Fade To BlackA Poem by R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe) One of my favourite recent works. I have been tough on myself. I, myself, refused to see the beauty in things. Even if I wrote them, or experienced them. Myself was a subject I didn't want to hear.
Existence
Mellow mandala of amaryllis, sprawling columns halogen Interstellar evangelicals etching dyslexic requiem Travelling the unravelling Valhalla’s dowry Of zigzagging attics splattered maddening labyrinths A canvas of balaclavas stratospheres of Lazarus In the manufactured pastures of Rorschach daffodils Mountain’s haze of everglade Corn mazes of Himalayans’ ravens Spray painted hazel with Azazel’s azaleas Flowery ballad of owl’s talon Valkyries Prairies alstroemerias grow marigold In a wasteland’s avalanche Sutra’s slue of perfume June Seducing the loose-lipped fruit of altocumulus The wheel of fate looping spindling Through the mucus of a cloud Oozing through the grooves of altocumulus worn by the morning The helix phoenixes swirling in pearly purgatory The whirlpool of a dirt world’s orbit The womb of a cratered moon The swell of evangelical melodies like tawdry lobotomies Earth’s face an oasis of skyscrapers anchored in sanctuary Cordial rosaries embroidery coiling tomorrow’s Ouroboros Mortar of porridge torrent of corridors Folding accordion-like Warbling waterborne corneas Swimming enkindling obsidian Incendiary rivers schism equilibrium Imprisoning rhythms of visionaries Scimitars of arteries in the cartilage Of tonic monarchs’ harmonies monasteries of Tartarus Talons of adamantine auburn origami astronomers Rearranging the stage lit constellations Origami astronomers in the Autumn bottomless Crossing the border of the page A boardwalk over the sands of time A desert crow of resonance Frivolous windmill capillaries basilicas of amaryllis wilderness The squirm of a hurricane, and ferns of turbulence Cocoons sutra looming in roomy fuchsia altocumulus pugilists Champagne camouflage of chameleon cathedral’s That speleothem through the embers of florescent memories Blasphemous capsized Gaia of Rorschach astronauts Shrapnel baptism in plastic ecclesiastical straitjackets And robes of comatose lotus leaf The phantasmagorical oracles of chromosomes Rodeo zodiac black aspers Ransacking pastures of masquerades Fading in the glade a bath of afterimages cascade Through chaos flailed cadence of the flavours of oasis Singing the linden strings of amygdala Polishing the bombshells of andromedas Ukuleles of opal brushstrokes stoking smoky osmosis Handcrafted daffodil tapestries, pastures Boulevards of onomatopoeia, constellations Omnipotence rippling ricochets grey in the cranium Mandalas umbrella balaclavas labyrinths Bedazzled lavender unravelling stalagmites Morsels of Orpheus storm clouds that ballad Porcelain orifices orchestrate orchards Of incorporeal Gregorian metamorphosis Orchids of endorphins phantasmagoria Staccato candelabra of auburn mahogany Dishevelled belladonna reverends Pedallers of seventh heaven’s Armageddon Weaving waves of leather everglades Obelisks of bottomless (holocaust) andromeda Frolicking in the palm of God’s hand Unhinged like a doorframe The butt of a cigarette (An empty glasshouse that fears no stones)
Smoke and mirrors Breathing in Kissed until breathless Drowning on a life’s sentence Tethered, blindfolded, following the word of God A flower’s noose of slender stems like spindly arms Blooming from the end of a ballpoint pen Murmuring bourbons from sealed envelopes The lisp of love letters The sound of the palatably sweet smouldering origami of lemon suns Rising from the bed of grass The blanket of stars, the covers of black ink Dreams of stained glass Touching every crevice and crack In the scaffolding of tapestries Echoing hallow, swallowing candelabra One in the chamber of a skyscraper
The Cutting Room Floor
Sideways eyes gaze And I am an island; among many craggy shafts, lands, and water Spires of xylophone skyscrapers Acres of makeshift driftwood daybreaks snake Across the deep horizon Blistered willow whispers christening lithium eclipse Falling across each other inwards Skimming rhythm rivers in the wind like linen A sky of dominos as the rough-edged heavens Brush together push and sever Stumble down the steps of a flower petal Jagged edged rose stuck between my teeth My mouth a garden of dead songs Like a dragon born from frayed pages’ beige mosaic Lacquered pyramids pushing up from the burial ground of forgotten words Greased in the blood of poems, high-rise of vinyl wyverns They call me a lyre, They play at my heartstrings, strumming underworlds Until I give them what melody they see fit to use Or sentences, metaphors or metamorphosis, poems Euphoria born of a primordial tongue Sliding across the sharp of a knife salivating over A slice of life mute to the static A channel of ink across the stream of silver screens Hoping I make the cut for a board of directors Not one who hasn’t shown his face in years
Brother (Pastor)
