poemsofasadenglishmajor

[poemsofasadenglishmajor]

Chongqing, China

Sorrows of a generation which lost its youth and health to the efforts of the Cultural Revolution echo upon your streets. You breathe and exhale in unison with your children, your roads, like veins distributing underslept workers from their cages into their gilded cages. The trains painfully penetrate your facades, and wires, like intestines, start falling out as you try to hold them in like a child holding chestnuts in its shirt. The residual sadness and angst dissipates in the smoke of tens of thousands of Chunghwas which light upon your walls, you great castle. Housewives argue between eachother who’s clothing line is who’s and you listen intently, like a father listening to his children bickering. You poor thing, so old, yet expected to raise another and another, replacing the stolen mother. Will you stand for another day? Can you stand for another day? Do you wish to dissipate and crumble onto yourself under their demands? Are you better at being human than me, you concrete thing?

[poemsofasadenglishmajor]

Brno, late Autumn

Social studies, Social kaleidoscope My wallet’s empty. fuck. I’m broke. Last drag of a rolled dart I enter humanity’s heart

Cadets march to their garrison The old men share some jokes I smell the wisdom of those blokes The city breathes in unison

In their eyes you can see mothers weep: “Off they go to their races” Salarymen board the tram half asleep The city breathes in paces

I stumble onto the street and in a drunken rage I scream: “Why can’t I find someone to search for my dream?” Buildings twists before me like a carrion of a mare The city gasps yet again for air

I drown in the cool air like a cod How can I know who here to trust Smiles so genuine it makes them odd Now there’s nothing and I choke on dust

Like a mariner holding onto a barrel at sea I live between two realities of me Which city is mine, is it Prague or this benign nest? Which lie fits me today the best?

[poemsofasadenglishmajor]

Alicante, Early Autumn

I feel the sand between my fingers, The salt seeps into my wounds. The light buzz of a red wine, Rings thoughts of last days of mine. The city, she talks to me, The hills look down onto my soul, Conversations as empty as a bowl, All I can think of is she. I seek shelter in the Lord’s home, But his children ask for tributes, Disenchanted is my soul, Bitterness takes me, like a tv mutes me. Here I stand, knee deep in water, As a Spanish springs salty breeze, Oh so gently guides my mutter, “My friends, what is art?” I sneeze.

[poemsofasadenglishmajor]

Treachery.

You will for me walk naked through the pandemonium of Cocytus, Son of Hathorne, show me your back, as I’ll lash it with thorns, I wish to hear you make excuses, Gatsby, they’re so ridiculous, Even if you hide it in your locks I can see the blackened tips of horns. You wronged me once, Shame on me. For letting my guard down, For using a drug that blunts. So come forth and let me rip your tongue out, watch you freeze your fingers as you chase it the rigid ice, As it slithers away from its old master’s shout, And from your bones I’ll carve out your fates deciding dice. You wronged me now twice, Shame on me. For letting your snakelike tongue, Squeeze my brain like a vice. I’ll kick you in the stomach, and let you fall down to the deepest pits, To the ancient city Uruk, Where the dogs will feast on your giblets. You wronged me thrice, Shame on you. For forcing my gentle hands, Into ripping off your wings. Do you know she cried in my hands because of you? You long forgotten friend, You ginger bastard, You terrible devil, You traitor.

[poemsofasadenglishmajor]

Fraud.

Like a cliche of what a poet should look like, I fumble my words down the halls of Alexandria, Searching for phrases to describe emotion, Those which grasp onto my heart so tightly. They’ll impale my guts like the pray of a shrike, I feel that every word I utter will make the souls angrier, I wish to show to my profession my devotion, the feeling that I’ve lost honour and I’m unknightly. That I am no longer truly myself, a worthy reflection of my heart, That I am a snakes oil seller, A long tale teller. A fraud.

[poemsofasadenglishmajor]

Violence.

