the result of having gone through experience.

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.] -

amidstreality:

jazz improv, take one.

to be quite honest, I should list out a couple of things:

• the sound quality is horrid, I know - this is what happens when the best recording equipment you have is a phone,
• thank you to lostsunsets for editing out a lot of the background fuzz,
• this is not completely jazz, but I hope it is reminiscent enough of it,
• yes you will be hearing a hint of pop songs here and there, because they’re the chords I based this improv off of
• don’t kill me.

prepares to be slaughtered

life, silly old thing, got in the way.

I have ideas pouring out of my head - but unfortunately reality tends to curb them to the side and says ‘shoo.’

I will finish writing, eventually.

At my own pace.

‘yes!’
he trembles,
‘steer where need meets neglect.’

‘be the wreck!’
she pretends to sell
herself; veers there -
where respect crept.

‘he’ll-‘
(breed heresy.) 

‘she’ll-‘
(greet hell.)

‘keep her!’
ten peers jeer -
peek where she’s penned.
‘she’s the exception!’ 

‘where-‘
(she spells,
etches letters,
vents where veneers were left -
effervescence wrenched.)
‘there?’ 

 (based on the yeahwrite! prompt: one vowel to be used for every word.)

snakes entwine around her neck
a little bite, a little trail
of blood runs down her neck
so carefully veiled with an air of dignity.

‘yes, dear queen?’

‘bow, you mortal.’

intelligence runs rampant amongst her mind
who to kiss
who to order
who to kill
like a short list of names intended for death row
she carefully gazes at each image as her eyes roll back
and her breath grows short

‘yes, dear queen?’

‘bow, bow.’

she can feel the power brushing over her arms
over her neck where lovers had long since gone
and pecked, moaned upon
whilst she had grabbed their minds
and put them aside in a invisible flasks
she could only see
whilst flesh pressed against flesh
underneath entangled sheets.

veni

for her blue blood

vidi

for her people

vici.

if only.

‘yes, dear queen?’

‘yes…’

the fruit rolls out of her lifeless hand
her limbs become lifeless
she breathes.

in

out

in

out

as a scream pierces across the ocean
and a brave soul sets himself on fire
stabs himself through the chest
let the ashes of their love rise with his soul

they were only just infinitesimal gasps of wind.

‘yes, my dear queen?’

‘queen?’

gold shimmers as the light fades
goddess, was she not?

if only she were love. 

I have a dream, that one day

these rough winds will shake the darling buds of may-

Viva la revolucion!

May these plans come to fruition!

For once upon a midnight dreary,

all that I saw, just seemed

to be a dream within a dream

But I,

I will take the road less travelled by

And that will make all the difference!

I refuse to go gentle into that good night!

(Nevermore, nevermore)

For I am angry with my foe!

And, I have told you

So it may grow.

For if I’ve killed one man, I’ve killed two

(They always knew it was you)

So let us tread carefully

For you tread on their dreams

Let us rip apart their ideas at their seams

(O Captain, My Captain)

They will all try to cry

(Walk the deck, my Captain lies

Fallen cold and dead.)

there was once a girl

whose mind would unfurl

and there was no certain solution

so to ascertain her mind

she assembled her kind

and marched into the institution.

but life was not fun

so she grabbed hold of a gun

and started her own revolution.

and here they all say

‘this is where she will slay!

to fulfil her own retribution!’

‘what guilt?’ she replies

and cocks her gun to the side

‘we’re just the evolution.’

a la folie!

To insanity they pray

as humanity faces execution.

let’s make this short

let’s make this quick

we’ll write in jagged lines

like teen heartstrings that have been strung

far too 

few

times

I’ll talk about touches, lipstick stains

the thought of missing you again

and here we have the final product -

a poem that acts like one but really isn’t.

Quick, split!

What is mind’s wit?

A playful thing that’s carefully knit

Or loose heartstrings and of reason that clings

To bear a notion that we are all sane?

Same?

Insane?

Oh, what would it matter!

Among all the world and society’s chatter

Here!

There!

You’re there, everywhere!

In minds of people all around

Isn’t that what you have found?

Oh, oh no?

You’re thinking twice?

Of all things sweet, spicy and nice?

Or maybe you’re tracing

Steps that you’re making

Backwards, forwards

Leftwards, waywards

All the paths that one could take!

But I, I took the one less travelled by!

And that has made no difference!

For where are we, but from somewhere that was?

Or someone that could?

Or from something that should?

Does it matter where all of this leads?

From up to down

Or left to right

Or north to south!

Because let’s face it

I’ve made you stare

From here

You’re there

That’s just life’s little dare.

Whose mind would betwixt these words and conjure up fate
that had long been denied. To a spirit that is survived by these three alone:

inspiration, sweat, and tears.

Whose favours would last in the last slivers of seconds
when the night bell tolled and the moon could howl
because the wolves had long gone to their rest
and the lines of paper had grown to scowl.

Oh, how this ode should attest
To the beauty of this spirit, who was at best
A schemer, a liar, and above all things
A wonderful companion whom only slumber could bring!

And behold, dear friends, who step on this now
Tread carefully
For you tread on what seems
To be a fearfully crafted monstrosity
Whom only these letters could grow to love.

On the eve of an autumn night
Let our eyes gaze upon the
Blithe breath that was

(or perhaps, is) 

Me. 

There’s an ounce of faith in

Twisted words of ink that flow
down
    pages 

Into blotches that leave infitnitesmal
   memories; records of times that have long
 soaked through the pages and stain themselves
    into flecks of dirt that happened to befall upon
      rough edges paper. 

There’s an ounce of faith in

People that pass you by walking parallel side by side
And could do no less than confide
Their secrets through brushes of hands, a mere                

‘sorry,
I beg you dear sir, I mean no harm!’

With rapid eye dashes that escape with breaths
Of words on tips on tongues being left unsaid

There’s an ounce of faith in

Hearing a note soak through the air

Rising

Falling

Going off

melodic lines and betraying

whatever sentiment there was.

and with that mistake that room rises into laughter

So I could only dare to enquire
Desire, admire, and as much my soul tires
When moments like rain come pouring down

Why won’t your emotions dance?