The whistling obituaries of moons Glistens on the small of my back Imprints of hieroglyphics whimpering symphonies Ventriloquism missionaries of lithium polycrystalline pistons Sophisticated infinities of idiosyncrasies’ incubus Porcelain accordion ghosts of osmosis Corpse scarecrows of marrow a shallow pasture’s hourglass Basins of nature’s faceless polymerization Grandfather clockwork nocturne sonata of opera Blossoming rakshasa of the coffer’s Apocrypha Lost in the static lathering amethyst of cataclysms The pale cradle of angels sprouting velvet elegies The valleyed bowels of gallows Valhalla Marrow of halos hangnail coattails tumbleweed of fields Fiends wearing blazers of azaleas flail in the wailing wind Jailed thin, derailing the lackadaisical Pastors of masquerades, basilicas pavilion In the umbilical silicon The vermillion scintillation of human will Beginning the ending at the bend of a pendulum Lost to the gospels of apostles Dishevelled kettle of sprouting cerebellums Alphabetical hemorrhages of a newlywed Armageddon The annual manuals granite of malleable light Fight in the depths of resurrection The breath of pestilence, evanescence in every spectacle Vestiges of a blessing’s afterimage flimsy in the schism of rain The rhythm of the brain A prison and a chain The cryptic puzzle a muzzle A fluttering motherless butterfly smothered alive Over the mouth of God A bonfire of dreams bleeding like a second sun My younger brother Looking up to God like a pastor Following unworldly law without a master As if our garble could mimic the word of God The dice is cast We’re all b******s Born capsized from the snatch of rapture’s chapel Collapsing under the weight of the heaven on our backs Sprouting from the mouth of God Without another’s name to mention Crescendos peddling ghettos of cerebellum revelation Creation’s good-natured abomination A shadow of the past A cat crawling on (the chicken scratch of) my back Who’s bones still rattle against the blackboard of my skull Juvenal and ludicrous, a pugilist of the nude altocumulus (The stretch of coalescence) Like a Rorschach’s pastor An inkblot, I still body paint myself upon the page In God’s image But I am no reflection No moon The abyss hides behind my smile I have swallowed it Brother, you are mistaken The word of God is nothing Next to silence But emptiness? (Ringing into this black box of white noise) The space crammed between our hearts? These vinyl libraries that haven’t tasted life’s tongue Licking wounds dry of salt, and chalk, and cream That is eternal A pageless book (We of life cannot read) (Lost between the lines) (Of telephone poles)
Movements of Memory
Steampunk tundra of thunderclouds Rumbles strung strumming the long songs of summits On the small of my back Coagulating magenta Wings of crippled airplanes binging on oblivion Molotov andromeda cauterize sunrise Magenta nebulas tendrils lost in the wine Branches of hippocampus amplifiers of kaleidoscopes Streetlight scythes of diced snake eyes Waltzing incomprehensible You can only reverberate for so long Against these walls Decay, stray, (ricochet) from the (crocheted suede of the) page Movements luminous of pencils decompartmentalize the pretzeled utensils Instrumentals renaissance the cauterized horizon Movement sleuthing fluidic dictionaries polycrystalline fairies All-consuming tsunami bombarding armaments of cartilage Cursive murmuring hurricanes’ translucent fluid, entangled lucid Repetitions, crypts rupturing the eardrums of time Suffocating succulent succumbing unwind To the drumming of succubae Writhing kaleidoscopes of opal phantasmagorical oracles born To lord over the sheep without a shepherd Tethered To the madness without a method Weathered Drenched in our own Armageddon Sweating setting suns Spun around the circumference of umbrae Skin of leather rungs Plucking feathers from angel wings
Essence
Essence, prairie, meadow, suede, sway, shapeshifting My face an endlessly shifting maze Of broken limestone, tomes of eucalyptus Trapping sweat between Skin stretched walls creviced with renaissance A shifting clockwork labyrinth A phosphorus metropolis Of facial features, expressions, wear Towers of Babel climbing over each other Reaching for the Sun To hold tenderly as a bluebird in the palms of their hands Perched on the tendrils of ukuleles The ribs of a guitar Spiralling string of cat guts Mellow meadows angelical cerebellums Swelling melancholy umbrellas Of quelling enveloping melodies Telekinetic swivelling billowing amaryllis Still image visage of pillows willow wisp Visionary marionettes gasping for breath Grasping at death Rasping caskets of shadows running along the wall, footsteps Like paint peeling into speleothems Deeper than the bottom of the page Shadows travelling mountains of Excalibur Deathless maleficent Persephone Her vassals ecclesiastical to the blasphemous Asphodel Rapturous Ragnarök docking by the river Beckoning spectres of requiem Through the chalice ballet of ectoplasmic balaclavas Of clamorous labyrinths Of Lazarus plateauing monochrome oceans supernova Lanterns phantasm unravelling circumnavigating the fabric of planets The anvils of Babylon Wrapping rhapsodies of apathy capsized In our thick lungs Imprisoning a candle’s prisms And spitting idiosyncrasies (The crowning of trees) (Starving for reincarnation) (Skin graffitied in tattoos) (Of crisscrossed swastikas) (Blossoms ink in the blackest tapestries) (Laughing daffodils of Priscilla’s ventriloquist)
