Tempting the Dark Psychedelic Read online

  Part of being a writer is taking the risk -

  even now my mind reels in anticipation.

  Poets,

  don’t write to provoke shock,

  write to harness the divine.

  Slam Vows

  ...There’s a touch of heaven in the music…

  in your voice…

  and I want it LOUDER,

  CLOSER,

  because I crave the disruption of the slow, steady drift.

  And the poetry?

  is an example.

  And the words…?

  Are the guns designed to blast timeless through the years…

  The years I lived brilliant without -

  (the girl) -

  is a deliberate madness

  and as I fight the morning hours away I drive with the windows down, because

  WHEN THE WIND IS COLD I WANT TO FEEL IT.

  And when the Guns fire through the night I want you to hear them,

  And this unconditional love -

  is an example.

  (such chaos as to pierce the fabric of life)

  The Karmic Spin?

  is an OBSESSION.

  Left unfulfilled for lives upon lives till death do us part, again,

  till the stars rip the sky apart, finally…

  ...And I get to go home.

  Shout

  Shout to me,

  as your thirst for heaven becomes more desperate,

  as you doubt your own strength.

  Shout because you love me.

  Angel,

  teach me to inspire,

  then ask me again.

  I need more time.

  Shout to me,

  I may hear you;

  challenging the cause of your faith.

  Don’t tease me, Angel.

  Your demand dares me to hope -

  ignoring heartbreak’s long shadow…

  Shout to me,

  the truth is

  if you felt this way,

  you could never surrender the chance,

  despite the years lost to sorrow.

  I’m disappointed -

  you fear an open door.

  No. Mine is a wild heart;

  you don’t love me like I love you.

  The door is open (burn it down).

  A lifetime of poetry waits for you

  on the other side.

  Gravity 2 (by Aaron & Ryan)

  Not keeping you at a Giant's arm length -

  but more like the length of a continent or

  years so that I might be safe from

  the pull…

  is too much.

  Two bodies set in motion endlessly,

  that's the nature of our chemistry -

  interlocking forever and eternally,

  the science of our gravity.

  I can't be near you even in thought,

  because your gravity reaches out.

  You're what's holding onto me

  the anchor when I'm lost at sea;

  the type of gravity

  difficult to perceive,

  but a fundamental truth to me.

  I am only where you won't look.

  Where your gravity is blind

  is where I exist.

  Your ability to rearrange the stars

  is meaningless as I am always just beyond

  arms length.

  Propelling me past the atmosphere,

  you expose me to a new frontier.

  Turning me into a passenger,

  we pierce beyond the stratosphere.

  (when) Khaos Turns

  Blinded by…

  No.

  Scathed by the white light standing near me -

  I have to wonder -

  are you the physical manifestation of an angel, or

  just a girl I once knew?

  If you are

  the Angel I think you are

  then I’m not sorry.

  …And I’m yours, forever.

  Slam 3 (mania flares)

  More.

  Something more…

  There’s got to be something more

  than this reality, even though

  I’ve kept an eye out for you most of my life;

  there’s got to be

  some kind of promise to the poison prayer

  I shout within

  every time I scratch this

  abstract itch.

  You don’t know my story -

  (I’ve heard the demons win)

  But there’s something more… because

  I know…

  I know I can pull this one off

  without you,

  and I feel my chest heat up as

  this truth settles in and

  flows through my hands…

  And I hate that part the most.

  The fire.

  You were right to stay far away.

  Anti-Gravity (by Sarah & Ryan)

  Floating, floating,

  Lost in abnormality -

  cold, cold,

  confused by forced complacency

  I lie dormant,

  waiting for her to tell me

  who to be.

  There’s something crazy

  about the eyes…

  …About the way she wants,

  resting behind an apathetic gaze,

  pushing away the lightness,

  accepting a certain random guise.

  Sound is always falling,

  a gravity pulling me back to lies.

  My ears so far away;

  only hearing the truth when it cries.

  She doesn’t know.

  Cold, yes;

  her betrayals are minor but many, hastening the spin

  of a Giant body.

  Those brutal tentacles,

  drag me from one galaxy to another.

  I lose all definition,

  besides that on my fingerprints.

  Still, I am invisible…

  to those unfamiliar with the method;

  a stray satellite hidden in the

  very darkness she

  knows nothing about.

  Dark, only rationalized by shadows.

  I crawl into crevasses -

  a glimmer of recognition between an unfamiliar maze of ink

  and an ember star leading home.

  Amidst the Fall

  Here we are, again.

  It’s no coincidence, is it?

  You’ve come a long way.

  Time is merely a game to them, so

  don’t waste another moment wondering

  which god filled you with false inspiration -

  it pushed you forward,

  bringing you to this point.

