring the sky,
From the fear creeping in close by,
From the darkness wherein light will be bound
From the knives that jut out from the ground...

***

In the evening she fell silent
Staring at the days gone
She had opened all she could
And the room grew vast around her
She knew the fog she saw rising
Was salt by her own creation
Each heartbeat heavier
Tightening in the chest
Like the hold around her hand
Henceforth utterly lost
A memory of a voice in her head,


Only one seed I agreed to tend
Only one rose I grew
I shall give it for you to hold
Don't be scared, I've cut the thorns
But have you, my love, have you?


Her mind stayed in its constant haze,
While she reflected,
All these scattered words you see,
And she blinked,
They were not written by me, not by me.

DF  Post #: 31
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