Laments for a Mechanical Heart

inside this dream I delve 
through shadows to see 
silhouettes with sobriquets and 
pieces of me in you and 
soliloquies for the night 
a jackal inside a laughing brigade
presents himself inside this chamber 
of music
and so here I stand 
still 
for no more does blood satisfy
in the darkness of it all 
blackout the eyes of 
the auditorium and let the ancients
digress 
the machinery of night


to solve the riddle you must 
first write the clue
and forge the keys to this lock 
a heart with a jagged edge 
lays dormant inside 
this podium of glass 
a spectacle of social 
dissonance suffering it's 
penance 


here lays a totem for you 
a memory of sorts 
for these streets of grandeur 
are just dollhouse replicas
of a modern tragedy written 
by a scholars scribe 


inside a carnival of hearts and 
callow eyes 
wherein a lie becomes 
but another dangerous idea 
a cancer on the tongues of 
youth inside a dream 
of sexual immorality wrought 
with whiskey logic 
among harlequin hearts 
made of dust and ash


the morning after brings forth 
a new meaning to fall for 
something so fake 
and so this paper heart burns 
in the light of new day 
an era of missing moments 
comes forth 
tomorrow has come today 
even though 
today doesn't exist

Solipsism

exist not on this plane 
inside the mechanics of night 
and not one where the 
romance of the streets 
is but another suicidal 
dream from an apartment 
balcony 


sleep or be as it may
this summer mourning 
of sister saints and 
seraph eyes becomes a 
nostalgic heart for 
polaroid memories of 
last dances and callow 
nights 


believe not in a life where
the alchemy of us is 
a scar above the heart of 
individuality but
a paradox with a false positive
stuck inside a concrete void


the theatre of gods is 
dark tonight for 
the jackals have gathered 
to eat the cancer of ignorance 
with spoons and sarcastic laughs 
and cast their ballots for four 
dead hearts behind
smouldering podiums of ash 
that spit a litany of 
lies 


exist only inside yourself 
three layers deep 
subconscious retractions
of the idiot parade 
along the parallel lines 
of thought 


the great oxymoron
has been undone 
fervent dissertations 
wrought with metaphors for 
murder 
a hopeless romantic hangs 
in limbo for 
the confessions of a callow 
heart
come now sleep...

Built by a Scarred Heart

welcome now all who care 

to the final act 

a stoic dance for a dying 

heart 

fallen hard on bended knee 

for today starts just the 

same as every other 

with a grey cloud of thought 

a snow incased body 

lost and left to the 

sidelines of screaming arrows 

and stopwatch hearts with 

mirrorball confessions 

so now please tear away

this soiled flesh and 

rebirth this still

beating heart held together 

by a tourniquet of 

sorts

thus the story begins for 

these are the confessions of a 

marionette with held 

emotions that collect dust 

letting the weight become 

the pain of a thousand words 

wrought inside a minds eye 

for she is everything 

death and love 

every inch of this tied 

flesh 

the seraph speaks in tongues 

and lies 

she is the unattainable to this 

heart 

a dream that stays as is 

cloaked by daggers and dark 

a story not meant to be or 

be believed 

just another haunt for 

hearts staggering through 

the romance of the streets inside

the machinery of night 

and so the story goes 

for harlequin hearts with 

eyes wrought of tears 

falling for sheltered and 

shadowed souls we

cry no more yet 

you are still held tight 

inside this heart now 

cold 

a soul lost inside this 

darkened hallway where 

we all pretend that 

everything is made a dust 

and ash and so we suffer 

inside callowness 

time to grow and be 

believe in you 

become something 

worthy of all that is 

and will ever be 

tomorrow is a new day 

breathe in 

breathe out 

consume the dust and ash 

of rebirth 

pull the trigger 

eliminate the old 

shed this soiled flesh 

become like stone 

once and for all 

 

