The Slow Burn

You're a man, on your high tower, golden sunlight on your shoulder.
This is your kingdom, and it's as far as the eye can meet.
Where you can be, undeniably the king of all you see.
Women jump at your proposal, to join you in your light,
but the one woman who might have said no
has the piercing eyes of Scorpio,
so you took her down
showed her how
death by execution
can turn her golden hair
into a watery nightmare.
The ocean has no limits,
it covers up your acts
but you revealed your dirty story
avoiding all the facts.
For your kingdom is as far as your eye can meet
and when the public loves you
you're not their enemy.
The white hot light of desperately-seeking-to-know
bathes your narcissism in an evil glow.
So when you're king as everyone can see
You get what you want, what you think you really need.
Since the real person
you killed with that girl,
you let the ocean wash away
in the effervescent watery twirl.
Everything else after that night
shaped, changed, cursed your kingdom
You watched the glow and the gold turn
and still you show the world
how you slowly burn, in real time.
You're the murderous darling,
the golden fool, no golden fleece,
And you are terribly aware of it.

Disintended Solution pt.II

These eyeballs they shine.
Glistening dew in a nighttime field,
but in this sparkled scenery
bulbs burst, and crack, and gleam.
Stars dying in a fit of capturing this moment.
This is what life is,
what my life has become.
Whatever road I left,
has drown in the landscape of time,
in the waters of desperate emotion to carry me high.
High into better fields so wide and promising.
I become overwhelmed, but thankful,
but arrogant, but humble,
and nothing I ever was before.
I am what they see,
what they need,
what they hate,
yet, really, nothing they need.
Becoming a mirror for what they see in themselves.
The masses cannot understand what I've become.
they only assume,
it's what I've been.
When the sensitivity of my relative nature
makes me become impressionable with points of view,
I am what they see.
So I am to be
God does not exist on this plane, but I do my best to create him (which is not much)
with the powers of influence over the people who see me as him.

I love being famous.

Meant to be?

I can speak my own demise
and decide
whether or not to get behind
this tantamount desire
to go about with,
as one would say,
the precocious ironies of my independent nature.

This girl, she breathes
smoking desire
over her profound lips
a withstanding of sorts,
in modeling
any one of her
condemning flaws.

As if she stands
for anything greater,
her life wouldn't be bitter,
yet the noise and sound confounds her.
And sound, as we all know
is the bane of our keen eardrums.

Her delights are intentional,
and meant to be harmless.
But what delights can she have,
when decisions become pointless?

No real future awaits her,
only the future her dreams promise.
And in the reality of a day
night can take over
and carry it all away.

Goodbye to Scorpio

So flighty are the feelings which my mind refines,
they depict a girl with no meaning, no rhyme
no static energy, no prudent wherewithal
no sense in the word, on which my mind can cull.
But feelings aren't meant to grasp and measure,
not meant to garner and list all my pleasure.
They mean to seethe and writhe and barrage
and keep the shadows of my head a mirage.
This one, who at last knows their shadowy night
can see clearly now into blank insight.
So what does it mean to dive deep down inside?
Search out the feelings you intentionally hide?
It means fusing into your own subconscious
where depictions become completely weightless.
Define your entirety on ten-thousand stages
Unravel the mystery strewn on your pages.
Without so much as a rational explanation
on the synthesized details of our biological station.

Shades of Reflection

For every sun in my dreams alight
the sun is a gold bounty of might
moon dost swoon at such a sight,
but hides her love in dark night.
Will love triumph in deep shadow?
The shade penumbra colors in
resonates in the darkest din.
Love's twilight may be modest
to the sun's effervescent light,
but it echoes on to great unknowns,
to whisper to stars so bright,
the moon's undying twirl around
this stars magnificent white.