Dream
Offspring of crisscross nocturne Flock to the gospel of phosphorus metropolis, gelatinous mockingbirds Offshore porridge mortar of the forge’s fingers incendiary A gorge of exploratory corneas Born of floral ornery accordion phantasmagoria Pastels of elegies mandala eldritch bliss Chrysalis polycrystalline of apostolic eclipse Apostles the blossom lost again Dancing hands cramming shadowlands of chrysanthemum Lavender and dandelions in the night fire Grovelling mitochondrial andromeda Polyphonic onyx sonatas iguanas Anaconda their way around the Nile Lilac spires of high-rises diving iris of barbed wire Bottomless Autumn’s vase of menageries Andromeda cauterizing violet cottontail haloed maelstroms Trailing mosaics in the gale rusted rose of railroads The thorns still sharp as the nails That scraped them a halo in this garden Where fruit doesn’t grow on trees A river sleeping in peace like a reaper Creeping through the secret of equilibrium Cracked sidewalk and broken wings Masks lilac and monochrome bling Mementos of heavenly prairie concertos The consensus to senseless dimensions of Mediterranean azaleas Volatile choirs, briars of nihilism Rising with the setting sun Screaming silence from our lungs
Penny
Onyx comets tomahawk from the blossoming faucet of nocturne The bronze constellations of masonry a frayed ageless mosaic Cremated of lackadaisical hatred Remedies of blemished crevices Cemeteries of memories in the blessing of evanescence Dynasties of winding cypress trees The unravelling scalpel of an avalanche Balcony of pelicans Valkyries Stygian wings of infinity obsidian blizzards Mental fences that barricade suede thoughts Of the mind stuck between serpentine snaking oasis Ribboning oblivious photosynthesis Open mouths dry as sandpaper That cannot scream obscenities Like ferns brittle in the breeze Once kissing the sober drunk Now peeling paint Wallflowers of sagging flesh Lullabies of silence (resurrect perfection) Where once noise itself crowded into one room gathering Cramming its roots into hollow spaces Overflowing pavilions, overfilling glasses The butterfly with a pin through it stuck on my wall Teaches me how to fly With a hole in my heart/chest The wind whistling through me Grasping for something Anything that fills the gap In my humanity Covering up the scars that smile With their red teeth With all my endless madness Led astray By those who claim to have found themselves, or God Salt in the wound purifies, yes But then again, Dirt grows flowers And rainwater drenches my skin And crawls off my back Sliding off those who stand tall In gross numbers Baptized cities shining with angel tears As another penny rolls down into the gutter In the bowels of cities Looking (for/to touch) the bottom unanchored To go further than too far Down the trail of a sentence Crows sitting in the lap of a city street Adrift the river Lethe, Vishnu’s mistral, (pistol Icarus) In this forest of silence I can hear the world speak I can hear the silent speak I can hear myself speak, murmur(ing) poems Hear me, strangely, (murmuring poems) (Rhymes unwinding silence’s spiralling kaleidoscope) (Vibrating fibers, vocal chords, choirs of denied dialects) It truly is a revelation The one who understands everything Can never be truly understood Maybe wisdom is not meant to be heard Tuned ears like instruments, listen (to the conductor) Dea(f/th) to the silence
Human
Tumbling into nothing Ricocheting off the walls of a concrete heart Down into the decrepit depths below Where did the love go? Perhaps it buried itself in a cracked mirror Or a cup of cold coffee Watching the madness That is us all Lackadaisical, terpsichorean In the rut of our lives I am sprouting from the soil A flowering memory There is no garden Only this fresh grave, Waiting for me And all my friends are smiling Somewhere below the heavens I see through the cracks Sometimes The outside world is banging on the door to my room The other side It isn’t that far away The blacklight reflecting On the face of a moon, or clock As the hands continue to turn Spindling the sentences into nothing Until the silence Finally overwhelms The sound of this world Ticking, crawling In the malleable closeted vase of my clay shadow God makes light of me But I am blind To his sound And cannot taste His touch Anymore than he can feel Temporary, or even Human Or anything At all For We are born/bent out of Shape Inside out
 © 2021 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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