For your first act, watch me, as I’ll do it only once.’ Watch as I’ll fucking rip you to shreds, You ignorant and blind animal, Which calls itself my kin, but you barely fit my skin. For my second act, listen to them, for they’ll cry only once. How they had to keep my casket closed, and scraped bits of thoughts off the walls, And gagged and wept as they begged for a feelings remorse, And huddled there in prayer around my lifeless corpse. For their third act, mumble to yourself, as you wander in the streets of Damascus. As I sit there amongst the heretics and freaks, I’ll cry out with my gouged out eyes at you, And you’ll gaze and wonder why they burned me at the stake, For my crimes of the murder of God, Art and State.

[poemsofasadenglishmajor]

Heresy.

My street is a street made of cobblestone enveloped in cream and daffodil lights, My heart bleeds for you, like Longinus you impaled it with your prongs, I still feel your mouth inside mine, teeth grinding against tongues. Without you,I’m lost at sea, like a mariner I’ll drown in my sleepless nights. Spit and tears combine into a concoction that a poet’s dreams are made of, Blood and sweat will congeal upon Eros’ brow to paint an image I’m afraid of, I will burrow once again into my sheets and escape my mind prison’s bars, Struggling for freedom, hiding between the scribbled lines and kisses tasting of tars. That ever-present feeling my mind always returns to, That I’m not enough to hold the angelic you.

[poemsofasadenglishmajor]

Anger.

Nobody expects you to do anything anymore, Your incompetence overshadows your own terrible reputation, Your inability to fight the muck and puss of stagnation, And you’ll act like you’re the victim weeping like a sycamore.

Not even one finger will you lift, Not once to love’s embrace will you drift, You’ll be slowly forgotten and torn to shreds, You’ll be remembered only as fragments in beds.

I wish nothing but the worst for you, oh, son of man, Which tries to play himself as some hero who can, Bless his church with his oily mirth, Ascend to glory, to escape his own filth.

This is my line, guess this is it, You’re a real piece of shit.

[poemsofasadenglishmajor]

Greed.

I drink and I smoke and I drink and I smoke, I laugh and I cope and I laugh for a sliver of hope, And then I’ll go and eat whoever’s near to feel something inside of me, And then I’ll go and buy shit to feel like I’m not my own enemy. And I’ll cry burning tears in my bed as I envelop myself in expensive clothes, And I’ll watch from my chair with a glass of wine as it’s eaten by the moths, I’ll run from the emptiness by exploring my own vanity, And then I’ll find a reason to keep a hold of my sanity. 

[poemsofasadenglishmajor]

Gluttony.

The pukelike greenish gaze seeps in vain, “Ye citizens were wont to call me Ciacco; I, as thou seest, am battered by this rain.” adoró a las murallas como un perro flaco.

I feel too much and also too little, A deep engraving onto my soul i will whittle, Like the branches of a young whistle, I’ll lash myself till I’m again brittle. Or maybe I’ll just pretend to do so again, Longing for change that I know I’m too weak to do, And I will rip my  soul’s seams and hem, And I’ll throw up what I mixed tonight with another brew. And I’ll overdo it all until my friends call barely call me cogni, “Nessuno ha il coraggio di vivere al livello dei propri sogni”

[poemsofasadenglishmajor]

Lust.

Sex feels like my salvation, When I interlock with another, And I feel like tomorrow will not come, To escape the morning's grasp for only a moment. For another fleeting glimpse, With another kiss, For another kiss, With another girl. It never feels quite right, To hold someone tight, Who doesn’t really care, It’s just too much to bare.

[poemsofasadenglishmajor]

Limbo.

The lights inside the doctor's office reflect text, The yellow liquid in my pint reflects my madness, The water in my bath leeches away my stress, My last cigarette, feels like it’ll be just the next.

It was supposed to be a fresh start, a change of pace, Instead I feel like I’m stuck in place, The city smog wafts past my face, And I feel comfort knowing I’m in my place. Those little moments when I sit and lament, Re-emerge the thoughts that deeply torment, 2 in the morning with a burning cigarette, Two hearts that unfortunately have never met. Can you give me one last cigarette? Can you bless me with one last kiss? Can you pray for my soul to rest? Can you bless me with one last kiss?