I am only guilty...

of carving constellations on my back.
of measuring words I lack.
of laying down no law.
of having every single flaw.
of living life as I see fit,
and never once getting on with it.
of loving once too many,
and sharing what I had, if any.
of calling out names in the dark night,
and retaining faith in my mind's sight.
of cutting corners on everything.
of memorizing nothing.
of touching a man's cheek.
of men not being weak.
of shortsightedness.
of lightheadedness.

Not One Man

Fuck you!
FUCK YOU!
This is most!
I can't boast!
You fucking loser,
shameless abuser!
How can you not lie?
Feeling shameless guilt?
I didn't do it!
You know you did it!
Thank you,
for not giving once,
or ever again.
For taking as you please
and taking with ease.
Can not one man
prove to me
that I need
needlessly.

Symbol

We all have a face
a face lighted by the moonlight
as by glowing fire.
This face is what we become,
the world marks as it wishes.
We become what marks it.
Love, lies, lifted light
stray on the braces
of our far gone faces.
We can cut, suture, or bind it.
Nothing can change it.
Only we become it
in a fit of transformation.
the higher planes will not relent,
in keeping this secret
bound from those of us in dissent.
We change these planes
to become more
by marking out the faces entirely.
Becoming lighter in entirety.
Don your masks
mask it out.
Hate your fate
as so to change it.
Do it. Now.

The Couch in The Black Room

This is absolute,
withering, estrangement.
My body decaying
on its chassis.
I've left myself,
become abandoned,
and lulled myself into
listless abduction.
Your drunk inside voice is dead.
No synapses firing
in my sullen head.
You'll duly deal us
the card of shame.
You, for sliding inside me.
Me, the gray area of blame.
I could say rape,
But it would give you too much credit,
wouldn't it?
We're both adults,
audited for our extended curiosities,
and austere self-loathing.
You fear what
you claim to know.
Isn't that what fear is?
Refusing to see
your evident woe?
I am lopsided on
what is right,
dictated by people
whom are hardened with fright.
You saw to it that the girl
who felt disadvantaged by
Love's warm hands,
would,
with the help of your disgusting fingers,
be taken advantage of,
all over again.
This time with marks burned on her conscience,
burned in her skull,
burning down her sense
of sexual purpose.
I must have been wet to touch,
for your appetite was
whet too much,
as to let jealousy for me
and distaste of disillusionment
override your drunken
conscience to let me
black out alone,
without you inside me.
Was I sexy?
Did my dead fish move
do something for you?
Did my chest heave too?
Did my thighs clasp your side?
Did you delight in tearing me open wide?
The only time you
could ever be with my body,
was when my vulnerabilities
were bare,
and the girl who would say no,
wasn't even there.

Open All Night

Something to viddy,
yes, hearth of my legs is alight,
and open all night.
The pitista who had the heart
when she was young,
gave it too suddenly
and now it's gone.
When I am to become older,
and saltier,
and the jeezny of youth
has been sweat out of my body,
Oh brothers!
There stands my tower!
Can you, like, see it?
Oh Beauteous vessel of a Soomka.
My goloss with no soul.
It had been the strack
of razrez to the heart,
done in by the chellovecks
viddied would be all
fathers to my fatherlessness, of sorts.
I had been left to
the device someone else,
all shame of course
my, like, body being loveted an all
in such a vicious game of pol.
Too much shame of course,
would have done me in.
It's just time to be
sammy to the rasoodock.
And close up the business
of heart-related matters.

For reference, here is a Nadsat dictionary.

I will wait for February.

I do digress
Under duress
That the shift of my dress
Lifted under stress.
But the lucid loving
Kickstarted my coming
With beauty so stunning
It kept me from running.
So how do I explain,
The meaning of the game
When both parties are to blame
And their efforts all in vain?
It's fear all across
For the feeling of loss
Blinded by the gauze
Of the retaliatory riposte.
The subtleties of long ago
And memories the mind does stow
Will be a fear I let grow
Into a pain i'll never know.

