I’m going to try doing an audio clip every week or so, 2-3 minutes of me…thinking I guess is the way to describe it. Devouring more stories in the forms of books, movies and shows; they’re like a drug to me.

We’ll see what happens in this year I’ve resolved to become more self involved than ever before. Maybe I’ll actually get angry to see what it’s like.

Søl

And now you’re getting better
Getting better, getting better

When your highs are low
And your lows only reach lower
There was no way to know
That this was the door
Upright downside up on the floor
Could you ask for anything more?
The windows in the ceiling
Open up onto the walls
Why the hell aren’t you reeling?
Do you even hear the calls
Left over to try and start you feeling

Free yourself, they’re only clouds
Dust yourself off and run away
Before you’re caught up in the shrouds
Of some pitiful fool’s despair
Embrace the feeling,
Embrace the healing,
Of cutting away all the excess flesh,
Because sweat’s thicker than blood
Until it evaporates, slowly

This was the door
Upright downside up on the floor
Do you want anything more?
The windows in the ceiling
Open up onto the walls
It’s just a fucked up room
Stuck in a fucked up room
Staring at a fucked up moon

Gasp for breath, expect your death
And it will only avoid you
Your interest makes it shrivel up
In it’s pitiful despair
Embrace the feeling,
Embrace the healing,
To try and stop being who you are
The torn cuticles shredded and mangled
Representing, symbolizing the hart on the string
That followed the only way to the river Lethe

Because this was the door
Upright downside up on the floor
Do you want anything more?
The windows in the ceiling
Open up onto the walls
It’s just a fucked up room
Stuck in a fucked up room
Staring at a fucked up moon

Hold onto your life, you must remember!
Does it mean so much to you now I wonder?
There’s a change that will come about!
But you’re headed the wrong way don’t you know?
That you can not reap what you sow
If you forget where your field was, leave it behind
Reap nothing and rape nothing
Want nothing and shed your skin
Delicate rose of flesh and sin
Be prepared, I’m coming in.

In through the door
Upright downside up on the floor
Do you want anything more?
The windows in the ceiling
Open up onto the walls
It’s just a fucked up room
Stuck in a fucked up room
Staring at a fucked up moon

’cause your highs are low
And lows only reach lower
There was no way to know
That this was the door
Upright downside up on the floor
The windows in the ceiling
Open up onto the walls
Could you ask for anything more
Than everything.

Started at 10:40 ended 10:50. I don’t normally force rhymes but here it seemed to work out ok,  (with the door and lower if you missed it) I also don’t normally use language in my poetry but this seemed appropriate. Anyways, enjoy/comment whatever you want.

You used to be my dream catcher
Now I dream and they’re not kind
The fact remains I still can’t etch her
In any of the corners of my mind

Whatever happened to you!
You broke away
Though you still sway
In the breezes of my hope

Where do all dreams go when they die?
I hope it’s far away from me
They’re something I don’t want to see
And there’s not a single strand of rope

I can’t get out, did you lie?
Again? You’re frowning
Even as I’m drowning
Eagerly. Awaiting a new way to cope

Because you used to be my dream catcher…

Whatever happened to you!
The violent incarnations (‘s) being ripped apart
By himself wishing to devour his own heart
Chew it well oh dream of mine

Pierce your tongue by biting the plum
Doesn’t it soothe your burning skin
Or is it simply another memory of sin?
Taste your brain and give me a sign

That all is going to alright. Love
one another or wish you could
Lick the nectar from the dying bud
Pickled within the salty brine

Because you used to be my dream catcher…

Whatever happened to the key?
I needed a miracle to make me see
But nobody was around to help me
Find your door and apologize.

Started at 11:10 ended at 11:19 It’s rough but that’s to be expected I guess, since it’s a mesh of ideas it’s messy, I’ll probably return and dissect this for later on for new work.

To anyone else doing this, a bunch of my friends certainly, good luck and let’s fucking do it!
Since it’s essentially a characters “journal” as it grows it could get confusing to scroll through all the text so you could “Find” the last day you were on, or the next day after that to find your place easier.

