Audible Medication

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Stat
We need a line
We need a dosage
This is serious

Quick
We’re losing vitals
Make it potent
This is serious

Melodies & harmonies
Rhythm & emotion
Feed it through the cables
Wired to my head

Cadence & cacophonies
Memories & tokens
Keep the beeping stable
Wired to my head

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Enclosure

Interred in juggernaut walls
Rifted as it were from form well fit
By cause or catastrophe untold
Folded for wilting
Petals lain in tired heaps about this enclosure
Swept up in figure crumpled slumped and sunken in efforts spent
To rend mortar from brick to crack sick structured severance
Laced in loosely laid arguments
Spun for movements yet untaken
In desperation resolve forsaken
Trapped
But not apparent
These exits hid for time when waking reason sheds inhibition
When sense and sensitivity are molded first for what cannot be seen
Which here now resides
Bent in shadow
Drawn for eyes of brighter respect
Whose lenses cleansed again repent the disbelief in trade for what is made
Gentle fingers to trace the contour of this devil’s grave
In truth to discover the clever architect of such cruel monuments
Could not a tyrant be
If indeed as tyrants go a hand external this would mean
Entombed in grave remorse or faded course
For drunken charting in love’s throes
A figure fair and sovereign did fashion such a cavern
If not by reason
Then by lack of will to look beyond a cold unforgiving frame
To name an enemy unseen a thing of dreams or even more a ghost
But ghosts do not here dwell
And ghosts
Though present nonetheless
Do not the dwelling of the living form
Nor lay the bricks
A holding pen
If that is what it is that you are in
May rise but ‘neath the guide of only one
The one in which resides this mortar
This brick
This mob of walls from which is not a certain door
And so laid
Crumpled on the floor
A figure bathed in cascaded darkness all it’s own
To wrap in rags from sorrow sewn
A thing of beauty
A thing of bright elements infused
Of such a race that angels envy for their loves
Disfigured in despair by air oppressed and rent of rest
And yet…
Free
If by choosing she will be
Uncluttered by restraint to paint a stroke of brilliant light
Across a night in need of such
For out the darkness
Blushes paths untaken
Words unspoken
Exits formed of threads being woven by hands which built
Perhaps unknowing
This dim and dreamless dark enclosure
To unravel walls well fabricated
But not from necessity here created
A farce are they
By motion shattered with ease
Poor creature you are not caged
You are not clipped as birds with wings
You are not held within these
As always you are liberated
And have been since when first created
Birthed unclothed and unashamed
Untold untrained and untamed
To build grander things than tombs in which to cower from a world of tombs
A world of rooms
A world of flowers wilted in walls built
By hands not meant for such doom
By eyes fused with colors unreflected without others
Arise to face these juggernaut walls
And find them weak
Made to fall
Spend those finely sculpted hands on other tasks of greater chance and higher call
Lit from a fist thrown firm beneath the tired chest of these apparitions
Move and live and love
And in so doing be the destroyer
Of your saddened heart’s enclosure

For Rising

Look to the clouds
Leave the ground
Take your place above the earth

Nothing here can hold you down
You were made to take the wing

Enlist the breeze
Find release
Take your place above the earth

See your purpose from the air
Put your faith in better things

Just as the birds defy the dirt
And are not afraid to fall
You must climb beyond this hurt
You must move beyond these walls

Nothing here can hold you down
You were made to take the wing
See your purpose from the air
Place your faith in better things

