Song for the 30th of July
This is a song for the 30th of July when the sun is up and it’s quite warm outside,
a metaphor for an indie rock band that I love,
pepper and spice on the mundane
I write words between commas for a dear friend,
he left for the west for a county where lives one of his mates
and people don’t stare
and deputy chiefs don’t care
when he rests his arms around his neck with a bit of neglect…
It’s a revolution,
his mind gave up unattended convulsions
and now he is gay in various ways
with the corners of his mouth up to the ears
we can all see his teeth holding his heart
while he’s racing on the Rainbow Road in Mario Kart 8 Deluxe…
I did not see it coming but was not a surprise
the pink cotton candy beard has been there all along
it always sang on a tune of it’s own
and the green paint in his hair,
all the small things, strokes and cuddles
and the cosplay in the pub where he’d always be Zelda,
it made us all think he was eccentric…
It’s a song for the 30th of July when the sun is up and we’re lacking direction
he’s left and we need inspiration
someone to recite the poems he used to,
talks about social mechanics and quantic design
we’ll never approach without a mind as his own,
it’s a song for more than a friend
a brother in arms
who’s finally found his very own arms…
Inner thinking
I cannot read I force myself to write
I find a thousand reasons not to care but I’m intrigued
and getting out of bed is quite the chore,
I feel that something’s off;
“Do I put up rhymes to soothe my mind
or are they just sweet nothings before sleep?”
My eyes are stinging daggers and my ribcage feels like stone
the legs won’t listen,
the air is stall
and the brain seems full of holes…
“Give me a reason!
Give me the bliss of things I cannot remember!
But put them in a box before…”
and let the rain washout the wax,
let it show those tiny cracks this statue of Adonis has –
I need not straight lines,
nor coronation over brothers,
no words to change me from inside,
no shaming of the Fathers…
Will I be able to forget,
to put aside all reasons of regret –
a mountain with a lake is all it takes
courage and strong hands
and burn the Empire,
may the Order fail…
Friends in time
I write stories without end and every word just comes to life
each one pulls a brick outside and lets me weigh my dream,
I build up statues from the mud with faces hidden in the dark
an army for my lover’s heart to find a time to breathe –
I am dressed in blue and black, holding riddles from the end
you are poetry in motion avoiding rhymes with dearly caution,
blood is rushing through our veins filling pulses hand in hand
waves are sweating on the sand washing out the books I rent…
All the question marks be broken
seek no more,
close the eyes and feed this feeling to your soul
the beauty’s in the moment
dare to stay alive,
love me from the distance,
let me love you from afar….
I write feelings hoped to last and shed light into the dust
we’re both meeting friends in time we’ve known for a while,
[draft]
Pink Floyd – Julia Dream
Ode to an old friend
Hello once again my oldest friend,
I have come to hear your steps and see those earthly hands…
each time I look around I see a dream you’ve built,
on the table lies your Bible
and there’s water by the door,
you wrote the years in clay and Sundays in the sun –
you were not a friend you are a mother living by her children’s steps,
you thought me how to pray before I walked…
And there is no puppet waiting on the oldest of the rocks
and the yellow-white hound is running in the cold
and the wind is slowly gliding through the leafs,
dear friend I’m bound to rise a cross to guide us to the hills:
a promise of the young
a dream of innocent
a gift to all the gods the world has ever had –
I shall never cut that tree I’ve told you once about…
Hello once again my friend
you’re in my eyes, my dreams and guide my steps to everything,
I am, I did not forget
and I am bound to rise a cross to shine above our sins…
Rebellion
I’ve been just a guy on the streets of yesterday
waking at the dawn with the thought to kill,
just a poor man walking daily to his fate
nothing good to loose and nothing good to gain,
he pushed me hard to become a star,
to the limits of my soul pulling stones afar,
if it weren’t for the music I’d be surely dead
crawling like a cockroach boiling in the sand…
And since glory’s growing out of shame
I got all these questions popping when she came;
like Shirley Temple wasn’t cute enough
my sweetheart’s smile was a mold in gold,
greeting all the loving words she’s told
I grabbed her hand and held her in the cold,
close to me she made my heart belong
and sorrows in her bones I cured them all…
God knows how could I’ve been so wrong
and neglect to cry when I was falling down,
her mouth had words that could cut the flesh
it’s only so much pain that one man can stand,
a summer Sunday morning the silence fell
whiskey, vodka and cigars on the bed of Rhone
a girl in white dress made my heart rebel
and where there was light the darkness veiled…
And I am lost in the countless words I’ve said
yet the truth is plain and simple and must be fed,
I’m gonna leave that scar in my chest to breed
to find the remorse and cure my burning need,
I can tell the facts apart but cannot cut this chain
I’m gonna walk away from things I’ve known
to pick up the pieces and rebuild my own
will I ever reach that day to soothe my strain?
Daemon
![a3242003123_10[1]](https://whoisalice.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/a3242003123_101.jpg?w=471&h=471)
Daemon…
I got a nasty daemon sitting on my shoulder whispering,
hard sex, whisky and cigars – that’s not what he’s showing me,
it’s a daemon of the rock bands from the ’70s
and this ghost is slowly driving me crazy…
I got these dreams of a guy called Reed on a Zeppelin,
I saw the landing on Mars with my very own eyes
and everywhere I go,
I see dead bodies of chords I thought I used to know;
white daemon,
I’m on my knees and getting sick for the 47th week,
I can’t control the need to rock and roll,
please have some mercy on my soul…
Daemon,
this need is slowly eating on my iron core
and with each day I turn more into a music whore,
an evil grin upon the face, a dirty Vixen with no name,
so I wrote lyrics on my walls from the bottom to the stars,
for one must get the words to find a door
like a magic incantation of a sorts …
Oh dark daemon,
talking nonsense on the backbone of my world,
release me from my contract
give me a life of endless sin, I’ll do anything,
but please put and end to dreams
and shut the voices killing from within…
Just a walk
Take the pill my friend from the sweaty hand,
we shall find together a tiny world were we don’t need to dream…
walk with me tonight
don’t talk to me this time
just lean on me and listen to my cry,
don’t give me hope nor cut the silver strings –
I have a demon feeding on the thoughts I can’t control,
he drinks the sun and rivers when they flow
I have a monster that I grow
that kills the life in every living soul;
come join me when I fall,
let’s run this mile in silence
and hold a candle when I swim just before the darkness,
swallow down the memories,
make the written word accomplice to my crime –
just a walk, it’s all that’s left to give
take this pill and find a way to dream,
they’ve stripped me to the bone –
a flawless act from dusk to dawn,
these creatures that I own…
Chemare II
Vino aproape,
să îmi petrec brațele peste umerii tăi,
vino să îți fur sărutul,
să îți presar flori de viță în plete,
ochi în ochi cu luminile stinse
vino să ne topim ca două piscuri de gheață,
apă sunt eu și tu ești o apă
și scriem portative cu unde policrome,
vino spre mine cu pașii de dans
să naștem amintiri pentru zile bătrâne…
Vino din nou
să scriem în doi jurăminte,
vino cu degete alunecând peste nori
vino cu sufletul însorit de flori,
să rostim într-un glas rugăciune,
și dintr-un trup tu și eu
să clădim temple pentru ziua de mâine,
haide acum să alergăm împreună
cu dor în priviri și inimă blândă
să așternem punți de foc peste veșnicii…
Un Jurnal Neverosimil 