Awake/DreamA Poem by R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe) Two decent poems, and some of the leftover scraps put together into a little something at the end. Awake
(In the skies there are) (Syncopated Himalayans maelstrom halos with Elysium's phoenix Prometheus) (And down below) Metal meadows, ghettos of jagged alleyways Like shattered beer bottles And pavement murals of archaic heroes Resins residue of stilettos arpeggios Fabricated amalgamated shadowlands Spanning botanical hourglasses In hallucinogenic heaven’s that clementine divines Cupid crucifix lucid as Jupiter pupils The penance of serenities endless crescendo Poltergeist maestro of isolation Rough drafts of human beings You don’t get to kill your brothers, And then offer them a hand Drowning dunes in time’s lilac sand Dialects of violet irises photosynthesizing Metallic alabaster to cover up the wounds Of the story you’ve written on my back My story alone, the static noise You are static, you are my home In the italics of malice crowning balconies An empty contemporary of thrones Complementary emissaries to roam Clovers of rosaries, oceans of metempsychosis Floating motionless crows And hangmen telephone poles Makeshift oasis wraiths conversation of wastelands gander Dragging polychromatic sabotage pornography Spawning kaleidoscopic brothels of fallen apostles Gospels of death throes in psychosis born cornucopia Stormy orchestras of tundra sunset by thunderclouds Unravelling down as man is chained and bound Enshrouded malachite pallasites Valhalla’s dice Gambling intangible strangleholds of bangles And my mad world bursts forth like a memory from the null From the flesh encrusted clusters of the rusty nothingness Covering the skull That no one ever wanted, as the mantra, lulls In the harbour, tarnished armour martyrs in a hole Or some ditch between the crossroads Phosphorescent neverlands of gothic Auschwitz Rorschach catastrophe Screaming bulimic frequencies Freedom of stagnant double-helixes in the mosh pits While the world continued on Like the vineyard Of a forbidden fruit I never want to taste Lest this insanity lay to waste In the tide I am A wake  Dream
I too, hide from avarice of madness Hatching from the homeless tomes of the locust Sprawling spirals on the diabolical holocaust of the wind Cinders of oblivions splinter to the schisms of metamorphosizing rhythm Coursing abortions underneath the basin of my skin Crawling halogens of vengeance Devastating devils of emulation penetrating beneath My hollow, hollow, polymerization Frolicking in the bathroom stall called hallelujah I too, awaken from a deep sleep in the depths of hell Bronze yells from heaven’s bells Melody enveloping delicate flowers devoured by Valkyries The sores of untreated wounds in my hollow heart Stitching obituary pages in the stagnation The library of goddamned imaginings of cadaverous Vaticans Inside the trapdoor of my ribcage A hummingbird of silence flutters Nestled (embers) between slithering bones Slandering anarchy disembarking from the parchment The pages gale sable maestroms Drifting shapeshifting abyss of mistletoe Mephisto glistening Ghosts spoken to by the hands of God speak in sign language Rejecting all I am Absolving the sins committed by an unfit heaven I too, wish the world was better I too, am a leatherbound alcove of papercuts Smoldering holy pandemonium Shining parasites of daylight bleeding Elysium Through the shutter of a lonely fulcrum Kneeling at the table on its last legs Holding up the lights in the night sky like a streetlamp Praying doesn’t bring action Action doesn’t bring God I too, am feeble I too, am more lucid than dream I too, wish to awaken, from the slumber of this life The bumblebees and green leaves on a guillotine breeze Do not care for the noise of my radio skull I too, lose my head in the neck of the woods To the tools of the shed I am no sharper than the common spade Digging into the skin is the graffiti of a faraway city Is the pull of the clockwork Molotov sky facing me With its
skyscraper hands grasping astronauts (Blasphemous Rorschach's cast catalysts on a stratosphere of madness) I too, am a cog in the machine I too Am someone’s Broken dream
Nightmare's Radio Wave The whine between my ears They are the words I must erase Smile in the mirror Wearing someone else's face Monsters in the closet Skeletons with iron lungs Stomach all these butterflies Early riser in the dung From the hole Dig myself to heaven Or the south pole Another lost soul in the road rage of a seance The void of the rageless The voices are praying The whispers are lithium The screams are bipedal We live in a world born from evil Even a smile is lethal Asylums of scalpels Run with scissors in the downpour Cut yourself on a mouthful Stay true to the doubtful Take a cruise with the shellfish Lie on the seafloor Open the trapdoor Look into rapture Find your happy ever after Black dahlia and a pastor Swimming through the laughter Like another form of baptism Live in a box just a captive Death is another kind of practice The whine between my ears Is just the bee-sting of the axeman The moon a buried body in the night Waning and waxing Just the shadow we're cast from Not awake, or a dream anymore. Simply the nightmare of hope keeps me up at night When I'm so close to despair Wake to the afternoon glare, dazed In latex air Like a morningstars' flare A flower in my hair Sleeping on a lemongrass chair Reaping to everlast the day Keep my demons at bay Drowning on radiowaves © 2020 R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)Author's Note
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R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)Burlington, Halton, CanadaAboutMost of my poems can be differing lengths depending on the time you want to spend reading them. You can avoid reading anything brackets, or read it all. If you want an in-between, you can read only th.. more..Writing |
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