How Lovely

A crooked pen writes

[the-words-of]

Autumn

I like to take a walk through the forest after rainfall.

It’s marvellous,

to watch the trees cry.

[the-words-of]

Fathered Fetched

You only drink to fill the empty

fill fill fill your cup

you only drink to fill the empty

drink drink it up

you only drink to fill the empty

you've had enough

You only burn to smoke them out

smoke smoke smoke it up

you only burn to smoke them out

burn burn enough

you only burn to smoke them out

you've had a lot

You only hunt to feed the kids

feed feed feed enough

You only hunt to feed the kids

hunt hunt a lot

you only hunt to feed the kids

you've shot your son

You only train to hit the mark

hit hit hit a lot

you only train to hit the mark

train train your son

you only train to hit the mark

you killed for fun

You only yell to hide your cries

hide hide hide your son

you only yell to hide your cries

yell yell for fun

You only yell to hide your cries

You pull the trigger

Click, click, click for fun

pull the trigger

Bang

[the-words-of]

Ramble

I like to talk. Except I don't talk, I ramble. And it doesn't make sense, at least, not in a way that matters But I like to talk.

And I like to dance. Except, I don't dance, I whore myself out. I throw out my hips, twirl, and whip my hair around I'd like to say I dance, but I just prance my slutty ass

I'd like to say I sing But it's more like poems that don't make any sense and words with too many notes but no real melody and I don't sing, I ramble.

On and on I ramble. And I want to quit the ands. And I want to quit the buts. And I want to quit the maybes but god I love to talk and sing and dance. And I'm given a chance. To do so. I get two years of time, to prove that I'm worth that time but All I do is ramble.

And I'd like to be great, but really I'm just reading off a scrips And I'd like to be real and honest, maybe if I tried a little harder And I'd like to improve, and be helpful and kind- Except I'm none of those things. I usually get left behind.

After one or two years. When the script meets an end. I'll add a few more weeks to ramble convincingly. A few more weeks to pretend that, I can talk and sing and dance. When really, I just ramble. And scramble for understanding. But fail to find the words. Maybe talk when I should listen.

Except I don't do any of that. I just ramble. Continuously. Always. Until you get fed up, after a year or two, plus some weeks. I'm sorry, but maybe I'll talk and sing and dance. Except I never do. I only ramble. I ramble. I ramble.

[the-words-of]

Loud

I'm screaming for silence but it falls on deaf ears there's only the quiet and all of my fears

The silence is full it's large and it's plenty You suffocate slowly curling up in the empty

Your breathing becomes shallow the rope exactly right, tight No more sounds follow you've discarded the fight

I'm begging for it to stop It's too much, it's too crowded but there's only the hush In which you're enshrouded

[the-words-of]

Domesticated

The street-seller, scamming a tourist. The child, one dime short on their favourite treat. The cashier, eyes-rolling, candy given anyway. The town of old and new.

The parent with two children, one on each hand. An elderly person, sitting on a bench. A pond or a tree, animals or not. The village that I forgot the existence of.

The fishers or farmers, stirring up a fuss. The drunk or the drugged up, letting loose, again. The playgrounds and streets, the schools and old homes. The city of when, burning so soon.

Shattered windows, broken doors. Blood on the pennies, blood of the poor. Howling winds, Whistling ash. The people of now and the people of then.

[the-words-of]

Fragile

Life

Love

Humanity in itself.

Why would pride need to keep Life from Love?

We are too fragile to care about strength,

still, loving is to show you can survive pain, death.

People are fragile,

which is why they fear love and life.

But strength lies in acceptance of death.

Accept the risk, humanity is too fragile to ignore.

[the-words-of]

odd One in

She abides by your management,

and follows your written rules to the mark.

But social cues have no meaning,

to a child of the maverick.

A quirked eyebrow tells her to duck her head,

she has been told she appears as the undead.

Every word she reads is misread,

thst’s what you get, when to the bohemian you were bred.

At best her emotions are meagre,

but bright is her mind.

Still any human manner,

she misunderstands.

Lies she has been fed,

by the many who led.

Her parents, who worked by law, dead,

because they pled, to remain unwed.

She will meet their end eventually,

caught up in the hypocrisy.

That will be the end of humanity,

lost between accentually.

[the-words-of]

Metonym

You wished for a star,

I gave you the sun.

You wished for a thought,

I gave you my mind.

You wished for the sea,

I gave you an ocean.

You wished for a pen,

I gave you me.

Use me, abuse me

for your amusement,

I will write accordingly.

Confuse me, accuse me

for your abstruseness,

I will write accordingly.

Bring me to the slaughterhouse

and put me up for sale.

Whatever use you have, I can fulfill.

A new pen can write,

for pages upon pages.

An old pen can be chewed upon,

for exams upon exams.

A broken pen can fill in blanks

and bleed onto my tear filled notes.

Yet when I ask you for my use

you tell me I am not what you asked for.

You wished for a puppet,

I handed you my strings.

You wished for some muscle,

I brought you my heart.

You wished for a better life,

I bore you a child.

You wished for death;

I hope you find my letter.

[the-words-of]

Whistling Aid

Rustling past leaves, leaving a trail of dust,

Late in the evening to early dusk.

Crime in the night, scene of the day,

To what, of which, comes this dismay.

As far as the wind is concerned,

Its whispers know no name.

As far as the wind is concerned,

Speech of fluent flickers in vain.

Dead of the sky,

Life of the ground,

Balancing through

this merry go round.