Painting a Picture of Sorrow and Redemption with Words

pierce the veil of

subconsciousness

while you carve a heart

from flesh and bone

a shadow of a life past

inside a dimly lit chamber

for muses under moons

open the vein and

let the ink out to dry

bleeding hearts purge love

onto blank pages

left in plain sight for

all to read

and the moral to this is

tomorrow never comes

because today is always

the same

hang these eyes high

above the open window

rhetoric of

a waiting room inside

a stopwatch heart

with wrists cut for

soliloquies and shadows

of other peoples whores

destined to be and longing

for something else

so where does it go

from here

the writing on the wall

is so much clearer in the

dark light of the moon

read between the lines my dear

and the truth you shall see

fear not sweetheart

the blood is not mine

tether the reins and

hold fast the chaos of saints

peel back this skin

for flesh and bone wait

to crumble like the dust

of fathers past

forgive me

for I have sinned

come now my dear and

follow the white rabbit

down this hole

take this bitter pill with me

and bury it all

come now and see what

I see

lets walk into this

new sin hand in hand

this revelry of bleeding out

push the needle in and on

to the end

move forward and leave it

all behind this curtain of

sin

exit stage left and

gather the dust of what

once was and will never

be

start again

today is a new day

Self-Inflicted Creation and Damnation

black to white and 
grey to red 
the blood of saints makes 
sinners smile 
viral within a world 
so cold to touch 
and sweet to feel 
so take this heart and 
drain the...


let this new day come 
strike one black 
and then light it again 
for the now the devil has 
spread his wings
a birth to invention 
for fake hearts 
mothering the weak and 
damned 
this harlot forsaken 


and so she bleeds her heart 
over moons and stars 
while servants and slaves 
eat her scars and lick 
the wounds 
a beautiful scene set against 
the fire


this sorrow has held 
you for way to long 
so gather the pieces now 
and collect yourself 
become the new day 
and sail on though with 
wings of lead 


take your tears and 
wash away the tides 
that plague 


locked now
cold inside this dark room 
breathe 
that old familiar smell 
of futures and endings 
lay the page at your 
feet 
and welcome the angel 
with arms at your side 
today is the new day 

Being Selfless is the Most Selfish a Person can Be.....

twenty years on and the 
weight still holds
blood stained face from 
tears and ash 
muzzled by faith and 
misfortune for thought 
tortured by cloth and crowns 
and the screams still go unheard 
through these paper thin walls 
made of glass hearts 


the great they say that 
tomorrow is just a new day 
but do the they mean to 
forget all that has 
brought you to this point and 
if so 
how does one forget 
death depression and rape 
tell me how 


these dreams linger 
and haunt 
pervading wake and sleep 
fetal from these truths 
and stories distant to all 
complexion pale 
from this depress


a shoulder for a 
thousand sorrows but 
my own 
a million selfless acts 
putting forth persons first 
the old self has died 
welcome this cold black 
and heartless shell 
now

tourniquet (heartsick)

alone is not the answer 
to this never ending question 
punch a hole through 
this heart and let 
the dust settle 
push forward the needle 
inject the filth 
high on fire for 
the fear hurts more
than the drugs


temper the iron to scald 
stitch the wound
reset what once was 
a junkie for love
an addict with a heartsick 
song on his sleeve 
a hopeless romantic 
left to wander these streets
at night


this tenement of ash holds 
hearts that suffer over 
stars and swoon for suns 
sorrowed 
the cenotaph tells these
stories on stone for 
all to read before the 
tourniquet becomes a 
noose

Persephone's Tears

the shedding of leaves 
and the weeping portrait 
a harvest song wrought with a sorrowed 
heart 
winter soon comes 


the autumn forest comes alive 
at dusk 
for once of summer we sit 
and wait for the sun to come 
with arms tied close
I had this heart and soul 
embracing desire 
forever breathing 


hold fast these hands with 
stopwatch hearts and matchbox tears
sealed inside bell jars for 
southern belles 
collected emotions for sale 
to the highest bidder 


amber skies fade to midnight 
eyes and now 
she is lost to the soil 
and seed 
summer flowers smoldered
litter the forest floor at my feet 
and so this endeavour goes
a fortnight on and on 
but to no avail 
she has succumbed to the call 
descending through the dark
a stairwell through the dust 
and ash of 
buried souls and lost hearts 


the harvest song has now been 
sung and winter 
falls forth a desolate life stuck 
frozen inside the fear 
of failing and destined 
to be alone for all time 


years pass on and still 
this heart beats her name 
waiting for the sun to set 
for tonight
we will be together again 
inside this midnight over 
the moon 