Friction And Popular Fiction

“it hurts” she tells me with a sense of acute emotion. A twisted wince and shudder brought on by, well, just life I guess. I stop to wonder why is it that at the first sign of pain it’s our natural reaction to digress. But I suppose that’s instinct for you. Survival and all. Keeping the race alive and helping us to reproduce. I do find it difficult to swallow the paradigm of just living and making babies because thats what people do. See, I think inside of us each somewhere there is a spark waiting to fly. A fire that could erupt if we ever let it go. And we want to. We really want to live with that sort of passion but we’re scared of all the things we don’t know. I’m sure the first fire started without man’s intervention. Probably lightening or some act of God, but then the people wanted fire and they fought to create it. They tried new techniques until finally one of them caught. I’m sure the first time they struck two flint stones together and ignited it people were astounded and that’s all well, but while they warmed themselves around their newly developed passion did anyone stop to ask about how the stones felt? I doubt it. Why would they? Rocks don’t have feeling. You just use them until they break and then get a new set. But people…well, we are different, but it still requires friction to get us fired up–and it’s the reactions you get like: “it hurts”. Well, yeah. Of course it hurts to find out you’ve been broken into pieces and your burning from the inside out. But in a way perhaps our lives are like a fire. We don’t last very long but we live better when we’re brighter. And, in the end, the ones who never caught a spark may have missed out on the friction but their living in the dark. Emotions aren’t for hiding and a the fires aren’t for fighting. The pain is just the process and it’s nothing that should seem frightening. after all, without a little pain we would never end up stronger. If you don’t ever stand up then you will never stand up longer. If you refuse to suffer you will never learn to heal. If you refuse the senses you will never learn to feel. If you run from everything you will always be alone. And if you run from yourself then you will never feel at home. If you can’t take the weather you will never feel the rain. If you plan to get the pleasure you will need to endure some pain. If you think life is supposed to be about always feeling happy. You will wake up one day realizing you really don’t have anything. See life is not about it all just falling into place. Life is hard to calculate and it gets in your face. If you want to be better then you’d better find out who you are. And if you want to burn brighter then don’t be scared of all the sparks.

Chrysalis

Woven of my visions
Beautiful incisions
Strands of separation
Threaded over me

Darken my surroundings
Closing in around me
Motionless suspended
Waiting for release

Chosen for entombing
Frozen in cocooning
suffocating slowly
Conscious of the space

Every fiber changing
Figure rearranging
Twisting through my framing
Captive by embrace

Patient for the broken
Remnants of this coffin
Shed on wings arising
Lead me into light

Chrysalis rebirth these
Eyes for only earthly
Wake me as a new thing
Wake me when it’s time

Forming ressurection
Lifted in perfection
Shatter these restrictions
Bring me wings to fly

Far beyond the surface
Higher to my purpose
Change us and rebirth us
Take us to the sky

When Away

Taken for the thought of being far
Still asleep beneath the stars
Earth is not so very large
Not as big as, say, my heart

Spoken in the darkness for a thought
How my love for you is not
Regulated by the mile
But is free within my heart

They could fire you away into orbit
They could send you out beyond the galaxy
That could never ever change for a moment
That my love for you is bigger than these

When away
I will keep you here with me
In a way
You can never truly leave
When I say
That my love for you is strong
What I mean
Is that it’s everywhere you go

And I know that you can’t hear the things I say
Or see the lines I’m writing on this page
I know that you may wonder if I’ve changed
But I will always love you when away

Looking Up

Make faces at the lemons
Life provides for flavoring
Don’t cry for broken wishes
Life is full of better things
You and I were made for dancing
Let the rhythm lead you on
I know it isn’t easy
But it’s worth another song

Don’t stop looking up
Pinky promise you will smile tonight
Lady you’ve cried enough
Everything will be alright
We have so much more to do
So much to be thankful for
So I’m going to smile for you
Knowing that I love you more

Stop swinging punches darling
No one is attacking you
Everyone loves you so much
Don’t say you don’t know it’s true
Patience is more than virtue
Peace is just a choice you make
Choose the best that you can do
Do the best for heaven’s sake

About This Blog

Vampire Weather is the mental outlet for the thoughts and feelings of a nameless poet. Rife with love, hate, fear, anger, joy, compassion, and plethora more emotions, enter at your own risk and don’t take anything too seriously…or lightly. If you like what you find, add your own comments, add a new line to the poem, or share this on your facebook. If you don’t like what you find, die a slow death, exit this URL, erase your memory, and be banished forevermore. Vampire Weather is not for your entertainment. It is for expression. Welcome.