A Pessimistic View On the Subject Of Gardening

I’ll give an explanation later . . .

The Garden

 There in the midst of beauty sought

The voices of faceless strangers and weary creatures

Bend and mold and stagger with helplessness

Drowned in charity and loved in regret

Oh the blinding! Oh my drunkenness!

Comfort the desolate serenade the despaired

And leave me with my own devices

These selfish desires that leave me wounded

Abandoned from the sweet kiss of time

Oh season of autumn how you bleed into winter

How your children sing with the freezing waters

There is no peace there is no sense of anything

Only the howling of sirens and cursed ambition

For the silent sing songs to only dream

And their hearts riddled with passion

Their minds rot with hope to see the sun

Their faith left dying in the twilight

For they swear there is beauty in a garden

They swear there is hope beyond the horizon

But monsters bear monsters and there is only burning

The memories forgotten become violent storms

The waters take the shape of isolation

And where is home when the silence is drowned?

Where is heaven in the darkest of skies?

And where is freedom in the confines of chains?

For I know the sorrows of old

Her gloom the unwanted shadow

The bastard child of light and decay

And before me lies the beauty of desperate want

Dying helplessly in the gardens they grew

. . . actually I don’t feel like giving an explanation but believe me it’s not meant to be “pessimistic” in anyway and should be more liberating than anything. Paradoxical I know with the image of “beauty dying”, but “beauty” in this poem should be read as more of an antithesis to joy or love as opposed to a product. That’s all I’m going to say but I hope that helped and remember someone somewhere loves you.

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The Ballerina Who Dreamt She Was A Pilot

FYI: The title has absolutely no relevance to this post.

So it’s been a month . . .

This poem’s called Oh Beautiful Beautiful

 

Oh Beautiful Beautiful

Motionless and waiting 

Dare I cry the name of love’s lost melodies?

For once I held them in my aching palms

And loved them

They were precious to me 

And they cried back to me

Harmonious and insufferable

Fixtures of an erroneous race

Lost are the days 

And the moments

Swallowed by the darkened rooms

Where we rest our little heads

And ghouls now bellow their lost art

I am a tapeworm

I am an architect of dreams

Of nightmarish cinema

Fingers rotten and memories overturned

Oh beautiful beautiful

Paint the skies 

My wretched song

My shadowy fortress

And the lines pour in and out

Spilling over the metaphysical

Imprinted and betrayed

These walls where my body hangs in pieces

But the melodies

Drown 

Reduce 

Spoil

And call my name 

Oh pity me God in heaven

Am I not your son?

Oh tragic love

Love agonizing and spit out

These words

These demons 

My salvation

Forget me oh wondrous melodies

Let me love the sick hands of time

Of manufactured emotions of tenderness and regret

Let me get lost in it’s embrace of fabricated freedom

Where my love was drowned in a river of sorrow

Oh and how she beckoned

But how I sauntered

Oh beautiful beautiful

Know how I loved you

And how I sang your sweet songs

 

Story: Make one up for yourself you’ll like your version better than mine.

Morale of the story: Singing is better than not not singing.