Theatre...

4:00p WE.12.19.01

the words are all torn,
dripping blood and oozing puss
they cannot heal

nothing in this world
or anything you've ever thought
is near enough real

dillusionary tacts
flowing through the room
loft upon my arm

truth cannot be made
it lives within your mind
choosing when to harm

unclasp the end
withdrawn inside the perfect bubble
release to own

when common sense is rare
and new horizons bring about a
vengence to the bone

always fight onwards
for the battle does not cease if you
never let them know

there are pixies in the morning
stardust at midnight, if you sit back
and enjoy the show...

Reviews

[shiloh jennings]

I wrote this poem... well .. initially I was attempting to do some lyrical writing for a friend in a death-metal band .. but it just isn't my style... the blood and the ooze ended up being pixies in the morning! :) I don't think it is quite as macabre as maybe it reads.... but then, I'm not reading it in a vacuum!

[Gandré]

This is about the deep crisis within oneself, the cynical tone brought sadness into my heart. Reading text about self-punishment, blood makes me feel like poissoned; this is perhaps I am not even watching TV nor having fun going to movies about all sort of violence. Perhaps we seek healing in events we didn't live enough. I think, I would not buy a book of poetry like this, but there are buyers for everything; this is just my opinion, and who am I? I like your expression, this is good writing. Technically, the way you constructed, interesting, I thought it gave your poem the right tune. It had it own style.