Once More

I wrote a poem called Once in the past. This is the same poem with minor changes. I felt could not overwrite this work. So there will be two separate versions now.

Part I

 

Once

 

In the opera of a crosswalk

 

In the lap of a city street

 

In the arms of the sun’s mother

 

In the smile of a rockface

 

The palm leaves sprouting

 

From what I know like the back of my hand

 

Rhinestone bracelets, flowers, shackles of our bonds

 

Chainsmokers of the moonlight scythe

 

Run from the daylight like the cradle of a shadow’s avenue

 

The stars leaping before an endless night

 

As if in fear of God’s touch

 

Once I was a bright devil of a Morningstar

 

Once I was a cold beer in an empty fridge

 

The leather-bound pages that I wore like a second skin

 

The children that laugh at the mention of my name

 

And the suffering, and the bullets, guns, war, and poison

 

Once, I was a regular soul drowning among so many pebbles

 

I was a good song after another long night of silence

 

I was laughter that we all shared

 

Laughed at

 

Once, I regain my voice

 

I will sing a beautifully sad love song

 

Of death’s destiny knot to tangle with life

 

And strangle himself blind as a double-helix in the twilight's bondage

 

Once, he was a lowly blemish of static on a television

 

Once, he was a stain of mildew on the steps of a crooked church

 

He too, believed in a god who was not a saviour

 

Not a saviour, but a watchman, a storyteller

 

And he too, was once

 

Something human, ordinarily unique

 

And we wore the skull and crossbones, tongue and cheek

 

Of a shipwrecked flag across our faces, together

 

Like a mask

 

So that the tears, would never fall

 

And when I entered the dance of this masquerade

 

I forgot the look of my own face

 

Crying in front of the bathroom mirror

 

Like a monster made for gentlemen to slay

 

Like a beast that was human on the inside

 

Among beasts that were human on the outside

 

Once before

 

And again, again, smile, smile like you’ve never smiled before in your sad life

 

Like the world cares enough to flinch

 

When it sees you bare your teeth as yet another burden's direction

 

When it sees fear in your eyes like its own reflection

 

(To double-cross the headlines of perfection)

 

(The sweetest cure for the infection)

 

(To master lessons meant to question)

 

(Move an inch for every misstep’s apprehension)

 

(Every crescendo crescents Everest vessels sceptre speckles resonance incandescent)

 

We all have our cross to carry

 

Till nothings left but ash to bury

 

A canoe across the moon to ferry

 

The tranquil remains of aimless picture frames

 

Echoed manifestos blessing tempos vesicular

 

With the resurrected tempestuous effigies on the breeze of Bethlehem’s Nephilim’s sepulchre

 

As the world moves forward without looking back

 

And every star in the night sky, goes black

 

Once there was a secret chord

 

That David played and it pleased the lord

 

But silence doesn’t care for music, does it?

 

A storm of spirits frothing never calm

 

A cauldron's swan of mantras spawned by penumbra’s triumphant cause a trumpeter’s swan

 

But my words are not a silly song

 

Carved in hearts turned apples, ebbing dawn

 

And once the apple falls from grasping trees

 

I will be the ashes on the breeze

 

(Steel hearts on edge, a petty thief)

 

But I will never up and take my leave

 

For if the play were yet to end

 

You would forget my memory once again

 

Waxing and waning in complacent polymerization

 

Chiselling vermillion from the bark of monarch butterflies

 

Baptismal cerulean basilicas of skylines' wine wandering winding wider iris under eyelids

 

Death a priestess of terpsichorean mausoleums reaping sweeping creases Eden's Mona Lisa

 

Sculpted exulting frolicking alters where diabolical martyrs flounder auburn mitochondria

 

The crown of trees worn by the worms of the forest's tune

 

Somewhere between the sun and moon

 

A wildflower, once, has bloomed

 

Pull the weed out by the roots

 

And if you have any bonds, then keep them loose

 

Lest your enemy be a towering spruce

 

For the crows will watch you

 

From their roost

 

A bed of nails, or just a tooth

 

Any branch

 

Could be your noose

 

 

 

Part II

 

 

 

 

And the maiden, the widow, called Night

 

Will take off her kaleidoscope mask like a weeping willow

 

Revealing a bottomless God rippling on velvet chains

 

The cornucopia of a supernova bearing fangs

 

Dangling without a name

 

Only smiling in a picture frame

 

Defiling nihilism's victory

 

Wiped from the memory of history

 

Under sunlight blistering

 

The starlight a glistening missionary

 

A blackbird's chariot of carrion

 

An acting marionette vicarious

 

Contracting refractory blasphemy castrated afterimages

 

Of alabaster swirling hurricanes pirouette elastic chastity of a masquerade of basilisks

 

Lazulite stalagmites of rhinestone kaleidoscopes

 

Piano recital dialing vinyl climbing landlines homicidal lilac in spiral (silo denial)

 

Like the beautiful rose of a maelstrom's ghost

 

I am a crack on a shell, an abyss of a yoke

 

A slack-jaws yell, a nightmare awoke

 

Born inside out, a hollow-hearted host

 

A hangnail unravelling from a telephone poll

 

I am a bell's parabellum, I'm payed to toll and toil with voila

 

Smoldering from my corneas

 

The night takes off her mask,

 

Revealing God;

 

A lazy elephant charging through a jungle of tears.

 

Sometimes I look into the abyss;

 

And see my own dark reflection

 

So much more flaw than beauty

 

The prairies chandeliers of marigold

 

The shambling dandelions of hangmen

 

Intertwining bleeding terpsichorean Ferris wheel paraplegic

 

Meanwhile I sleep in a waking nightmare

 

Of darkness’s own distorted courtyards in motion

 

Like a contortionist of rigour mortis

 

Like the party host of spectres born abortions of the inside

 

Eat your coldheart out like a soft served sentence

 

Once, I was a tear rolling down the side of an empty glass

 

Once I was a forest of empty arms hoping to cradle love I'd yet to lose

 

Cherry blossoms blooming their loose screws jubilant in a lucid Jerusalem

 

Rotting, is the sweetest fruit

 

Any branch

 

Could be your noose

 

Even a stump

 

Can tell a story

 

A vortex of porcelain Rorschachs

 

Expurgatorius scorpions born Capricorn metamorphosis  

 

Embracing darkness' blissful twister eucalyptus

 

A worn down mountain bears a bitter fruit

 

In the graveyard wasteland, of its ancient roots

 

Once I was an unhinged door to a locker room heart

 

(Once)

 

(We were)

 

Once

 

I was

 

An open branch

 

Extending its hand

 

For an endless dance

 

Where castles stand

 

Adrift in sand

 

Every man

 

Is bound to lose

 

Any branch

 

Could be your noose

 

There is no requiem

 

No refuse

 

No fair passage

 

Walking in our shoes

 

Because in the end,

 

Death’s hand will choose

 

And if then my friend

 

You’re/We’re born to lose

 

I’ll bend the rules

 

I’ll carry you

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

I promise I read every single review, and I generally will reply to them. I look forward to my next review, because it helps me learn. Even if it's just one word, I promise, I will be happy to hear anything you feel needs sharing. Whenever you write on my shortcomings or breakthroughs, or the themes of my poems, or share ideas and friendly criticism, it decides my next poem to an extent. I will listen, learn and be thankful. And 99% of the time, you'll get a reply unless you're trolling me.