The melancholy soaks your heart in an ocean of ice. you Are drowning but feel no pain, just a Numbness that spreads to your fingers and toes and A cold whose depths have no limit. your mind is the Two-faced mayor of your body, knowing that everything is All right but Plunging and holding you under at the same time, Torturing you only to show that it can. It knows every beautiful thing in the world but also every Unflinching horror, and Pries your eyes open to parade in front of you A sea of images of utter despair and desperation. It is like the world's worst propaganda, the most corrupt Media company ever to have existed. it Brings you from the pinnacle of your existence, the Sun-dappled happiest moments of your life, to lying Fetal and trembling In the dark Alone. It is an 80-foot monster wave that is the purest Adrenaline rush you have ever sought, and in a split second, it Holds you under until you wish you were dead.
You still have air in your lungs, though, and a heart that stubbornly Refuses to stop pumping and bringing life to your body. You have legs that remember, and enjoy, the gift of walking, of running, Skipping, skating. You have fingers that know how to hit keys on a keyboard, wrists That can bend to let you write and draw anything that you want. Your mind isn't everything and you can beat it, No matter what it tells you.
You just want someone to care, Because you can't just care about yourself, You stand up straight, and cover the bleeding wound, You'll tell anybody anything, And nobody asks anymore. You bit your own tail off, So you can't wag anymore. You clawed out your own soul, And denied this reality. You masturbated in bed, Refusing to feel pleasure. Alone, anymore. It hurts now it hurts, So numb, so numb. People are foolish beings, Forever trying to connect to another dot in the universe, Forever trying to merge, To "understand" When there is no such thing. You eat your cereal, And the milk is cold, But you don't care what your brain says, Only the demons you mold. The ones that haunt you, The ones that chase you, Oh the ones that keep you in this chair, Writing about it, Instead of doing something about it, The troubles of freedom, The lies they feed you, You can't do anything, Anything at all in this world. And if you can one day you'll realise, It was all a lie, All a dream, a fruitless hope, You planted in a barren ground, A deserted womb, No longer thirsty for your, Decrepit seeds, And a lonely boy. Sitting there in the night. And you look at him, If only because no one else will, And you think to yourself, Is it the night that surrounds the boy, Or the boy surrounding the night itself.
Let it flow flow flow, Like the young waters of old, But nothing comes of it, No plants here will grow, You can see it now, You can see it when you are dying, The shadows reflecting off the sunlight, Are always there, always darker, Always waiting, Taking you away, Forevermore.
night.
Author: John Ashton Upston
0
Date: 07/04/2020
№ 1210176
Night eyes
I wanna hold Hold...
Ohhh Oh these cranberry lips Left by the mark of yours...
Whistled Whistled In my ears And now i can't get that beautiful tone out of my Cold ears
Oh Ohhh Felt the hairs on my arms Stand When your Finger tips Oh ohh Touched Touch...
Now i felt Ohhh Oh The snowflakes Grow Ohhh On my veins
Watch my eyes Turn Turn Oooooo When She walks down That Ohhh Leafy grove Ooo Oo
Can't? Can't you... Feel my rosemary eyes Curling your toes
Ohhh Ohh Cause your windy legs Makes me forget Ohh Ohh About those... Those Ohhh Oh You Oh Wanna dance? Oh With my arms around your waist And with my our... Ohhh Forheads touching
Now Nowww Now Let me see your Your Night eyes Ohh Oh Lovely you are... You are... Darling
Detritus of the drunken night A cig burn in a cushion cover A swollen face from your brother I shouldn't have had that last pint Your wittering is irritating This hangover is dehydrating
Blurred thoughts of how we fought You brought up some other girl Indignation made my head whirl T. V. blaring sports, you out of sorts Outside for a cigarette Both of us shouting, your eyes wet
The stumbling, bumbling long walk home Sniping and bickering Neon lights flickering Now your face is set like stone I've got to face your angry brother And your unforgiving mother
Detritus of the drunken night My stomach's churning Your eyes are burning Like red hot coals, they sting on sight I'll apologize for what drink's done Then go down the pub for another one
On the night train, the red eye plane, Flying home to NYCeeeeeeeeeeeee, From the city of Los Angeleeeeeeez
Feeling flush, dropped some cash, Got me a seat in extra large first class
Seat 2C, plenty of room for my toes, To wiggle to dance, Lay down some poetry tracks, Pretending I'm a mofo jive, Bad ass from the Make-believe west coast
A short guy, with fedora down low, An older man, Looking about nine years older Than somebody I might know, Hiding his eyes @ 9pm Neath some excellent Raybans, Slip slides into 2D, Gives me a smile, And says Hi, I'm Paul
I look once at his face and say, Listen Rhymin' Simon, I'd know you any place, No worries, your secret, With me is safe, Cause dudes in row 2, Gottta stick together, be cool, We're riding first class, Over the land of the free
What ya do for a living he asks, A little of this and a little of that, All of which, ain't no damn good at! So I spend my cold, hard time Laying down cold hard verse, Can't stop, cause it's my daddy's dying curse
He said that's cool, I like to do that too. Guitars on planes Drive passengers insane, They take up too much Overhead compartment space, I just scribble me some rhymes and Let the music come When I got two feet On the ground in the city We both come from.
Paul: You got any stuff writ On that yellow sheet, Or just pretty blue lines, A big pad of nothing?
Dude: Man you may got diamonds On the soles of your shoes, But pay me some 'spect, You talking to the man who penned Sad Eyed Teenagers of the Lowland On Hello Poetry, gad damn!
Paul smiled and said You can call me Al, And if you feel like blowing some lines together, We got five hours till we can see The house that Ruth built.
Dude: Hit me with your best shot, I'll show you what I got
Paul: And she said honey take me dancing But they ended up by sleeping In a doorway By the bodegas and the lights on Upper Broadway Wearing diamonds on the soles of their shoes
Dude: Just cause the union of the monkeys In the Bronx Zoo done gone on strike, Don't mean the lion ain't Still king of the hill Inside this New York city jail
Paul: And the sign said, "The words of the prophets are written On the subway walls And tenement halls" And whispered In the sounds of silence
Dude: A home-grown poet. I am, Soul enslaved to words. The alphabet - My oxygen molecules, I am both, Addict and dealer A damned poet Junkie
Paul: You don't need to be coy, Roy Just listen to me Hop on the bus, Gus You don't need to discuss much Just drop off the key, Lee And get yourself free
Dude: Contact with the atmosphere Makes self pity die, My blue blood turn red, The TNT tightness in my chest exploded I got no place to store these words, The cops think I'm some kind of Terrorist
On and on thru the night, Riffing, rapping, rambling, and spitting, Ditties and darts, couplets and barbs, Single words and elegies, Free verse and a lot of fking curse words, It was a moment, a time That deserved To be preserved, And so this poem got writ
*You may think this story apocryphal Which is another way of saying untrue, But I got his boarding pass and it is signed, To this crazy poetry dude, long may you rasp, And it is signed by Mr. P. Simon, a big fan, And it has never since that day, Left my grasp
