Tag Archives: poem

The Road Taken

Thinking about the old days again
About how I shaped the world with
only assumptions and a pen.
Now, I resist pulling things into parts.
Instead, I marvel at their creation
surrounded by so many starving hearts.

Of all my habits and my fall backs
I never could recover from the cliche
things, the already tread-ed tracks.
But now, I’ve deigned my own way.
And, as simple as that sounds
It’s come at a cost; some kind of back pay.

“I can’t breathe.” I oft hear the words now
Like the restlessness of ten years ago
has returned like a seasonal plow.
Churning over the darker, richer earth
I walk an old path, unabashedly renewed–
uncaring of all Robert Frost’s berth.

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Of Breeze, Hookah Lounge

New haunts
Relax
Take a breath…
Let the mania abate
Nearly staunched
Wounds, bleeding
Drowning the old scars
The preconceptions
Lost in the fog of new bars
Under the same stars
Newfound faces
Wearing the same masks
That cover the same actors on the stage
Advice, taken, almost sage
Overwhelmed by the same sadness
Amid the savage grace
Relax
Take a breath…
Like the same arms
That cradled you, marred
Gaunt with the promise of re-ghosting
Old haunts
Relax
Take a breath…

Another Revenge-Fueled Haircutting

Whose advice did you follow?

‘Cause it ain’t mine.

Whose bad idea did you swallow–

Or are you really out of your mind?!

You’re not taking me down!

Didn’t break my back for your sake.

I didn’t go outta my way to clean ground

To sweep up your mistakes!

You think you know me?

You can’t even see my shadow,

Enveloping.

What do you know, Jezebel Above?

What do you know about love?

What do you know, Delilah Above?

What do you think you know about love?

But I Know What I Like

Real talk, Lover.
I know you’re goin’ away.
I could make promises worth keeping,
but shit would just put you to shame.

You’re worth more
than all of my empty swears.
You seem to think–
At least you see–
All my soul is yours to bear.

You
know
me.

You
know
me.

To only you
I am a painting.
But to me, I’m a too-thick book
who don’t deserve a second look.
A movie with no second screening.

Oh no.

Set aside all my lies.
Set aside all my wayward glances.
Your words hit me in the guts every time…
like you don’t know they are lances.

But you know me.

DTP 9: Beneath an Endless Duet

“Once more into the fray.”

They spoke in unison, their voices harmonizing as they moved simultaneously. Two blades, one dark and one pale, moved like two parallel shards of utter nothingness and pure starlight respectively, rising, falling, and twisting on twilit air.

The feminine one looked to their masculine counterpart. “Jinx,” the dark one said.

The pale one rolled eyes heavenward. “I was just about to say that,” the masculine one grumbled with a small smile.

The rattle and growl of the gray legion that circled them enveloped the feminine one’s answering quip, drowning word and thought as the opposition spoke with one voice as well. The issued command vibrated the fabric of reality and sent body-aching tremors through the pair: “JOIN. JOIN. JOIN.”

“No,” Pale said simply.

“Better to be at war than to feel nothing,” Dark added.

“ALONE. ALONE. ALONE.” The rally cry of the legion. The observation of their host.

Dark looked to their partner and the masculine one nodded gravely.

“We are not alone,” they said.

“DIE. DIE. DIE,” the gray ones said and, bearing tooth and claw, they swarmed together like the aperture of a camera, swallowing the two in a photograph to last the ages. Dark and Pale were back-to-back, sweat trickling down their faces, their hair whipped by currents controlled by their most hated adversary: the loss of individuality.

Teeth gnashed. Battle cries clashed. Shards flashed.

Love does not really exist, the gray ones taught.

Love does not really exist to you lot, the mirror preached.

To the end, Love, in either respect, would not be respected by either party in the end.

Forged in war, the partners would not last past the settling of the smoke. Their love would not survive past the final drop of blood. Dark and Pale sought ultimate refuge away from the routine and lack of complexity found in the Masse of the Gray, but they had already found that sanctuary in each other. Perhaps they simply refused to acknowledge it, secretly knowing that the admittance of their folly would destroy the fragile dream they had imagined together.

The truth was, peace would never be had between them unless they were at war, and there would be no more war after the legion was destroyed. Their last adversaries would fall to their defiance of the twilit natural order, and the two of them would turn on each other, knowing no other way to exist; no other way to live; and no other way to love…

That is the true pity of it all.

Downtown Platinum (c)2017 Karin Mayville 
Find out more at Downtown Platinum on Facebook.

DTP 8: Locke Weeps for Circles

Freedom:
Financial independence.
Warranted doubt, worry
Giving way to boredom–
Boredom giving way to curiosity–
Curiosity morphing into cruel, risky fascination…
Such is how it goes
When power corrupts discreetly
And renders one
Completely, irrevocably
Free.

Downtown Platinum (c)2017 Karin Mayville 
Find out more at Downtown Platinum on Facebook.

DTP 6: Promises

Angels are ugly, kind creatures as
Demons are beautiful, cunning things.
Eyes glinting, windows tinted
Your bronze skin, golden hair–
You weren’t so damned misleading

My hand closed around your quarry’s
And we shot out the bar like, well
The bullet that splashed indescribable
Textures onto my sanctuary’s walls–
I was never under your spell

Collapsing into some kind of vacuum
We debated about your existence.
“What in the actual fuck?”
Was the decided ultimate question–
We settled on action: only resistance.

Killer J, is it pride or is it boredom?
You’ve all the privilege in the world
But you waste your precious time
Chasing bartenders and dead celebrities–
Huddled, crouched, hearts nearly cored.

Who will really have the last word?
If you think you can just corner me, re-think.
You won’t be sleeping sweetly.
You may think you have some claim–
But I don’t bite and tear and rip apart gently.

Downtown Platinum (c)2017 Karin Mayville 
Find out more at Downtown Platinum on Facebook.