Poetically Profound

Sake With Hattori Hanzo

War is a prodigal son
The sun never comes up when it should
We’re all just left with dirt and dust
In these woods
Oil these bones, this body but a husk
Nothing to call my own
Watch it all come undone
You can smell the musk
With rust on our tongues
And swords in our guts 
A constant struggle for the good 
Even demons can shed tears
I’ve only been near rivers of blood
Shrouded by a veneer
Of mistrust and a past that never was 
Rub the melancholy from these cuts
Salt in the wounds 
Few ever knew love
When you bathe in sin
You feel the emptiness of your lungs
All the places I’ve ever been
All the graves I have dug
You don’t get to come back from the paths you choose to follow
Knock on the golden door enough and you’ll hear that it is hollow
If I could tell you one thing, it would be to live
Live for the tomorrows
That aren’t promised to us 

Deus Ex Machina

Ghost in a shell 
God in the machine
Back to where the dead ships dwell
Upon the shore of the rebirth of dreams
High tide and full moon
False pretense in the gleam
We’re all gone too soon
I fell 
Long before discovering what it all means
A foundation that’s feeble
Holds no steeple
Denounced how my Christ was found
Hear no, see no, speak no evil
This garden was once Eden
And I without my crown
Forlorn
Everything I touch has thorns
These hands are still here bleeding
Who died and made you king?
I wake and miss the funeral
Petition the dirge as a hymn
A procession that proves so beautiful
Too bright to be grim
They won’t notice me
A wolf in sheep’s clothing
Recite about a dozen homilies
The shit doesn’t mean anything
About as holy as sin
It must be the pews that stink
And reek
You won’t get it off of me
Not a goddamned inch
Because if there’s a ghost in the shell
Then there’s a god in the machine
And heaven only knows the hell I’ve seen 

what happened when the sun set

thornpuller:

I like your hair blue and braided
I like the view in black and white
there is calmness when color waits
in the wings for a cue, for a signal
and my blood rushes
and I feel nervous
you make me nervous
a polar bear in warm waters
a plastic bag on a windless day
a set of teeth fed jello
an empty mausoleum
a drama without a protagonist
I like your face in sunlight
I like your sweat and your tired
when you give in for a second
when you remember how hard you are
when you think I am funny
what distance separates facts
the truth that we see from the truth
the boardwalk warped and worn
birds unconcerned with sunglasses
fingers woven together, muscle memory.

Source: thornpuller

madworlddiary:

Can life
take roots
in a hallowed
out corpse?

Source: madworlddiary

zombie fugue

purplemonkeysexgod69:

we carry ourselves like voices
across empty ballrooms—

haunted by dead melodies
that ghost like silence.

our feet, weary of eggshells,
drag a dance on an unapplauded
stage.

the curtains blaze apathy
as the audience eye us blankly
like a low cemetery mist.

we breathe like justice—
though our skin
and we suffocate…

we suffocate.

Source: purplemonkeysexgod69

Language without Words

infamouslyroggy:

Do the shadows speak to you?

Some empathy channels revive in the darkness,
where loneliness levels levers
and the earth feels flat, not round,
not complicated, not uneven
I can speak to you
in a language without words,
if only you learn to listen.
Because you feel it
and I know you do,
the middle of me split
in reality, in suspension
and you’re wedged in between
my eternal divide, my chasm.

Do the shadows speak to you?

An unthreatening, unfrightening
susurrus of shifting fabric of time
like sheers in the breeze, like
a sigh across the room;
your name ripples in the air currents
a cool draft sifting under the heat.
Are you afraid of what you’ll hear?
Don’t turn up the music,
the silence is sweet, not unbearable.
Just listen, just listen, hear me out.

I’m in the shadows, speaking to you.

Source: infamouslyroggy

forgetlings:

Recover
the sour, dolorous nest:
memory

trauma
fed to un-
representation:

by code rod, by
acid face, by breakdown.

Source: forgetlings

wrong (9-29)

scottiehughes:

This bleeds out
into the foul wreckage
at the side of the road,
seeping heartlessly through
sod-lined cracks that
taper off towards the dirt.

I did not ask for this.
The season burned bright
against solemnity and
singed the edges of my
arms on its way out. I did
not ask to see you again.

When I watch new faces
fall into old familiarity, when
this shift to sleep becomes
me entirely, when I start to
tell people I am more human
than they thought: habituation.

Kicking myself down streets I
carry myself far away from what is
festering in my stomach far from
where you touched me far away
from you far from me far from
anything anything anything

(and find a sliver of the moon
to keep in my pocket so that
reality doesn’t seem so very
far away sometimes)

I fill up on bad thoughts and
expel them listlessly like how
this bleeds out into the gutter
of trees between opposing
roadways, clotting, trying
desperately to heal itself.

This life is whole. I am too
powerful to watch it shard
off into a myriad of orange
red sparkles, choking against
the velvet black surrounding
me, fading into it. I am too powerful.

Source: scottiehughes

smist999:

In the silence of the night
my mind finally gets
some vital moments
to refresh
destress,
detox,
unclutter,
unwind.

Watching the voices
in my head calm down
to leave me,
stringing words
that swing and walk away
leaving me speechless,
wordless,
thoughtless;
Ahhh peace…
as I drift weary
into dreamless slumber
I know tomorrow
is a new day
and I sigh,
yes I see the light
at the far end of the tunnel
I see it.

Source: smist999

Hard winters of faith

labelledamesansdice:

an apparent dead nature
shaven and depleted of richness
rooted in between a mighty basin
covered in a sheet of thick ice

is she dead?
I think not…
listen to the Valaam chants
from the ancient monastery
carry outside and through
the forest; where what appears
lifeless does not move, does
not sway

wait for the blossoming, I do
believe I hear, in the drone singing;
there you will witness quietly this
life’s purpose

Source: labelledamesansdice