I'm losing focus, I need to concentrate- take a moment to contemplate, lean back and smile, listen to the words that pour from her mouth. I can't look her in the eyes in case she can see through me, because I'm crumbling underneath, through my eyes she can see, a devious man, im not what I say I am...I am nothing but empty words, comforting fabrications you see? That make you weak at the knees, caught in this web of deceit. You think I'm everything you've ever dreamed of, but I'm your worst nightmare mate. I will bend you to my whim- a mere puppet in a twisted game of cat and mouse. But you see I've played this game before; I've got a lot of practice you might say. And do not doubt that I will most assuredly have my way- but you will most certainly never have me. Because I'm a luminous stone, a golden fictitious hue, cold and unnatural like things that stare back at you, And how I stare at you, from behind a one way mirror, the eyes I stare through, from which she can see clearer, into this wall of cracking stone. And now perhaps you ponder why? But the most fucked up thing is...so do I...so do I. After this game we played, the thrill of the chase, but me, nah, fuck it, I dont give a shit.
Time...is creeping along, and I can feel myself sinking. Falling deeper, slowly submerging into the stillness of the cold night air, the silence of this lifeless room. Engulfing me...Consuming my thoughts, Devouring my dreams, night by night. Every moment, each instance seems to slip through my fingers as the sands of time trickle through- Grain by grain, second by second, Falling into the past, Descending far down below, until there is nothing left, but forgotten memories. The day is lost, and tomorrow fast approaches. I find myself wondering...what lies in wait? As the grains, they aggregate, and the sand, it accumulates- Slowly...oh so slowly... The bulb empties, and all that remains of me, is a lifeless silence, and windswept dust. So I lie here in wait.. still I lay here in wait...
You want to say something good, you want me to write something enthralling, captivating... ...but I want to write something because...I need to know, I need to show myself... my thoughts... Touch them, grasp them... know them like cold hard things, that are measured and bound, calculated, tabulated... answered by fingers on a hand. But I can't quite grasp them, I can't clasp onto it... these deep blue swelling tides, bubbling, unfurling,,, it is... what this is...I feel,,,nothing...I think... everything...is slipping away, Nothing... is all I have, these thoughts...are all I have, but they are...they are nothing, nothing but yet...everything?... Everything... I cannot escape, but I must hold on hope, until morning light beckons, and that crisp callow air seeps through, the darkness of the night fades away, to be lost for another day until tomorrow comes...until tomorrow comes...
I thought this time it would be differrent, but I lay here alone, once again, I don't quite know, I can't quite place it. So I put paper to pen, my only two friends. From my thoughts, I must be rescued, and so I return to you, my last refuge. I have forsaken your hallowed halls for many moons now, but once again I must turn to you now, to show me how- My only guide to help me through- my only light to reveal the truth, and quell those thoughts that go astray, I hope I can see and find my way, I pray I will make it through these days, of darkness to come, the sadness which will follow, here alone in these blessed hallows. where this story shall remain, retained in time. hidden here until someone should find, this moment, laying dormant; left here to ferment, these dreams once dreamt, waiting idly by until conjured once more, from the thin cold air- Long after this this little life, has been rounded in an eternal sleep.
*** ONLY FOR THE NIGHT Another day creeps up on me. I awake to the gentle sounds that loft up from far below, soaring high up into these stone built canopies, to here besides me where rests a stranger. Her face appears from the darkness, as the light surrounds her, Seeping through the curtains, flooding the room in a warm orange hue. Whisperings of life echo from the garden, and soon the day shall begin anew. Here I lay here awake, falling into that deep abyss from whence I cannot escape. I try to recollect those events that transpired the night before. Fragments of moments bubble and spill over in quiet whispers spoken inside, Unfurling in my mind, as I try to unwind and sink below to find those lost memories. Where am I? Who is she? What was her name? A wave of anxiety washes over me, from whence I submerge into this silent apathy. Those blurry remnants now accumulated, the events of the night now reincarnated, Between these few cubic centimetres. I remember…something? Sweat dripping, bodies heaving; teaming masses stirring in the darkness. Under the flickering of neon lights and those enchanting eyes that cast their light far down below, into this hallowed grotto where none but us two can follow, to bear witness to this instance. I look at her; that beastly desire swells up once again within of me. Our bodies gently rise and fall in these peaks and troughs. The humming of the bedside fan, The ticking of the dusty clock that hangs on the empty walls – Cascading ripples of sound in the dimly lit motionless room. A thick blue duvet covers us, here where we huddle together in the covers of darkness, Here where we lay sheltered briefly from dismaying reality. For these few brief moments, we remain wrapped in this apperceived fabrication of sensuality. Yet as that surging feeling subsides, clarity enshrouds me – Those memories come flooding back and my thoughts scatter like shimmers of the moon. I try to grasp them but they run through my fingers, and back into that deep empty stillness. In my mind I see the images – these moments of time now forever ingrained in this thinking mind. I see her across the room. Wide eyed blue emeralds stare back at me, I feel myself becoming lost in them. The words she speaks fade into the background, and my eyes inspect every facet of her pale delicate face. Her plump red lips move so very gracefully as those gentle oscillations continued to pour from her mouth. Her slim figure is draped in a long flowing crimson red dress, which flutters in her every subtle movement. Her wide hips, her thick scarlet lips and slender appendages that touch me so softly, embrace me so lovingly, Captivate me in this misty haze of ecstasy. It seems I could not help but be enchanted, enthralled by her every word. The folds and curves of her body scream fertility, and so I readily listen to her, take her in my hands and lead her outside. Yet I could not shake the feeling that perhaps danger lurks in wait, under this seemingly innocent surface. We arrive at mine, she looks at me and I know – That game she thinks we’re playing, all those subtle signs she keeps conveying. But I know, I see her ways, those ways that women have control. But into their dreams I have seen many moons ago, when once foolishly I tried to take a mere slice of my own, But plundered far down below, into darkened recesses of the soul. Here is where lays the desires of men, Hidden from view, and now bidden unto those few who choose to act without restraint, Those few who dare not abstain from the darkness; that primitive desire which lays dormant. I roll the note tight, Close my eyes to block my sight, and partake again of those forbidden fruits. And with that powdered remedy, come’s this deceitful empathy; Happiness with chemistry. With it she readily takes me by the hand – These best laid plans of mice and men that often go askew. I grasp her tightly by the wrist, and lead her into the room of a stranger, where I confine her, and I gently incline her. Here we lay intertwined together under the covers of darkness – fervently caressing and touching, clutching onto, seeping into one another; in this seemingly tender embrace of lovers. She incites me, invites me to delve further still. Those words of manipulation, these actions of deception, begin to reveal their prevailing potency. Congesting her mind with carnal lust, stroking her voluptuous curves, her shimmering blonde hair; Whispering tenderly into her ear; I know exactly what she wants to hear. Yet when the moment comes, for us consummate this union, procreate in unholy matrimony; I hesitate to instigate the final act. I withhold that beastly desire, for my inhibitions conflict in me, and restrict me from defiling her innocence, in this moment of weakness, My mind lost in these sweltering thoughts. Creeping through the hide amongst cracks of the wall, Seeping through I see them fall, the shawl of reality, the thread of causality I follow far off into the distance. I will hurt her, I will reject her, I will most assuredly neglect her. I will refrain from her advances, I will retain those prolonged glances, from across the room, where we once kissed so tenderly in the silver light of the moon. And