So try and dismiss that you’ve been remiss
You couldn’t recognize the lies, or wouldn’t you?
Now you lost, stay, accost me, you’ve been crossed
Twice and again, now it costs too much for you
To pay with casual nonchalance
That seems to only help you use ignorance
Wrought cold dark iron cooled by taunts
Built in the burning wick of the seance
Formed in a life with no more jaunts
Because you gave ‘em up when you donned this mask.

Try to stay on task
Just stay on task
Don’t you dare to ask
What could make the mask mask the spirit?
Look down before you attempt to rear it

Somewhere, somehow, some time I lost mine
A memorable forgotten wispy bit of rhyme
That’s blankness in my head, I never lived that moment
A miscalculation blocking the blow meant
For me to stare at the starry prize
Bright lights staying,burning and melting my eyes
They’re easier to swallow like that you realize
But you know that the crocodile only cries
Only when he has safely donned his mask

Try to stay on task
Just stay on task
Don’t you dare to ask
What should make the mask mask the spirit?
Look in before you attempt to sear it

Now you’re running scared because you dared
To give in and listen to that bitch, temptation
So how have you fared now that you’ve stared
For too long, you won the contest in desperation
You couldn’t hide your face
She took up that empty place
The sanctuary from the race
Making sure you kept your pace
Now you’re no longer safe after you’ve donned this mask

Try to stay on task
Just stay on task
Don’t you dare to ask
What makes the mask mask the spirit?
Look out before you attempt to clear it

It’s shattered, sharded, should be discarded
But you now know, you can’t let go until you’re eaten by the crow
You shouldn’t see, a hollow me, trying to stand on a broken knee
It buckles, meets bleeding knuckles and all he does is chuckles
Why couldn’t you know how amusing is this?
The sensation is anything but adulterated bliss
It keeps me alive, cringing from the touch of a kiss
Discord meet unity and harmonize in the face so ferrous
That it might as well be that you have donned a mask

Try to stay on task
Just stay on task
Don’t you dare to ask
What makes the mask mask the spirit?
Look up before you start to fear it

]]> http://scornoflife.wordpress.com/2008/10/30/mask-your-spirit/feed/ 0 scornoflife http://scornoflife.wordpress.com/2008/10/20/fallen-egrets-regrets/ http://scornoflife.wordpress.com/2008/10/20/fallen-egrets-regrets/#comments Mon, 20 Oct 2008 18:01:02 +0000 scornoflife http://scornoflife.wordpress.com/?p=81 ]]> What do I regret? What don’t I regret? I don’t know the answer to your questions, I can’t help you my friend. Do I regret that though? Not really, after all I can’t answer my own questions, it’d be ridiculous for me to assume I could help someone else before myself.

I was raised on my knees in a church, my nose clasped between Gospels. Perhaps that’s why it’s so sensitive! Pathetic attempt met with resistance and summarily slaughtered like the good Samaritan it is. I know more about the bible than I am comfortable sharing with most of my friends. I was never really interested in the knowledge I had until I became an agnostic, the words were mumbled and my pronunciation,annunciation was filled with loathsome denial and tinged with remorse. I was angry for understanding I did not understand what I was saying, I did not believe. Anger at my parents for forcing their beliefs upon me, angry at myself for speaking the words I had never felt, even angry because there was no reason to believe. Hope?
Hope is weak,unbreakable.

It’s the nature of the universe to fucking piss me off.

Escape? I know how to escape, I know many ways to escape and exactly how easy it would be, especially for me, but the desire, conviction is lacking. I don’t succumb to temptation, perhaps it’s an obscenely high tolerance rendered unto me from my past life, perhaps it’s the intense and obsessive self control I constantly exert to deceive,lie to laugh, but never cry. Perhaps it’s the paranoia of losing control, of not directing my own wooden joints. The problem comes at the edge, verge of the pit though. It feels good and you, i want to give in. Put,weigh myself down, drench,soak myself up, do what was right by going left, do what was wrong by going right.

