AtticWindow
silly rhymes and other discarded things
woman: a poem, a prayer
My breasts are the ocean,
My cunt is the rising swell,
My lips are the break in the waves,
My kiss, an irreversible spell.
My eyes are the moonlight,
My breath is the wrecking gale,
My heart is the distant shore,
My love, a cautionary tale.
i am she, the perilous isle,
The tide, the Earth, and the moon.
I am she, the destroyer of man,
Woman and mother too.
tumor
let it seethe
and let it breathe
Let it call
for what it needs
Let it love
and let it yearn
let its soul
sear and burn
Let it in
and let it out
Let it do
with or without
Let it live
and let it stay
let its body
rot away
let us mourn
and let us weep
for what we sow
is what we reap
suicide
a yellow breasted bird on an old fruit tree
fluttered its wings as it left
what a sight to be seen for a man such as thee
on the tip of his very last breath
alas nothing grew in the garden again,
not a flower; not even a weed
nothing but a stone, and a wreck of a home
and the roots of an old fruit tree
but a day it would come, when as yellow as the sun,
fell a feather from a little bird's breast
for above it did flutter; with no quiver or stutter
where the man and the tree lay at rest
pé na cova
"Why wait?" I said. "Why hesitate? "What good is one day from another?"
You just laughed, and slapped my back;
"That's a good one," you said. "That's a real good one, my brother."
And so we drank to all our worries,
And we drank to all the blues.
And the sun it rose in a sobering light,
As we drank to all of the truths.
The truths we had forgotten,
And those we'd rather forget.
To the ones which proclaimed us a villains,
And to those that we owed a great debt.
And so we drank to the end of times,
To love and its inevitable end.
And we stumbled off home in the wee hours of dawn,
Just a prick and his miserable friend.
entropy
This house will out-live me
No matter how much I know
No matter how much I have done
This simple house of bricks will make a home for anyone
History itself is cast in stone
But not you or I, or anyone we know
All is forgotten except that which is known
Like the pyramids, the monuments, and my goddamned fucking home
the alien
I once spent a weekend on Earth,
With two men (of Science and God)
One man convinced me I did not exist,
And the other that I was a fraud.
In both men I saw the same reason,
In both men I saw the same light.
So, I left for another dimension,
Assuming that both men were right.
​
excerpt from the novel 'Ineffable'
mary, the butcher of salisbury
Mary was a drunk,
and down on her luck,
But never was Mary a bore.
With a mouth like a gun,
and boy could it run,
She had every man on the floor.
​
Though her words they did slur,
It would never deter,
Her love for the drink and a tale.
Be it story or rhyme,
A sonnet or line,
She'd go at it hammer and nail.
​
And it's fair to be said,
That in truth she'd be dead,
Were it not for her gift of the gab.
For her life it was shite,
but the booze made it right,
and her words, they could pick up the tab.
​
You see, Mary, she lived with a cunt of a man,
An asshole that no-one could stand.
A bitter old prick,
As crass as was thick,
And who spoke with the back of his hand.
And Mary, she wore all the bruises and marks,
On her face, her arms and her neck.
But the look in her eyes,
When she drank or reprised,
If you'd seen it, you'd never forget.
I can't quite describe it,
except only to say,
that no man was ever the same.
The moment they came to take her away,
With no-one but Mary to blame.
You see, her husband was found,
all bludgeoned and bound,
Floating in a bag in the sea.
And with a pint in her hand,
And too drunk to stand,
Old Mary was ready to plea.
"No contest, your honour,
for every drink,
and every word i have said.
But as for that prick,
I've no shame or guilt,
In how he ended up dead."
And so, she drank her last pint,
With the hangman in sight,
And the rest of us down by the stairs.
And she told us a fable,
The best she was able,
Considering her state of affairs.
And though history would remember,
Her violence and temper,
For us it was hard to forget.
The way she could drink,
and thoughts she did think,
the most remarkable woman I've met.
time machine iii
A young man stares into his reflection,
and sees an old man looking back.
“Where did the time go?” he wonders,
and, “How did we ever lose track?”
“Is this the same person,
that amounts to wondrous things?
How long did we spend dreaming?
Is this reflection really as it seems?
Who are you old man?
I’ve seen you in times before.
Is this, the face that greets me,
the mask I always wore?”
The old man drops his stare,
And moves towards the door.
The boy he thought he was,
He can recognize no more.
leave
Take me from where I am,
and guide me closer to you.
Give me the scars that tear out your heart,
so I can be closer to you.
Kiss me again and feed me your pain,
then haunt me when I am alone.
Nestled in mind, I hold you inside,
and make your sorrow my own.
As death closes in, I burn deep within,
to taste your breath and caress your face.
Before I should die, please take me aside,
for one last eternal embrace.
saudade
There's a cat on the windowsill,
with a rat in its stomach,
that had eaten the cheese,
that my lover left behind,
the day she went away.
girl
There goes that girl over there,
who's not really here as she is over there.
Unbound and unknowing,
unwilling to care,
mute to calling
and blind to your stare.
See her you will
and by that you will swear,
that the girl over here
is the girl over there.
a sombre note
What sacrifice to conceive a dream?
When all you leave behind,
Is all you’ll ever be.
"Only when you allow yourself the right to die do you give yourself permission to live."