so I refrain, and hold her gently, embrace her tenderly; hold her lovingly in the yellow callow daylight, until she fades away into that slumber from which she cannot awake. Here alone, I wait patiently and unmovingly, until she opens her eyes unexpectedly, and gazes unto me, still confused in lethargy, but still smiles and kisses me tenderly. We share a few brief words of kindness, one last kiss of tenderness by the door; but then we part our separate ways, never to meet for the rest of our days. I find myself left wondering, will she even remember my name? ***
How many are more concerned with their own writing, how it may be perceived by others? Do a majority of us truly come here to gain insight into writing? Or merely to share our creations? Stroke our ever inflating ego's? Perhaps even pertain to some ideal that perhaps we are intelligent, and seek confirmation of this fact? Listen, I'm not trying to get all preachy on y'all, because even I admittedly don't take enough interest in other peoples work, and have those narcissistic qualities highlighted above. But, I understand and appreciate, that "in the last analysis, everyone is a human being", and so we are all capable of greatness, while we may not necessarily achieve it in our lives. In a similar manner, I don't think one can truly critique art - we all have this innate ability to create this entity, which is essentially an open concept. Always changing in the collaborative eyes of society, and while you may have personal preferences to what you find "pleasurable" art, this is of course your prerogative as a living, thinking, free human being. But, I think this writing forum should be less about critiquing the parts you don't like, but highlighting how something is good, and has this intangible, indefinable "value". For if we are to define literature, as essentially art, then what is its purpose? How do we as human beings, derive pleasure from its inception and creation? I think this is an almost impossible answer to formulate, for if we were to ask everyone on this forum, I'm sure the answers would be unique to every individual queried. In this regard, I suppose we refrain from critiquing, and focus more on understanding each others work, highlighting strengths, and seeing the stories behind these individual works of art, many of which, along my own that is, are destined to be lost in the great abyss of time. Let's give each others work the value and time it deserves, for however brief it may be, and however little contribution we may give. I'm not really sure if my argument is particularly coherent, so please feel free to refute below in the comments section.
In those glowing embers, that fading crimson hue, these remenants that remain, those moments of time ingrained in my mind, in between the fickering shadows, that decietful darkness, where these pictures unfurl in the quiet stillness, the ashes of my soul, those dreams once told, now mere echoes that unfold, in quiet whispers spoken inside, These days of silent reflection, meditation, now I abstain, remain in darkness, turn away and sink far below here alone I wait, here where none can follow, deep in the hallows, in this lonesome tavern, deep within this lowly cavern where those few captured moments unwind hidden inside this crumbling mind, in the firing of neurons, protons, photons that defy conception, these moments of reflection, it was my never my intention, and should refrain from the mentioning, but i cannot contend, nor pretend anymore, and while I am sure of what must be done, it seems I lack rhe courage, to stand and rise tall, forever destined to fall, deeper still into the darkned abyss, I will die and none will miss nor shall have ever shown, or will it ever be known, that I had ever lived at all. Leave me here, to shed these hopeless tears, and in mouring shall I live these remaining years.
Inspired by this song (its lovely) http://grooveshark.com/#!/s/Dragonfly+Across+An+Ancient+Sky/3gHsvN?src=5 Like broken lines and shattered bones, empty remnants of what was once a timid callow creature grown, roaming the tall willow tree's, between yellow and green waxy leaves from whence he grew above the scarlet red prickly yew that adorns the forest floor. A shimmering silver web pours forth from these spindly hind legs, where here he lays patiently for many moons, till soon the time came for him to rise, set forth and travel through those lofty valleys he once gazed upon so admiringly, longingly off into the distance from far down below. Passing by on a cool summers breeze, across the sweeping tundra, plundering under the darkened depths, To find those secrets lost in that great abyss of time. Here I am - a man now, from this young seedling sown, having flown across the deep blue skies, cotton white clouds that loft high and soar far above these stone built canopies. These moments, those bare decrements of hazy days gone by, lost as I float through the ocean skies, forgotten as time continues to saunter along, Beneath me, nothing seems to complete me. Cursed to aimlessly ride the breeze like the gentle waves of the turquoise seas, wandering along, pondering on, forever cursed to sing this hopeless song.