The ideal woman

Who is she?
The girl with the full lips
Daunting hips,
With whom takes your imagination on an endless lusty journey.
She taunts me, licks her lips in
satisfaction at her great prowess,
laughing at my futile attempts to
procure your affections.
Oh she angers me.
For your choice is least resistent to the soft gloves she uses to
manipulate your wanton will.
She's a bitch you know?
Do you care? No.
When you see me
you watch the fly on the wall,
a disgusting atrocity!
Even though you know
Deep down, inside,
I'm all you'll ever need.
It's a fear you'll never hide.
She's a figment of an ideal you will tire of.
She is not blood, she is not bone,
she will not care if you don't come home.
But if one day you choose to love only me,
In my heart you'll find her, where she really wants to be.

Disintended Solution pt. I

I will wait
until the sun comes out
and burns the darkness of fate.
In this my dreams will become one
and I will see the flashing lights
of the heads who know who I am.
They know me, or so I percieve.
my long, drawn out, lonley, tireless road,
has now dissipated
and eyes can believe in me.
They hunt down my ambition
criticize my intention,
and leave no room for illusion of what I am to need.
And the home where I spent so many years being alone
has now become the home I am no longer to know.
Loneliness has its flaws
but togetherness has a whole new world of disillusionment.
Which is to become better than the other?
So we have yet to see...

An Annotation on Destitution

Effortless ease is the name of the game.
Isn't it?
All the time in the world is not enough
for me to accomplish what I was set
here to do.
Oh forgive me!
For not knowing which decision to pick
or which road to wonder.
I've been singed so many times
from the ghostly fires that flicker
in my dead set heart.
I'm so young, and I cannot know
any better.
The lessons to be learned,
the bridges to be burned.
The selfless characteristics of my destiny.
Never sure when my next meal is to be.
So I depend on you, even though
you depend on yourself.
And dependency will draw us apart.

For want of solar flares.

I stand upright
my face and neck turned up tight.
Overhead,
blooming clouds billow in undulating apprehension
as I slowly lift off the ground.
I am helium, I am bouyant.
The more I ascend, the faster
I am to the end of the beaming trophosphere
and emptiness beyond.
There is no wind resistance,
no tempting friction.
No pressure effects me.
The clouds spin below me
waving goodbye gently.
I wish I could see,
but my neck pulls eagerly
to the endless blanket of dark above me.
Blue...then black suddenly
the afternoon sun winks warily
as the horizontal horizon turns vertically,
and my mind is no longer
bent on understanding gravity,
pulsating nebulas, and collisions of stars
as they pass into my memory.
Beloved sun whipping solar winds at me.
Your summer light vanished
to turn on the atmosphere electromagnetically.
So here you blaze in front
of my body, as a will to state
you could evaporate when you deem worthy.
But I am overcome with your strings of fire
as they envelop me.

antiquated friend

only recently have i seen what the stars have told me you're so lovely!
my burning building of a soul is only burning for your rythmic toll

yet it will not chime out even with times eroding tide.
for when i know our fire is alive
you'll hear my laugh on earth's opposing side.

over cranes, crests, swallowed waves... i know the road our hearts pave.

and this is no amendment to love's unbroken law

only a simple chronicle carved onto its wall.
-Sigma (written on a PSP go August 28, 2010)

krispy kreme

Stuffed,
overdosed,
laying on the ground,
eyes rolling back,
my body covered in sweet glaze of disdain,
and I've lost the focus of my gaze.
I've drowned myself in my own contempt of others,
and I've been blissful for it.
But the misery and droning is so longstanding
It makes me almost jaded to speak it.
Forget it,
forget my wistful whimpering,
the lost throes of drunken discord
and wasted afternoons.
Fear is a powerful drug,
and it's looped me in it's drudgery.
I've willed it to be, simply by my apathy.
I've felt like a lost soul, but never before have
I visualized myself slipping down this slippery slope.
-Sigma (November 21, 2009)

Love Poem

Super slowly
will you approach me.
Eyes glowing in a hazy gaze. Sweet smells of cologne,
will my waifish ways.
And so on will we tremble, when your eyes meet mine.
We will wish the world to end, with my sweet lips in thine.