I regret my own mutilation,silence. I regret that two days ago I listened to a young woman explaining why she can’t name a rat Jessica, because during this year’s summer her boyfriend’s girlfriend died, thrown from the backseat of an open backed jeep as it rolled, leading to the hospital with a coma for mass head and body trauma, leading to her boyfriend being there for her as she slipped away and they unplugged the machines, leading to him losing his girlfriend of two years at the ages of 14 and 15,leading to him refusing to talk about it,get therapy but write about it, leading to everyone around gasping in revulsion,horror throughout the entire ordeal of the tale. And what else? sympathy, except me. All I can do is try emulating but I have no idea how! All I can think is at least he writes about what haunts him.

I regret my own mutilation,silence. I regret inflicting silence upon myself by inflicting it upon those I love, those I loved, those I wish I loved and even those I thought I loved. Nothing of any merit escapes this mouth, I refuse help. But it’s not because I think I don’t need it, I just don’t ask, I refuse to ask. My stubbornness,obsessiveness,fixation,refusal,denial is vile,poison eating away at the insides where I hide them for safekeeping,holding an inner boy,son. The walls are crumbling, brought down by three darts from the conquerors or from myself fighting to survive. I can’t see anymore, but that’s just me many sore-
Zuh wrought,brought about by my investigation.

Where the floor touches the door there’s a crack, no connection. It doesn’t touch! Why won’t it touch? Fuck it, what’s been up man? Where the gasp meets the scream, meets the cry meets the lie. Where the muscle meets bone only to be severed in a moment of agony as nerves explode in their dying convulsions. Without feeling are you even alive anymore?

Do I live in this fortress now? Am I to be imprisoned now? Is it against my will? Three questions and three answers. It’s not made of solitude, I am not he, it’s not regrets,  I am not he, it’s made of fear, am I me?

How can you take it all back? You can’t, like you said friend, but you can prevent yourself from repeating them, you can prevent yourself from going there again. Sometimes it’s simply an exertion of willpower, other times it’s because that one mistake haunts you, condemns you. Take it and like it you say? Once you force yourself to live with it you’ve made a choice, a choice that could have been a mistake. you can only make a choice if you have free will, you can only make a mistake if you have free will, you don’t have to be there again if you have free will, you can only make a choice if you still have control, you can only make a mistake if you still have control, you don’t have to be there if you still have control, you can only make a choice if you… you can only make a mistake if you… you don’t have to be there again if you… you can only make a… you can only make a…you don’t have to be there…should you ever have been there?

Brim and Grim only just met the other day
Grim was cold, clingy and never knew what to say
Grim never cared for what was wrong or what was right
In fact, he only seemed to like what was pleasing in his sight

Nobody could afford to try and let them fall
With sin setting in to all their skin in the midst of this squall
Grim forgot that he once knew the answer to his life’s bitter distortion
As his memory reached abortion

Grim negelcted everything he’d ever loved or valued
Within his wanton willingness of mood
Brim didn’t even know he existed
Until the mind became conflicted

If anyone or anything ever knew the answer
To why Grim was now dying, eaten by his cancer
They never said a word
To help Brim along as she saw this life as too absurd

“I fell off the edge
But he caught me all alone
But even he had his own strife
And held a heart of stone

He lied and cheated, even to his kin
Alone he came and alone he went
But even that was not enough
To make him repent

But tiresome eyes didn’t get bored
As his string was slowly shortened
I did not see myself and he
So no forgiveness I would lend”

Brim’s reflections in her eyes were all too sparse and varied
From day to day she wasted away till the day she…married
Happily now and forever in this mind
Can you finally see how you’ve been blind?

If not then tell me now though it shouldn’t matter
Because we’re all stuck in a place that doesn’t flatter
The mind or the brain when both could be insane
As you calmly swerve,
________________out of control,
___________and crash,
_____________________just trying,
______________________________to change a lane.

As to this collection itself, it’s as much for my benefit as it is for your entertainment. I write, prose is a bit different than poetry but I do try both.  I write verbally, speaking things out as I write them, or if it’s needed just thinking them as stream of soul. Poetry almost always sounds a certain way in my mind and I sometimes record the versions I like. If you’d like to hear a poem verbally leave a comment or e-mail me at nightssentinel@yahoo.com and I’ll post it with the poem.