Hey guys, been writing on my lonesome for a while now, and havnt been showing it to anyone. The reason for this is I thought I'd take a little more time to hone my craft, but obviously my inquisitive nature has brought me back here, for I would like to know what you guys, namely, me peers that is, think of some stuff I've been writing recently. While I'm not looking for a critique, I would like to know what you think they mean, and whether you like them or not. Thanks in advance, I hope you guys enjoy. ONCE MORE: Yeh I know whats wrong, i know i can't keep going on. Yeh I know ive done it before, I've fucked up again im sure. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, I roll the dice, Once more; Me and her like an endless war, Who the hell's keeping score? Thrice, I think? I need to sink, shut the door; but still I throw the dice, till my heart is cold as ice. This cursed vice, me and melancholy like wood in a vice- squeezing tighter and tighter, pressing closer and closer, Each and every fiber, breaking at the britches, unraveling at the stitches. Twice, thrice, Once more; I cant take it anymore, how she entices me, and i advance on her, like vermin, stomped on mice. A firefly whirling perilously around an enchanting fire- It seems i never tire, stuck in this hopeless mire. I try to tame, that crimson flame, which burns inside me, Divides me, Presides over me. Keep it from showing, the darkness within; Keep them from knowing, this silent suffering. But I cannot pretend, or defend myself, Herself; Once more, She calls out to me, taken by this alluring apathy. In but a trice, spliced on my mind, i need to unwind, sink below, into that hallowed grotto, where none can follow, swallow, take it down, keep on smiling, Once more, Mr Sad Clown. DO YOU KNOW? Do you know? Do you hear the sounds that loft up from afar? Floating here on an empty spec of dust, the light that travels from those distant stars, to bear witness to this instance. These fragments of moments I try to write down, capture in these words, in language created by man, who once roamed these lands, with great herds of wild beasts, until we emerged from beneath, those unkempt cannopies, deshevilled remenants of prehistory. Back where her great majesty still grew untamed, back when these lands were still unnamed. Wanderers floating along the great green seas, traversing the un-comprehendable vastness. Secrets of moments past lost in that great abyss, The boundless cosmos- its furthest extremities unbeknowst to me. The creatures of the heavens, that shine their light down below. So many incarnations, Reincarnations, Incantations written in rhyming verse; to ease this weary traveller, in each and every stanza, I find the truth in these moments, in that great expanse; Here I am, living, breathing, feeling, knowing what is to be alive, be free of my subconcious mind, and embrace all of nature and its beauty; The tall oak tree's, The bumbling bee's and babbling brook, the gracefull giraffe and galloping gazelle, the sweeping tundra, seeping under, great stone castles that tear the skies asunder. the crackling of thunder, deep below I plunder to hear, those sounds from afar, hidden in the distant past. These fragments of you and me, to never be known and lost in history.
Lives of decadence and extravagance, wasting time, yet they claim precedence. My mind withering away when the sun hides his weary face. So many eons yet to come, to be surveyed by its eternal gaze. Moments merging into one another, melting into the great expanse, but a glimmer in the waters surface. an infintesimal slice of everything that is, all that will ever be. Connected and intertwined by these shackles, in that binding chain of moments, undulating here, attenuated by these walls, trapped in mortality, wrapped in this false reality. Lost in the great abyss, on a floating spec of dust wandering this lonesome emptiness, the boundless cosmos until eternity has past, beyond that last inevitable gasp I shall one day take, that empty slumber from which I shall never awake, into fragments of moments i shall remain, retained in thinking minds ingrained in time, in that great infinite chain, the motions of a dial, the ticking of the clock Here I am, and here I shall remain.
