bloodied verse

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Blue-blood poet
cold at heart
large, 
your ego, 
this swell night,
 
She’s a tourist
in wild dreams
of word orgies
blood verse 
streams,
 
Both, 
crossed lovers
madness feigned,
vintage statues
They remained

Wordplay 
artists,
starry 
nights,
warm-blood poet—

S t a y 
      t h e 
n i g h t

new seas she sails

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New seas she sails
with wet, wet eyes
cold, purple lips
a wild, wild heart

A fighting mind
one fateful tune
one fresh start
a blinding light

New poems read
with tired eyes
a stunning feat
those rhyming lines

Warm, purple ink
a healing heart
she will, one day,
recover might

A writing sword
on stormy fields
she will in dreams
all battles fight

And conquer will
those seas she sails
those dry, dry lines
a fighting mind

She starts to sail
she longs to write -
new poems, wild,
they will take flight

New seas she sails
a bright new night
with drier eyes
h e r
s  o  l  o
w  r  i  t  e  s 

veiled days

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We used to dream
of brighter futures,
features concealed
by demure 
v e i l s

Souls almost blurred
by shy, dry tears
fears hinted in those
faces—dark and 
p a l e 

Oppressive times,
so stark and fearful,
Venetian masks
silencing those worry
t a l e s

We used to dream
of brighter futures,
features concealed
by demure 
v e i l s

What face we’d find
under such attires—
question harassing our
snotty brains, those
d a y s 

We used to dream
of brighter futures,
features concealed
by demure 
v e i l s

Oppressive times,
so stark and fearful,
there was only so much
hope to fight those
w a i l s

Momentum for change
Lost opportunity? —
We’d never wish  
for those sad days to
s t a y

We used to dream
of brighter futures,
features concealed
by demure 
v e i l s

What face we’d find
under such attires—
colourful masks
silencing our worried
faces—dark and 
p a l e

frenzied flow

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She trespasses
the confines
of this purple
forest, 
the one
I 
just
i
m
a
g
i
n
e
d

My legs 
dangling
in the air—
u n n e r v e d 
by the lack 
of motion
of recent 
days

She twists 
and turns
and sings 
and rhymes—
Mother of verse
Sister of bored
d e s p a i r—
with frenzied 
flow

Her feet
tapping
to the sound
of a tune
only I 
can 
h
e
a
r

opening night

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She takes 
centre stage
and then
she starts 
s i n g i n g

All facing 
an audience
of flickering 
l i g h t s

         .   She’s perfectly 
               f i n e   . 

The muse
that inspired
such musical 
m i g h t

*

Her voice
all conveys
the sounds
of wild 
r e a s o n

His plot,
just betrays—
some smoke
blurring
t r e a s o n

         .   She’s perfectly 
               f i n e   .

The muse
that inspired
such musical 
m i g h t

 *

An opera dream
a grandiose illusion
a silent stream
of utter 
d e l u s i o n

All facing 
the audience—
some flickering 
s i g h t

        .   She’s perfectly 
              f i n e   .

A standing 
ovation on
opening
 n i g h t

gravity

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rarity
gravity           
       willowy 
s i g t h s

sensing
the
fears
that pierce
through your
body
mind
soul
and
thy
h 
e 
a 
r 
t 

* 
rarity
gravity           
       magical
n i g t h s

drying 
these tears
all sensing
the fears
that pierce 
through the
body
mind
soul
and
my
h 
e 
a 
r 
t 

* 
rarity
gravity           
       subdued
star
l i g h t

tearful,
silent,
day-dreaming
we stumble on
           willowy 
s i g h t s

*
drunk with
wild wonders
day-dreaming
we tumble,
we write, 
dream, still,
humble,

f  l  o  a  t  ,
     w  e  i  g  h  t  l  e  s  s  ,
t    o      n     i    g    h     t

ingenuity

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I gladly 
lent 
you 
my 
v o i c e

The one 
you borrowed 
while you
were still
learning to
s i n g

We played 
air guitar
with long,
restless
f i n g e r s

No music, not even 
random notes,
coming out of
those make-belief
s t r i n g s

With ingenuity,
we birthed
a lyric-less
and odd-tuned
a n t h e m

a l l   v i b e , 
             r  a  r  e   
 s  o  u  n  d , 

For this, 
our imaginary 
ensemble
of dreamy-eyed
s     o     u    l    s

free falling

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night of the monsters
land of the ghosts
fighting the dragons—
all the night hosts

flight or 
free-falling
at dusk—
such dark ride

wild and
sky diving—
a spiralling 
mind

night of the monsters
land of the ghosts
fight of the dragons—
by rugged coasts

flight or 
free-falling—
the sound of 
false tunes

those wicked 
noises,
all the sky
croons

play to deaf ears
through all glossy trails—
flight or free-falling,
smokey travails

night of the monsters
land of the ghosts
fighting the dragons
in nightmares they boast

flight or 
free-falling
at night—
such dark ride

all but 
divining—
a spiralling
mind

inside she’s smiling

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cold-blooded smile
and somber cues
you think 
you laugh —
but 
inside she’s
s   m   i   l   i   n   g

her fingers now
holding her
serpent brush —
as she dyes 
new days
with ocher
embracing
l   a   y   e   r   s

black stilettos found 
in her long-forgotten 
chest of time
nearly crying out —
barefoot days
a   r   e     o   v   e   r

while her canvas, 
fair
sets those

h

e

e

l

s 

alight,
cold-blooded
s m i l e —
stomping feet 
through
p    l    i    g    h    t 

her fingers, now,
firmly hold
the brush—
as she paints
new days
with ocher
embracing
l   a   y   e   r   s

high-heeled,
great 
shine,
warm-blooded,
s   l   i   g   h   t  ,

you think 
she cries —
but, 
inside,
s h e ’ s
s    m    i    l    i    n    g

ghosts & mirrors

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i tried too hard
to catch a glimpse
of your soul
on your 
fragile
m i r r o r

the one 
I forgot to clean
when I got
home
really late at
n i g h t

falling asleep
while fighting 
ghosts I’d only
heard about, 
not even quite,
i m a g i ne d

for they
never
really existed,
all but a fake reflection
of your silent,
deadly,
maddened,
b i t e