It is so determined, by the misty gods above,
That our eyes meet in the beginning, and our lives end in love.
-Sigma (November 21, 2009)

The Dock and the Full Moon

Let this moment lapse
like so many others before it,
and let it not be wasted,
but multiplied with great love.
Let this moment hit the
waves of my soul,
causing it to stride and
slip over the cautious
capabilities of my character.
Let it never forget the
being it touched,
With much oblivious escape.
Let this moment patter
over my darkened skull,
bend my fibrous brain,
and allow it to break my chains.
With great abandon and
senseless awareness.
This person is not affected
by the dings and mechanical
music of masquerading idealism.
But by moments that smash
through my optimal defenses.

Nothing much better to have

Taking time to rise above
our natural instincts,
is harder to do than to say.
I'd have to take the time
to keep my doubts at bay.
I'm not sure I'm ready to do that.
Tendencies toward perspiration
are not a signal for you commence.
It's never that easy.
Because while you have my body,
There's nothing for you
from the rest of me.
If that's truly what you seek out.
there's things I don't ever need to share
nothing I can say to make you care.
So I leave you at my gates
with nothing your heart has to bear.

Kiss and Tell

Something so sweetly
implanted in the earth of my heart.
So warm and friendly
imposed synthetically
the promise of absolution
and annihilation.
Tag my earthen heart
with another poisoned promise.
Oh please, lie to me
and tell me this fits perfectly.
Taste my tender wilderness
and let me go all the same.
Or at least imply that I wasn't
meant for what you had to offer me.
Your fears are wildly
unpronounced and open.
I looked down on you the entire time
and
to be completely honest,
didn't buy what you thought of me.
Perhaps I'm jaded.
Perhaps I don't speak the truth.
Is that what you assume to be?
You'll never know
and I never kiss and tell.

All in unison

Oh for fear,
children of communication
yet no interpersonal relations,
are we staggering slowly towards a fate
somewhat similar to timely death.
Our fathers in rock and blood,
fought to curb this disaster,
compromising our freedom.
The melding of subconscious minds,
has a heavy price,
which doubles our debt,
with no love to pay.

Chorus:
We unite for one common goal,
but this goal lost its meaning
when we put our fingers on the button,
when we plucked our guitars,
when we opened our mouth to the mike,
All in unison.

So especially unique,
so utterly talented.
So special you are.
So disinterested am I.
We are not part of better world,
or a higher plane.
I don't give a fuck about your
moralistic disciplines,
or your ideal intentions.
Your actions and decisions
are the causation of disequilibrium.

Chorus

Our destinies are heading to oblivion.
We affect nothing but effect everything.
Nothing now for individuals to do
but rally to a stupefying cause.
So bang your drums,
set out your ideas,
spin them in a web of gold,
to capture unsuspecting
children of the most tender influence.

Spatial heatwaves

Into a blank cold, I'll follow my heart's magic moments.
The snow is dropping, plopping onto my barren ground.
Son of a bitch, for him to not leave me this way.
Shoving me but reminding me I have to see him.
For all my consciousness sake, I feel cheated.
I step through tracks of the ages, songs remind me
of what I'd like to see, as far as the inevitability.

Forty-five past midnight.

So much time spent weeping
How can there be tears left?
~' There is not...
You sent me a message
on amplitudes of the wind,
winding down the extended
corridors of my heart,
narcissisticly postulating
your determined arrival date.
Expecting your royal welcome.
I have none...
I have simply forgotten.
I have forced myself to forget,
Since you have consistently forgotten.
So here I stand, with a dagger in my hand
ready to commit the ultimate crime of shame,
allowing myself to be ready for you,
forgetting what is true,
that I can never see you.
But let me remind myself
of what I'm here to do.
Remember what it means to love,
and silently live through.