Pouring through the window panes, the light that doth eb and flow into caloused hands, across that deep emptiness; uncomprehendable vastness; Secrets of moments past hidden inside an effulgent glow. That long lost empty stretch of time; witnessed and comprehended, the winding path lays behind me; unfurls and bends before me; Into shadowed silluoettes in the distance. They call out through the emptiness, its enchanting melody, telling me of that great mystery. Inventions, fabrications, distortions of the mind. These falible perceptions, wavering oscillations, in a world of unknowns; a world that can never be shown; with these hardened hands, this inferior mind; Perhaps with time. Mere probabilities, unfathomable entities, that are nothing, yet somehow they are me; so what am I? I think... am I something?
I spot her across the room, she looks at me and i know, this game she thinks we're playing, all those subtle signs she keeps conveying, but I know... I see her ways, those ways that women think they have control; but into their dreams I have seen once many moons ago, when foolishly I tried to take a mere slice of my own, but plundered far down below, into darkened recesses of my soul, where the desires of men lay hidden; and then bidden unto me, was a false smile to hide what lays beneath; and with that powdered remedy, comes this deceitful empathy; happiness with chemistry; and with it she readily takes me by the hand; these best laid plans of mice and men that go often askew; Now that surging feeling boils to the brim within me, that sense of knowing, becoming what I thought I never would, I thought I never could. That desire to consummate, to procreate; has lead me here to this darkened place. Her incepting my bullshit, ingesting each and every one of those comforting fabrications, congesting her mind with carnal lust; stroking her voluptuous curves, her shimmering blonde hair, whispering tenderly into her ear, I know exactly what she wants to hear; and now she's here, in the room of a stranger. where I've confined her, and I gently incline her, intertwined together under the covers of darkness, fervidly caressing and touching, cluthing onto, seeping into one anothher, in this seemingly tender embrace of lovers. She incites me, invites me to delve further still; merging, melting, sweltering in the flickering of blue and red lights under the glittering night sky. Sweat dripping, bodies heaving, teeming masses stirring in the darkness; conceding to, completing eachother... Yet in an instance, after we seem to trancend time and space itself, when the moment seems to end suddenly; abruptly are we returned to dismaying reality. When that beastly desire has been tamed; do we realize that this was all mere fantasy, bur an illusion of sensuality. Now I lay here awake whilst she sleeps an unwakeable slumber; into the that deep abyss I plunder. In between these sheets of peaks and troughs that gently rise and fall in the silence of the morning hush; wrapped in contemplation, trapped in deliberation, palpating and remediating in quiet introspection, The callow light creeps through the curtain, flooding the room in a warm orange hue; whispering's or life echo from the garden, and soon the day shall begin anew; as I wait here patiently and unmovingly, till she opens her eyes unexpectedly, and gazes unto me, still confused in lethargy, but still smiles and kisses me tenderly, embraces me lovingly; but then we will most surely part out seperate ways, never to meet again for the rest of our days, I wonder if she'll even remember my name? This brief meeting, the moment so fleeting; and now she will never get to see, all I had to give her, all I could have given her. So it remains that only bitter memories I retain, which seemingly fade away into nothingness, mere reflections in its still shim-erring surface, where there were once dreams of greatness, but now deep below they are left to fester and decay, clinging to fragments of my soul, till one day there is nothing left but me in hole; left to slowly rot away, Yes I will die one day, or so I hope and pray.
