Greater ThingsA Poem by R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe) I wanted to write what empty feels like. Maybe a dream is what waking is. Maybe nothing is all something can be.  Greater Things
Lukewarm-hearted cathedrals of Sheol Sanguine phoenixes of double-helixes Torpischorean Prometheus disobedient incohesive guillotines To the scrawling hollow halogens Of an ominous hallelujah Of the crumbled angelic steampunk penumbra Homunculus sunken in the phosphorescent pestilence In the seafloor’s bottomless door of rigour mortis Incorporeal agoraphobic in its morbid forebear Of kaleidoscope endorphins blackest alabaster Cataclysms risen from the superstitious schisms We imprisoned in our ventriloquism Infinite labyrinthine christened in photosynthesis The chrysalis drifting eviscerating precipitation Pouring orchestras of encores metamorphosis Intercourses divorcing pandemonium The corroded chrome chthonian Symposium decomposing open wounds diplomacy Sown interwoven poetry, phatasmagorical chlorophyll’s cornucopia Copious sociopathic wrathful rapturous chronological anthologies Monoliths of metabolical Holocaust soft in the apocalypse Of docile apostles in the coffins Of their esophageal promised land Disenchanted pantheons amaranthine catatonic lobotomies Godfathers of goddesses transmogrified diabolical bride To the serpentine birth rites polycrystalline hieroglyphics lies Twined by twilight’s isolation cremating constellations agathion Graphite stars of cinnabar armadas scimitar vibrato Minotaur aficionados of the midnight charred belladonna Nirvana’s archipelago eldritch arpeggios Machiavellian demiurge clergies of purgatory’s Orpheus Tartarus reincarnated arbitrary chariots Bearing marionettes effigies iridescent resuscitating Escalations in the multicoloured tundra of subdivisions Tongues of thunderstorms envisioned superstitious Omnipotence Icarus falling through a symphony Glistening epiphany inquisition relinquishing on the wings of greater things Basilisks ecclesiastical masquerade sacrilege blasphemy’s rhapsodic melodrama Ventilating experimental extraterriestral espionage sabotaging onomatopoeia Valedictorian to the metempsychosis of waltzing poltergeists uprising hierarchy Raising spirits as if they were our own Chronological semiautomatic throwing shotgun weddings among the straitjacket catacombs alone Greater things call from the mention of Armageddons parhelion rising in the mourning son Clouds of mangled ballerinas catapulting through summer solstice unravelled scavengers of avenues Sidestreets free from the outpour of drumming feet on this hollow earth Thumping hearts beating the steel exoskeleton of the skyscraper graveyard’s cymbals Elysium’s graffiti amputee’s canopy lycanthropy gripping photosynthesis of deceased Prometheus Grey Mayflower’s dowry hallowed be thy halleluja thy kingdom come and gone Serpentine archives chandelier crowning the glass castles in the skyrise cage Compendiums, chronicles, flowers of the crushed dreams that cover the faces of asphalt cliffs Drowning airborne falling tall-growing stagnant alone as one many, gone The pale halo of a nightingales railroad racing across the tracks we left behind in our wake
Sleeping together, apart, whole and broken, hollow and full of memories, regrets, songs Things that do not matter, bones that do not live, lives that do not pass, never arriving Never leaving, never anything, or anyone, never left behind, only a memento not to be considered One death amidst the nothingness was never there to begin with There are no more stories There are no greater things than the weight we carry being lifted, no longer burden nor strength No longer sorrow nor uplifting, no longer worth my time No words or rhyme Alone in an empty nothing that means nothing to those who understand nothing to be nonexistent Lukewarm-hearts built to drown and die Built to not be known Built not to be a structure Walls that never got the chance to crumble were never walls You cannot hold me in this meaning, if no one else, nothing else, will ever come to understand it It might as well have never been The meaningful death will never live in the hearts who hear mute The trees may wither or bear fruit But they will never bear necessity They do not matter They never were worth the nothing that they are No God will listen to silence No silence will hear God And if you create nothing, does it truly exist? Is it known to you Does it matter if something becomes nothing? Will nothing be together in the lukewarm hearts Will we disappear from the blank page like a poem being unwritten backwards? Leaving view, not to ever be seen Will nothing be looked at like a photograph? Or a frame Will every one of you die alone Free of form Free of you Will your screams be silenced? Or were they nothing but silence to start with Ending the same beginning Coming apart left intact behind all these faded feathers Surrender your phoenix Flame has gone colder than the nonexistent void Cold was never felt Empty was never full Full wasn’t there to begin with Is there truly a greater thing Than a song never heard That never was a song Because no one had heard song Because no one had heard nothing The only thing no one could miss Missing still not yet nonexistent
Proud Nobodies
Every day rose and fell, like petals, flowing, unravelled spirals Isn't it beautiful? Face off with the masked men Their highest hopes Your deepest despair Your nothing is their everything, isn't it? They wish they were half as free Burdened to be something Never one, just many, flakes falling From the decaying surface The abyss they couldn't scratch The heaven we left behind Is their hell We've all been denied our promised land Every day rose (to Valhalla) and fell (in battle) Like petals, flowing, unravelled spirals Isn't it beautiful? Aren't the flowers still? In this moving picture of Memory Lane?
© 2020 R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)Author's Note
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R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)Burlington, Halton, CanadaAboutMost of my poems can be differing lengths depending on the time you want to spend reading them. You can avoid reading anything brackets, or read it all. If you want an in-between, you can read only th.. more..WritingRelated WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
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