Light of the sea,

Shadows of flame,

Tragedy knows no shame.

[the-words-of]

Battle Scars

You spoke to me in tongues, your words an unclear drawl.

I pulled air into my lungs, and answered through a call:

“Why are you here? Where are you from?” My voice sounded high and loud.

You only snorted, a sound as low as your throat allowed.

I took a second to assess, the blood and grime upon your way of dress,

As your eyes of blue shone alight, and a long cylinder appeared in sight.

You spoke again, the word ‘coffee’ all that I heard.

Then the sun rose and the strangest thing occurred.

“Bill,” you said, giving me your shorted name.

Then you handed me a muck, on this historical day.

Now every year we sit and do the same,

Taking a sip, on the ninth day of may.

[the-words-of]

Son of a Thousand Fathers

Child of a million men,

Disastrous luck.

His mother, taken, again and again,

Now she has one single love.

She raises her sword,

Her child does the same.

She gives them her word,

But he must refrain.

He reminds them of their pain.

Hangs his head and weeps in shame.

She covers her face, with a helmet of fame,

He covers his head, to hide his eyes of blue,

His long hair shall fall, feigning beauty,

She simply nods, no voice to approve thee.

Scarred skin and flesh, hidden beneath cloth,

Hands of callus, wrists of permanent bruise,

No words left to use.

There sings the child of a thousand fathers,

Shushed by another mom.

His voice that of an angel’s,

The tune of god’s youngest son.

Reminders of what has been,

Reminders of what has gone,

Still his voice makes her smile,

Now that he’s still young.

She stands strong, before a thousand fathers,

Strong, before a million men.

Yet this child makes her weak in the knees,

For him, her heart still beats.

Child, of a thousand men.

Voice, high and pure.

Son, from members of a gang.

Yet, so unlike them.

So she raises her sword, for him and for them,

She brings down her axe, for him and for them,

She raises her shield, for him and for them,

Until the reapers condemn.

Child of his mother, leader of their home.

Fighting for each other, living for the oath.

He has known hate and he has known love.

Now left by a mother of which he had one.

Child of a thousand men.

Father to a daughter.

Child of a leader, child of a queen.

The smiling son of tragedy.

Son of a thousand fathers,

Parent to a single child.

Cast in her fathers shadows,

She goes wild.

Daughter of a single father,

Who couldn’t set her free.

Refuses to speak to her deadbeat children,

So the circle repeats.

Son of a million men,

Child to a single father,

Deadbeat children find

A daughter with nothing.

[the-words-of]

The Paradox Hypocrisy

I can not change your mind,

For it can not be helped.

T’is clear that I am to what you’ve repined,

I simply annoy, with the cards I was dealt.

I do not mean to be egocentric,

I do not mean to be rude,

But you can not change what is anthropocentric,

T’is simply how I am viewed.

My fears and doubts are often reality,

Yet you try to claim they’re not, through gritted morality.

I am not blind to this fogged up reality.

The mentality of vitality knows no neutrality,

In actuality, me, the abnormality, should fear the lethality of mortal brutality.

Your opinion is your own, as you are owed,

Whether that opinion stems from my faults or my genetically inflicted shortcomings.

And so is my time mine to spend.

I do not wish to spend that time of mine to keep a superior or equal in silence.

There is no shame in imperfections, there is no shame in feeling, but I will not subject myself to the rules of violence.

You are allowed to think of me as a flaw, t’is for the truth to anthologize.

It would not hurt me as much as it will you, and for that I shall apologize.

A final comment for an awkward departure,

My words still stretch out as I spot the archer. Patience run thin, words taunt on the string, that has attached to the stick that pokes out of thine lower section.

I will shut up, before its dejection.

[the-words-of]

Wallpaper

Blood will fall like the petals off my wall, watch them crawl all over my ceiling. Don’t you know it’s meaning? Bawl as thoughts go reeling.

Blood will be spilled and death’s stomach filled. Watch them enthralled with meaning, all over my ceiling, aren’t they revealing?

[the-words-of]

Flower

Believe in yourself.

Three words you have taught me and three words I hope to help you remember.

Have fun.

Two words you embody and radiate, bringing joy to tense games and smiles to stone faces.

Play.

One word to explain what you are doing, yet a lie when considered. They dare ask you to fight for their enjoyment rather than your own. Remember that you are playing this game, it is something you are allowed to enjoy.

[the-words-of]

Child Of Fate And Future

Repress those who have repressed you

less we allow this cycle to end.

[the-words-of]

Aristocracy

Lie in the grave of the young man you have doomed.

Lie your way out of his husbands open wound.

Line their children up to learn the rules of hatred’s game.

Recline in your position, sickening fiend of fame.

Known for your peace and forgiven for your murder.

Humanity forgets when told to by it’s most important herder.

Forgets to help and grown, love and be loved.

Injustice is your curtain to a life of living ungloved.

You choose to shove and choose to fight for you are your only enemy in the dark of this sleepless night.

Forgive me, emperor, my empathy is out of line.

[the-words-of]

Deceptive Beauty

Beauty is not perceived by those who gleam, by those who hurt or those that fiend. For it is life and bright and numb and pain, and love and laughter and tears and shame.

You share your words yet avoid an opinion of truth, hypocrisy the main course you eat with nausea as you watch your enemies drown in the pools of your blood.

You will be damned if you help them and I will be damned if that does not make me upset.

Choke on your superiority, you ignorant, pretentious twat.