Sitting here yet again, this nightly respite for the dissolute, where one stares at the bare walls, trying to think of nothing; and clear the mind of knowing; of those hollow dreams that fade away into the silence of the night. What am I still doing here, awake at such a late hour? Thinking away these lowly nights in wakeful slumber, my thoughts seem to come alive in the silver glow of the emanating moonlight, in the flickering of those enchanting eyes that caste their light down below, traveling across the deep emptiness to be here with me, and witness with me the stillness of this moment; which engulfs me, submerging and unfurling into the darkness. Quiet whisperings outside the window; cascading ripples of life in the motionless room. In this place of nothingness, to be slowly consumed by madness. The somber bleakness take me away again, this life of apathy and agony, forever calling to me, in this place I lay my weary head to rest. Here alone is where I shed those tears, for those memories not yet forgotten; bitter nightmares accumulated and reincarnated between these few cubic centimeters, torturous thoughts flicker through my mind once again. Tomorrow comes, and the day will begin anew for most, yet here I will still lay in that secret realm, until I rise once again in the darkness. The day disappear's into the fading sun that burns so brightly, absconding so fleetingly into lustrous silver pearls woven into a black shimmering silk. And whilst I now know all that has passed before its eternal gaze, beyond our inevitable demise and into that deep empty stretch of time that follows; still i remain inundated with haunting memories, dissipated moments, undulating here, attenuated by these four cornered walls, my sanity crumbling beneath this veil of conceit; forever living in the darkness, submerging into the quiet stillness; slowly consuming me, wholly confusing me, why can't I just simply be? So I lay here yet again, wondering, pondering my fate, what fortune may come of the rising of sun, and falling of the stars from the heavens above. Sweet relief for this anguished heart, please come and bring me eternal respite, from the harrowing bitterness of reality, quietus from crippling loneliness, and release from this mind-numbing apathy. An end to the quietness that doth cosume me.
wandering this lonesome cannopy, he senses that the night sky is enraged, and within it swells the fury of the thunder and rain, that doth pour upon the young tender earth. By fortune he stumbles upon a foreboding cave, begins to spark that mystery of flame and within its twisted walls of stone that eb and flow like the gentle waves of a glistening lake; he see's shadows and reflections of the day, the beasts that prance and play in sweeping green seas, gracefull birds who perch in the tall birch tree's, the creatures of the deep that flicker like distant stars in coral caves beneath the undulating waves, and in this enthralling haze of wonder and excitement, from deep within seeps an unknown incitement. Confronted by all these great mysteries, in this solitary sanctuary, he begins to reflect upon that most bewildering of subjects, so with nothing but the shimmering moonlight, the dancing and wavering of the burning torch light, in the shuddering cold of this treacherous night, on the walls he begins to write, in this small refuge which he has found, to the walls his soul now be bound, stroke by stroke he paints onto the moving walls, these scrapings upon once bare lifeless stone, the seeds of destiny have now been sown, by this fledgling of humanity, within him the spirit of solidarity, a notion of equality, that we were once in unity, but now divided by sketchings of a stone, those who claim to know have claimed the throne, but as history has shown, they will be lost in the deep abyss of time, forgotten memories in fading pictures, and beneath those incredulous deceptive scriptures, the truth of time and what it is that makes you and me, lays in clear sight for all to see, here in this sacred tavern, alone in this dripping cavern, he found what is to be, he was the same as you or me, to never be known and forgotten in history.
another chapter draws to an end, another year wasted and forgotten, it seems that callow dreams only grow into sorrow, and that many live lives of quiet desperation, in hope of salvation, seeking emancipation from these hands that tie me, in my mind i cannot escape, the call of procreation, but my inhibitons, they restrict me, and conflict in me, my mind lost in these sweltering thoughts, creeping through they hide amongst cracks of the wall, seeping through i see them fall, taking me to that hallowed place, these thoughts I write, I struggle to think and fight the urge to tell those lies, like those who decieve, and live lives of greed, and take more than they need, but it seems that i am unable, unwilling, to take on this task, i hope i can make it pass, I hope this year is not the last, i must succeed, this year will be the one I achieve success, they will witness my prowess, I will most assuredly progress, but i digress, for i must confess these are but mere fantasies, I don't think i have it in me, to be what they want me to be, but hopefully, one day soon i'll see, the path i need to take to find happiness, but within me lays my very own Narcissus, who desires fame and greatness, but beneath the surface i contemplate and deliberate, what thoughts it is I should permeate, and those which I must subjugate, my thoughts undulate the waters of time, these are what I will leave behind, i had lived once, and had felt, known what it is to be alive, and that is enough for me.