Curses Too Kritic/ Invocations From The Soul- Part Three

These curses I evoke are the

words spoken by angels,

toking knowledge and wisdom,

an invitation to eat from the

tree of life...become a God; the

difference between a schizo and

I, a schizo does not believe I

am God-


I cannot pray, the tongues I

speak are not

language is unholy; time after

time temptation became a friend

too trust, my life balances on
different scales now; what I

knew and the unknown-


The end of my journey began

the day I was born...invocations

of death at my front door, I

welcome her in, stays for awhile

then leaves in an uproar; she
says I am conspiring to kill
her from my existence...she does

not know death/her is more alive

than me-

My curse is poetic, too narrate my

life with pain and roller-coaster

emotions; an empty feeling without

being empty...became a father only

too miss my daughter daily, if I sleep
tonight I will shed tears of sadness

before I slumber-


Broken, yet stronger after each fall

too stand tall again, take a few steps

and fall again...judges keep your jury
silent, throw away your verdict;

judge my soul, critic my efforts when

I am standing up...everyone falls!


Outside my window the wind blows

and whistles, tree leaves rattle,

whispering; no vacancy in the

gallows, fire ammunition

are these words I convey, "While
you creep, your soulmate sleeps

with the poet unknown, daydreaming
unknown dreams, consciously lost in



Soulkritic® 2014©

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Curses and Invocations....

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Trying to Re-Create the Dodo

Trying to re-create the past piece by piece

Putting on the same music

Talking about the same moments

Drinking the same brand of beer

Same people

Sitting in the same places

Pulling out personalities from back then

But when attempting this impossible trick

Nothing ever feels quite the same

And it’s not

The air is not the air

The memories are memories and not the moments

The music is not fresh but dusty and stale

The people are formed

The places set 

Personalities past and shaped

There is always an uneasiness when the trick inevitably fails

A failure on the part of all involved

Unable to conjure preferred past

It happens eveytime

All around the world

In living rooms

In Bars

In Attics

In Basements

At Kitchen Tables

In Backyards

In Fields

Try to hang on

It is slippery

It is a ghost

It is gone

Only to exist in memory

And when memory starts to fade

It will vanish

Like the dodo




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What Happened To That Little Girl? -TITLE HELP NEEDED-


I was a happy little girl.


I wore poofy dresses,

and spun in them happily.


I ran around and played 

with both boys and girls.


I was a bit of a tomboy,

didn't mind getting dirty.



I ate apples instead of candy.


I climbed on anything

that I possibly could!

Alone with somethings that

no one though that I could!



I was such a happy little girl!


I smiled all the time,

I laughed at so many things,

I did just about anything!


I talked to strangers,

made friends in the blink of an eye!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Work in progress!


Help with title is needed and will be greatly appreciated! 


Fallen from the highest peak

Crying angel without wings

Broken dreams inside a heart

Lost to hope and lost to pride


Unforgettable deception 

Piercing rage and endless shame

Evermore afraid to stand

For behind there lies the dark.


How can I believe in will? 

How must I remember faith? 

When by aiming for success,

I call upon me its painful shadow?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I haven't given up... And I eventually got back up... Still, it's hard to shrug off the pain and the disillusion once you've failed... That's why I write this poem... Not to encourage failure but to understand it, to learn how to see beyond the pain and see what it can teach...

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the tree on the hill.

Summer! Oh! please come quick

Quick as a fox to snatch and shit.

That shit it gave will make us gay

And i don't mean that sensitive way.


The violet hill is anti-war.

Songs about peace to everyone.

Songs that makes us all believe

That things will better; so don't quit.


Though spring means life, winter then death.

But Summer is what my heart longeth.

Then fall is my emotionless state

I do care less than an apple cheese cake.


So I'm just a tree on a crazy hill.

Waiting for the sun and the frizzling rain.

I wait for the winter wounds to heal.

I wait for the changes of the seasons' air.


So I'm just a tree on a crazy hill.

Well I'm just a tree and I can't feel.

No I can't dream and I can't sing.

I'm just a troubled tree, a troubled king.





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It is dark.

The old ones groan pierces the silence as his back is bent.

I knew he would, I could have expected this.

He surprised me although he didn’t.

A door opens.

The faint light of a single candle shines upon a grinning face.

I deny it, knowing that I know he knows.

It hurt, although it didn’t.

outside this dream

I'm reeling,  feet failing, 

Falling,  fumbling. 

To watch that dream 

Outside,  out of reach

Taken from me.  

No warning. 

To have had a dream, 

Lived it,  felt it, 

Realizing how right, 

the fit so perfect. 

Outside of this dream

Where I only  get to dream.  

The Wait

The air was thick

Your lungs were full

The smoke never went away

You just continued to pull


One line down

This powder was gold

You said you could go forever

You said this never gets old


The needle went in

And your soul poured out

You said you had problems

Just to many to count


As the bottle stood empty

You screamed and freaked

Those bottles are your life

Pills is all you will ever need


They werent just drugs

They were your everything

You didn't care about us

Its like pleasure was something we couldnt bring


We tried to help you

But you wouldn't see

You said it was fun

While you sat there to bleed


We hadn't heard from you

It was quite a few days

We went to your house

And you were still dazed


You took to much

Your heart couldn't take it

Your head was down

Your hands were shaking


How can you not know

what this has done to you?

Your down on your knees

Its your time to go

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Drugs aren't the way to go, you can be happy without being high. You can have fun more than one way that doesn't involve drugs. Don't waste your life..

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Failure in a glass

sad but true, shame on you... all has come unglued..

i'm swimming through this ocean, tide pulling me over & under, just to try & make it back, without blunder..

I'd rather dig a thousand pins into my skin, or burn a billion holes onto my back, then hurt you unintentionally..

can't you see, I'd much rather strike myself...

I don't want anyone to be an object of my pain..

so please refrain from stepping any further.. 

you don't know what goes on in my brain...

these chemicals are mine to control.

so stand back while I get a-hold..


ashes to ashes... everything collapses.. piece by piece, coming apart.

nothing ever felt right, from the very fucking start..

sometimes I cannot convey the thoughts in which my mind is stirring up,

or the feelings that cause my heart to silently bleed..

if only I had those wings, I would of flown away long ago..

& saved you from the inevitable hurt..


not being here.

sometimes I wonder if that's the only real dream in which i've truly conceived through out this life time..

nothing special, but it sure seems realistic..

she screamed at me, "it's all just a fantasy!" .. inside I went ballistic..

twisting & turning, face to the floor, squirming..

staring down at the shriveled remains of sanity... 


your eyes expell such melancholy.. do you see the same in me..?

am I just a tree for you to chop down..?

to carve your name in..?

to climb..? to rest up against..?

no longer will I walk along such a thin frail line..

no longer will I stand out of the shadows to be seen...

for these shadows are all that will vaguely cover me..

offering faint protection.. 


sometimes you can't avoid the rejections, the experiences, or the lessons..

when you drink that water, check the bottom to make sure it's clean..

though it may appear transparent & clear..

you could end up swallowing a ton of nails...

choking on how much you've failed..

shame on me, too.

Author's Notes/Comments: