Posts Tagged ‘emotions’

Hello inmates.

I haven’t done one of these in a rather long time. Not since 2014! I’m not sure why, I suppose it simply never really came up. Maybe I haven’t been reminiscing as much recently. Anyway, I quite liked the idea of it before, So I’ve decided to make another with some of my older poems in it. It seemed apt with the new year looming in the horizon. Mayhap a little self-indulgent, but I don’t want my older poems to be forgotten. So, I would encourage any newer inmates to take a gander, You might see something you like!

The Clockwork Dragon – A tale of a frightening mechanical nightmare.
Internal Hydra – A poem, or perhaps an introspection, on humanity’s inner monster.
Red Stamp – An experimental poem about the horrors of fascism.
Night Sky – A poem about my adoration of the night.
Shotgun Romance – A twisted poem about love.
Sorcery – A poem about the magic of our own potential.
Beast of Eyes – A story of an otherworldly being.
Dirge of the Jester – One of my few forays into rhyme.

So there we have it. Just my personal picks from my archives. Every piece of writing I create is important to me, so I’d appreciate it immensely if you would let me know what you think. Here’s hoping that you won’t regret having a read.

On a side note, I hope you’ve been enjoying my more recent works! I’ve been getting back into the routine of writing daily, and I’ve been feeling so much better for it. Thanks to every one of you who takes the time to visit the asylum!

Until next time, have a very crazy day inmates!

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Death is my lord,
I am his reaper,
And his scythe,
My blade is his,
I am the Manhunter,

This long coat hides a herald of death,
He pays in cold coin,
And I pay in cold dead eyes,
Those whose time has come,
Those whom have his icy hand upon their shoulder,

My life was already taken,
Eons ago,
A bloody wedding gown and an empty crib,
Death made a joke that day,
I couldn’t help but chuckle,

I am the Manhunter,
Nothing personal,
Just business,
The cycle of life,
Even monsters must eat,

Do you feel his gelid breath?

Welcome to my home stranger,
Wipe your coats and hang up your shoes,
Make yourself at home please,
It is my fortress,
My sanctum,
My workshop,

Within its walls lies wonder,
And a hint of madness,
Here manifests my literary alchemy,
My lyrical experimentation,
It is a realm of perpetual loneliness,
But also true clarity,

I write every colour under the sun,
Angels in freefall playing violins,
Ballet with stars,
Dragons saving damsels,
Ghosts in pitched food-fights,
And heroes with villainous grins,

Stories and sonnets,
Poems and poesy,
This playground has all of these,
And so much more,
This is my castle,
This is my fortress,

Safe from the siege of outside rationality,
Safe from the slings and arrows of the world,
Safe from sanity.

There’s trouble ahead,
There’s hellfire on the horizon,
The drumbeat continues,
Humanity marches unabated,
Craters and mushroom clouds ahead,

Out of tune,
Ragged drums and dilapidated regalia,
Painted-on smiles,
Out of step,
Unwashed humanity parading ever onward,

Cracked lips and grazed knees,
The drumbeat continues,
Complaining of weary eyes,
Insanity personified,
Driven on regardless by the beat of life,

The state of this world,
The state of this procession,
Mired in misery and dissention,
Enough for a thousand dirges,
There’s trouble ahead,

The drumbeat continues.

Feeling a touch nonsensical today,
Feeling a dash ridiculous,
My mind is scarlet jelly,
These thoughts are hundreds and thousands,

Once lost which way does a page turn?

Can a cookie become a chef?

Does winter prevail in many competitions?

Can a merchant learn to sale a ship?

Does my coffee need some medicine?

Can a mansion ever be a lady?

Random thoughts dart about,
I know I’m not making any sense,
But did I ever?

Nonsense

The mind is a prison,
Shackles and all,
All your ideas are kept there,
All your machinations are bound there,
Your minds eye is temporarily blindfolded,

Upon request these treasures are released,
Creations given wing,
On to page and stage,
To captivate and terrify,
To enlighten and appall,

But something has designs on these gems,

Writers block,
The plague of the author and artist,
A malady so harrowing,
So abominable,
So soul-crushing,

Now my mind is blocked,
The affliction comes for me,
It’s an unwanted guard to my prison,
Authorizing no creative release,
Me and my psyche are in solitary,

Will we ever be released?

Writersblock

We are criminals,
We are dead men walking,
Smugglers and felons all,

A pall falls over our vessel,
A dark mist,
A palpable guilt,
As if the sea knows our illicit purpose,

A distant lighthouse stands guard,
Its light is our doom,
The tension is tangible,

The white coast is a reminder that we are outcasts,
The cliffs tell us we are doomed,
The chines call with a foil behind their backs,
The surf tries to drag us to the gallows,

Our vessel a prize for the law,
Our cargo a trophy for Customs,
The disquietude is discernible,

Waves lash at the hull like blades,
A far-off sentry spies us,
The sea knows,
The sea grins.

Smuggler

I gaze out of my window,
And up into the sky,
That sapphire display of experiences and worlds unknown,
That projection screen for hopes and fears,
I see other worlds that are out of reach,
Or are they imaginary?

The great azure sky looms over,
Acting as a backdrop for my minds eye,
The sun illuminates it,
Acting as a catalyst for what I see,
The clouds act their little plays,
Trying to obscure the enigmas I see,

I see worlds of splendor,
I see nightmare-scapes,
I see fiends and seraphs,
Horrors unbound,
And otherworldly monsters,
Oh the monsters,

Alien worlds that are wholly unknowable,
Stars shimmering every colour of this world,
And many that are not,
Worlds of untold beauty and potential,
And worlds of misery and black lightning,
I’ve seen these before in my dreams,

Then I become cognizant of something,
I was staring into a mirror all along,
A window into the human soul.

Unknown

I have a problem,
I seem to be lacking in power recently,
I’ve never really been pushed,
I’ve never been overcharged,
I’ve never been struck by lightning,
My consciousness lacks a certain electricity,

No power,
No motivation,
No current,
No ambition,
No voltage,
No impetus,

Do I need an electrician?
A new battery?
A new transistor?
A heart-shaped motor?
An inspirational amplifier?
Does my negative have no positive?

Why do I have no power?
Does my meter need some change?

Nopower

I gaze upon the moon each night,
I sit in the dark,
Staring skyward,
My eyes reach out,
They can’t reach her,
They’re not worthy.

Crescent full or gibbous,
Her dazzling form lights up the dark,
An astral goddess,
An empowering icon,
A source of inspiration,
Playing kiss-chase with the clouds.

So why do I see a second moon beside me each night?
And beside me each day?
A moon of such astronomical beauty,
That it blots out even the lunar goddess,
Earthly yet still heavenly,
A goddess of a different kind.

Then I realize,
You are my second moon,
Superior in every way.

2ndMoon