  You thought yourself interesting enough to ignite.

  An ancient force found you.

  You were there.

  You saw it, yet

  the Holy City was random, you say?

  I know the Random God,

  and he still kept track of your outcome while

  I sidestepped his plans.

  I saw you there, waiting,

  through blurry eyes of triumph,

  amidst the fall,

  beneath the yellow aspen trees.

  Come with me and I’ll show you -

  it’s no coincidence.

  Demon Spotting (by Chase & Ryan)

  It’s been a long night, and

  I’m about to give up

  if the subway doesn’t come soon.

  It wasn’t always this dark;

  the station lights are broken.

  I’m afraid

  this must be where

  I meet my enemy.

  I notice a woman’s figure by the steps;

  suddenly feeling hectic, like

  I’m running late.

  Her bright dress peeks hauntingly through her trench coat;

  I take note without her noticing,

  no longer thinking about the hour.

  She throw
s me an arrogant look and

  I realize she knows something I don’t.

  Her presence radiates the same certainty I once felt

  while staring into shadows -

  just like the shapes cast across her body…

  I tear my gaze away.

  Run. Reject.

  She doesn’t know what has her -

  some violent force, poisoning -

  the blood flowing through her heart;

  her mind.

  the scent of roses…

  You can see it

  as she turns to the side, just there -

  her striking lips part, whispering something critical;

  God is she beautiful.

  Run.

  Leaver 6

  A man writes in the night.

  A slow

  coming - to;

  the lightness of

  a low, blue flame.

  The flowing music

  dilates his mind

  softening the distance between memories.

  He takes a long look at you,

  still in love delirious,

  captivated by

  the odd correctness of your approach;

  a beautiful crash.

  The words,

  always like this,

  leap the distance through

  time irrelevant,

  back to you

  his only one.

  Eyes

  As you stare into her eyes -

  (the ones that matter the most)

  a calm gaze,

  a gentle way…

  They speak to you:

  Nothing is meant to last long here.

  Pick up

  the pace;

  use your darkest thoughts

  to your advantage and

  be damned the effects

  of this.

  Be brave.

  As she looks into your shifting eyes -

  a far distance,

  a broken trajectory…

  They speak to her:

  I miss you.

  Go on.

  I hope to see you

  on the other side.

  Slam 4: Hybrid (Rabbit Hole)

  Hello, my friend.

  My name is Ryan and

  I’m standing right next to you.

  Do you feel

  the afterlife

  pulling at your chest?

  Do you cry out

  for its sweet melody?

  Because I still do…

  Then I remember…

  Nothing really ends, and

  forever is but a short time.

  It happens that way…

  An act of God to see God.

  A blinding affection. A dim light.

  A slow slide.

  Love that tries to fade

  then devours the light all the same.

  The image of a girl.

  Dark hair.

  A smile.

  The notion of a Gun.

  The Long Game.

  A near miss.

  Denial. Vastness.

  Shadows covering her face -

  trying my patience.

  A soft voice whispering,

  “yah, but you can…”

  An epiphany;

  still there’s a trace

  of doubt,

  and how it happens that way…

  I’m still here…

  Standing right next to you.

  Moves

  Fools!

  Your methods are too obvious.

  This game is one of misdirection

  and the point of this story -

  my story -

  is to show how faith is born

  of love destroyed.

  This is still God’s game, and

  He is better at misdirection.

  - - -

  What more is at stake?

  What follows me in the night hours…

  I visualize a swordsman, more skilled than I;

  as he swings at my throat

  I fall, bleeding, to the ground.

  …My obsessed life -

  a blue light,

  revealing…

  death.

  I fear this till my heart remembers heaven,

  and who waits for me there.

  I see her there,

  patient,

  beautiful.

  She doesn’t hurry -

  turning slowly.

  It’s been a lifetime already,

  and this moment is forever.

  Tribute to “Arena” (memories)

  Reflecting lazily,

  I hear the refrain -

  “Love… (in love)… freedom / love…” the words

  echo like they just happened.

  A great song equal to

  a crazy conversation -

  a moment of understanding, then

  flashes:

  “I can’t watch my back all the time, you know?”

  “Then disappear, maybe forever…”

  The starlight in just the right place -

  Kaitlin’s smile.

  Time spent with her was halfway a dream. That much I remember.

  Music struck me permanently - songs I adored

  became a feeling preserved by the melody -

  …and I cannot help but listen still.

  “Love…(in love)… freedom / love…”

  the refrain.

  There is always a great song.

  My Angel Has

  The number seven.

  Two beautiful revolvers - black -

  patterns running down the sides.

  Giant white wings.

  Dark hair;

  brown eyes.

  A message from God.

  My distant heart.

  Answers -

  ones I dare not ask for.

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