Invalid to You and Anyone Else That Cares.....

allow for change to become 

let the dark waters recede

drain the tears 

over cloth and stone 

for the things we leave won't 

amount to much 

but scars and seams 

take this dollhouse reality 

and burn it down for 

plastic hearts are meant 

to melt 

a summer love that never was 

reveals itself 

from the shadows 

and kills the dust 

encase this heart 

plug it in 

inside this jar of clay 

and leave it to beat 

a siren song for all eternity 

closed inside four walls 

come now full circle 

dreams inhabit this 

hovel an auditorium of dying

where silhouettes of jackals

hold cadaver hearts and canvas'

with hollow eyes and harlequin smiles

a riddle of missing moments 

and the thievery of night 

pasture the weak for 

it's their only chance against 

bullets and bad dreams 

leave your breath on the 

glass like an exhibit of 

interest for all to see 

but here it is 

removed of the warmth 

of truth held inside a 

fragile frame

slow moves the curse of loss and 

reverence amidst setting suns 

and wolf moons 

with numb fingers devoid 

of the warmth of solitaires' 

hand 

for everyone I love is dead 

faded to black ink 

stuck on blank page

take these paper wrists

and make wings 

fold and cut them and hold 

them close to this 

jar of hearts

for they search for a 

truth of sorts inside 

dark waters wrought 

with tears ink ash 

blood and stone

a wishing well 

with a black soul 

A Rose for Her Memory

she is a ghost to this world
left to whither away
like a dying rose
her ashes smoulder on the forest floor
left for an unwatched eye


her soul prevails only
to fulfil a vendetta
set in script
where her story unfolds
for her makers shadow


a thousand words
cannot describe the pain
she feels on the sun
a pheromone lust
written in the stars
constant and avoided


time stands still
under the moon
a ring of misfortune
surrounding her heart
the blood drains
from her eyes
like the tears of
a virgin


an offering to the gods
that hold their eyes
over the clouds


a pestilence brings
forth new crisis
in her already
weighted heart
forever lost inside her mind


there she waits
outside of steel a cage of stone
the gates are closed
to her new home

The Seraph (A Song for Lost Hearts)

I welcome this to life 
once again a bittersweet taste 
lost long to this day 
a thirst forsaken of 
harlequin hearts now set 
forth inside this scene 
within a dream 
thus this story begins 
so enjoy the show 


inside the auditorium sits
the jackal with whispered 
secrets on his breath 
a podium of glass and sand 
holds fast the crowd stuck 
inside a dance macabre 
a masquerade of sorts 


her I stand amidst 
a soliloquy for a missing 
moment pulled close 
a scent of sweet 
in the air 
bodies broke and twist like 
bones and plastic snakes stuck 
between sheets bearing 
paper hearts and needled stars


and through the ash and dust sits 
the seraph with starlit eyes 
vermilion skin and a vanilla smile 
a Juliet inside the 
machinery of night 
where paper hearts leave 
ink scars on silk sleeves 
and the canvas of eyes 
on all hallows eve


welcome now to the 
theatre of dark and shade
where an ado 
of fervour tempt and tease 
exist inside Dionysian 
temples of concrete filled 
with the devils wine 


inebriated innocence of hearts 
that beat or bleed on this eve
a quintessence of sorts 
an alchemy of you and I 
and so she pulls in tight 
tongue tied


the siren song of night 
fades to dust and ash 
of mourning suns filled 
with sin 
somnolence now 
goodnight my love 
goodbye...

but just another...

matchbox tears and bell jar hearts
mirrorball dreams made of 
broken glass 
polaroid memories 
of days gone past 
a love letter written in stone 
melodies with no meaning 
an endless search for purpose...


and there sits the clown with the jackal 
whispering secrets of sorrowed 
indiscretions with 
cheap cigars and bathtub whiskey 
in the dark of the theatre 
the walls keeping the laugh 
contained 


even in the light of it all 
life is but another joke 
up the comedians sleeve 
the queen of hearts triumphs 
over white diamonds 
and spades
where we all just pretend 
that its all made of sand