PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I was in the squat, they always seemed to me like buildings from third-world-countries; but you have to do with what you have. There was one beautiful room with a black sofa (I always wanted a sofa in my room) and no television, a drying rack, some music-boxes, clothespins, etc. But the sad thing was that the room belonged to someone else. Ramses told me I could stay in the room (but that is something else than having it yourself), so I stayed. I enjoyed the room till the moment came the owner came home, I locked the door so I had to open it of course and he came inside telling me it was alright I used his room, what a relief!

At the front of the house there was a monster, I always feared the day would come that the minions of Cthulhu would be released (and still I do pray for the very day) and here (in this dimension) it has come to pass, I fear they will consume me alive. I know the name of the monster in front of my house but I fear to recall it by its name. The most scary thing was that I opened the door slightly and for a moment I feared the monster would come through the door into the house to eat us all, but the door closed fastly, we were safe again...

For some time I pondered at the lake, it was night. I was outside and kept walking up and down next to the black waters, I wondered where the Deep Ones were and if they would come to get me too, I wished to see them, I truly did, but nothing happened. But at least I could contemplate upon the lake. I was thinking about the monster, what was it doing? Was it sleeping? Was it watching me? The gray huge monster, the thing I feared most.

I had another room; it was high in a cocoon of white plastic, it was a bubble. It was not much, maybe it was not even real but it was there, there high in the air where the monsters couldn't reach me, where the gray thing from beyond couldn't touch me, I loved this place. I started to put on my inline-skates; the plan was to outskate the monsters speed, to be able to be faster than him; like I did before that day when I outran the cops on the street near the Fish-market. When I looked outside of the bubble I saw the dragons, the monsters; and I knew that they were mere creations of the mind, but still I feared them even more, while in truth I am one with them; even one with the monster who haunts me.

The monster was able to get inside this time, fastly it ran through the hall, slaying all in its path, it was time and I was finished. When I returned to the beautiful room, he was dead, the owner was dead. His body was lying bloodred on the black sofa. When I explored more I noticed that everybody was dead, but Ramses I couldn't find; of course he mystically disappeared (like always). I heard something. Fear took control of me. Large footsteps in the hallway, shuffling sounds. I had to move, I just had to move. I crawled to the door and looked around the corner. Nothing. Fastly I closed the door behind me. I couldn't stay here. What reason I had to stay here? Suddenly the monster jumped from around the corner on me, knocked me with my head down on the floor and devoured me alive...

City of marble and beryl

The curving river Nithra,

Where the poet Iranon

Had a father that once ruled as King!

Palaces with golden domes,

Gardens with flowing fountains;

In the midst of reflecting pools.

There stands a citadel,

View of the entire city.

And never so beautiful beholded,

As the view of the serene Sea.

Groves and fertile fields,

A brook called the Kra

Crosses the valley from the hills

In a series of waterfalls.

Forested with yath-trees,

Dreamed by the very poet

And they said it was only a dream...

Constructed of beryl and white,

This city glimmers in the night.

Gold-veined marble, golden-domed;

Famous for the lovely murals.

I was at home,

Relaxed and alone.

I lay sleeping,

The darkness was reaping.

Then I heard the sound;

Crushed windows all around.

Everything was destroyed,

Of glass everything devoid.

Then I heard Warhead at my door,

Personification of Balthazor.

The glass broke into shivers,

Splinters were in my flesh delivered.

In spite of my fear,

At Warhead I did appear.

And tried to calm him down,

And he stopped throwing things around.

Everything seemed to be well,

Warhead had changes of mood, I can tell.

And Lays-chips was lying there,

I wouldn't touch it, I declared;

'cause it belonged to Warhead.

Hours later, Warhead came down;

In his anger still drowned.

He wanted his stuff,

But I knew he would bluff.

Always talking about guns,

But the true deed he shuns.

Though I was confused,

His stuff was unused.

Is what Ramses did tell,

And so ended this hell...

Call me crazy, I’ll be as insane as you let me,

I’m a hotwired leap to the edge, just not moving yet

and you can’t hold me back with any chain

Most of us just push the limits

Most of us just break the rules

Most of us feel just as right as wrong

It’s why we trip on our own feet,

why I walk on ceilings to make you mine

and look for a home in your eyes

We take speed limits as strides on the small end

We’re talking crazy but I don’t mind insanity

I just hope you find your keys before we unlock the world

Most of us just break the rules,

now I sit here with a fistful of dreams,

I hope you find me before I have to set them free.

Sometimes I’m drowning in the straight lines behind me.

I’ve walked them and I wouldn’t change it

but if I could pull them like rubber bands,

crooked here and there

I would.

We sit on the edge of our seat

for her story,

the struggles

the uncertainty

the life of a dream chaser is somehow

more glory than mine.

I am a quiet dreamer

just because I don’t have to

sing my art in the strongest voice

doesn’t mean the dream chasers

with the uncertain, shaking steps of a tightrope walker

should be more of an idol.

These colors stream down my hands

but I don’t have to

splash them like a mural

on every corner,

I’d much rather know I can love them alone whenever I want

than give them to you

or hang them like a trophy from the sky.

These words run in my veins

just as much as all the dreamers

but you don’t have to see them

The science I wield is as much my magic

as the shattered hearts following those splintered train tracks,

and just because

mine are intact and not beautifully broken

doesn’t mean they’re less to look at.

Sometimes I’m drowning in the straight lines behind me,

they don’t tell a tale

that will bring you to tears

but I can still float along them with my eyes closed.

I can be

practical

I can build skyscrapers

out of sparks of tradition

while they run with all the glory

but I always dream a shock splash of sunrise

just like them.