sadness

No Christmas in December~

Wounds are healed with time, 

yet this time my wound is too 

painful too heal; death came 

too claim my father's soul~

 

Now sadness, confused tears,

and laments are heard 

throughout my home; this year

and those too follow there will

be no Christmas in December~

 

No present, gift, nor condolence

will bring my father back too life;

God selfishly took him away....

no holy night, far from silent; 

mother's cry awaken my 

slumber~

 

Burning the pain into the night 

does not contemplate the 

feelings within; a dirty glass 

brings stale memories....after 

taste of death on my lips~

 

The night before you will find 

me on one, maybe two binges 

of a chemical romance,  by the 

seventh binge I will be satisfied 

if my eyelids find rest~

 

Unhappy holidays without

decorative lights and a pine tree 

to display....while most will be 

merry, I will bury my father; for

you see there is no Christmas in 

December anymore~   

 

R.I.P {DAD} 

08/19/1950- 12/11/2014

 

Soulkritic° copyright 2014

Author's Notes/Comments: 

R.I.P DAD!!!

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A Sad Deer

He stands there,


Alone,


Dejected,


A deer.


 

Being thirsty,


Went it near the river,


All on a sudden,


A crocodile attacked him brutally.

 


It was fortunate enough to have lost one leg,


But, death is what now he does beg.

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tags:

The Fool

What do I do when 

Everything is not enough?

 

What do I do when 

I give all, and it is rejected?

 

What do I do when the love

That was meant for us two to share

Is cheapened by another?

 

Love is not cast away,

And suffering is sure to stay

And so alone I cry and moan 

And tell the world 'leave me alone!'

And accept what I never can condone.

 

And I wait for when 

She wants love, not lust,

And comes back to me.

 

I wait for when everything is enough.

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She Told Me

She told me that she didn't know

anymore what I thought we knew. 

She told me she was thinking still

of where to go and what to do.

 

She told me that she loved me still

yet she thought it best she go.

She told me that she always would

but in her eyes it didn't show. 

 

She left, and there I stood alone

as she swore I'd never be.

She left, and there I stood alone,

lost at home with her memory. 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is based on a conversation had on Sunday of Thanksgiving weekend of this year. It is raw and painful and I don't know what to do.

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Darkness

 

I miss the darkness and it misses me

 

We hold on to each other, even before we meet

 

A sunrise is a temporary hurdle to get through

 

 

 

I love the darkness and it loves me

 

We miss each other terribly when daylight reigns

 

A few torrid hours to let pass, let go

 

 

 

I save the darkness and it saves me

 

We hide in each other where no-one can see

 

A safety space we both deem it to be, solid and free

 

 

 

I fear the darkness and it fears me

 

We each are afraid of how we need each other

 

A solid ship sinking us in sordid dependence

 

 

 

I dream the darkness and it dreams me

 

We create scenes nonexistent to soothe me

 

A short respite from reality, tomorrow maybe

 

 

 

I breathe darkness and it breathes me

 

We lay back tears soaked in ecstasy

 

All bits brutally shattered and patiently gathered again

 

 

 

I taste the darkness and it tastes me

 

We swallow ourselves and relish the emptiness

 

A scene seldom seen or heard but always felt

 

 

 

I am the darkness and it is me

 

We cannot separate it from it from me

 

A hybrid reborn and redone each and every time

 

 

 

I know the darkness and it knows me

 

We both know our dance has got to wait

 

A new song will play till we meet again

 

 

 

 

 

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tags:

The Record Store, flash fiction story

The record store

--

It started with gray, gray everywhere. But it wasn’t in any sort of literal way; it was just a really rainy day that most of the room was turning gray. Two girls were lying at the floor with no motivation and lipstick smeared all over their chins. “This Is killing me, man” “Yeah, I know, but you were the first one who wanted to wake up early y’know?” “So what should we do?” “Well, it’s rainy, and we ate most of the food between yesterday and today, do you have any money left at all?” “As a matter of fact, I do, you know I’m very good with my savings” “Yeah? What about last weekend” “So? Do you want the money or not?” “Let’s go to a record store” “But it’s far away” “Your parents aren’t home anyway, and we have no electricity in this place, we might as well just stay here and it won’t change the fact that there’s nothing else to do” “Fine” one of the girls sighed “But if we do go to the record store, I’m not leaving that place until I find something of The Strokes” “Yeah yeah, hurry”. So they left the house and went to the nearest Record Store, and it was still gray everywhere. Gray, buildings, gray sky, gray people. They Arrived. And although it was still gray, it wasn’t empty at all. They entered, and assistant boys with black shirts were stacking everything really fast, because discounts of New Year ’s Eve were getting near.  “You go that way” pointing the alternative area “And I’ll go that way” pointing the oldies but goldies area. The girl at the oldies but goldies was mostly searching for gifts,  but she actually found very good ones by 80s artists such as Robert Smith, Morrissey and other, and of course, Glam forgotten artists. “There are so many” she sighed again. One of the boys with blue shirt arrived “Is there anything I Could help?” “No thank you I’m actually pretty fine” The boy, although he looked tired and as if he didn’t had a shower in 2 days still smiled with kindness “I see you’re holding a The Cure and The Smiths records, do you fancy 80s music?” “I Like it, yeah, it’s ideal for this weather” “I totally agree” “Thanks anyway” But the Boy still smiled and got closer “You know, tomorrow we will have more discounts than today, you should come back tomorrow, too” “Ah, you’re just saying that to help you get more money to your company” “You caught me”, the boy laughed, and leaned towards a stack of vinyl’s “You know, my mother introduced me to The Cure when I was little, I never thought I could like them so much, sometimes I’m very impatient with music, I like it or I don’t, and there’s no in between,  for example” and he took a bunch of albums very rapidly “Out of these ones (They were  New Order, Poison, Pulp, and other) “Do you think I could like them?” “Uh, I don’t know” the girl started to worry but remained calm “Probably, if you listened them” “Yeah I guess you’re probably right, but still, I hate it when bands change their style completely, like the Monkeys, do you like the Monkeys?” “Arctic?  Yeah, they’re good, I have most of their albums” “Well, their new one is terrible, it arrived really early in here, and I got a free sample” The boy started to get closer but still he was getting a childish-like anger. “…And It was terrible, don’t get me wrong, I love them, but I just can’t dig it, it’s not good music to me anymore, and my last girlfriend, oh my god, did she like ‘em, she was just a pain in my butt, always talking about them, not that I don’t like girls that like the monkeys, it’s just, I like more care-free girls, or maybe that’s just me, you know, they say, boys and girls look people who resemble to their parents, I think that’s psychology, not sure, but I’m studying a masters in politics so I’ll have to search for that ”

 

 “I need to listen to it. And, I guess, wasn’t that a Freud theory?” “We have it right there, but buy these ones today, and If you come tomorrow I can make you a great discount” “Sounds great” said the girl trying to keep up with the boy’s temperament “So, I know this will be me rushing too fast, and It’s illegal, don’t tell anyone, let me buy you a coffee, Starbucks, yeah” “As in, today?” “Or whenever you say” “Okay, okay, let me go back tomorrow” Sounds excellent to me” “Thank you, so that’ll be it, I have to back with my friend” “It was nice meeting you” the boy was still smiling with kindness but it was noticeable the lack of sleep he had “He probably had a lot of coffee” the girl said to herself to calm herself down of the amount of experiences she had with just one person. She went with her friend. The other girl was smirking almost laughing at her face “So I see you had fun ehhhhhhhhhh?” “Shut up” “Oh, come on! He’s not the craziest people you have met, and you know that, he actually looks nice, without that, caffeine, not-showering-in-days-look” “He talked about his mother and his ex-girlfriend with me, and other stuff I can’t remember” “Keeper!” the girl shouted “Shut up!” the other one blushed and gave a little punch to the other girl “Hurry up, please” “No, no, maybe I should talk to him too, he could become part of the family soon enough” “You’re terrible, I’m not buying you albums” “Alrighty, it’s okay, I got everything let’s go, I see you’re suffering” The Girl, still red took the albums and paid for everything.  They went out of the store, the boy was looking at them, but he was attending some other people. “It’s over now, let’s go and eat” “Yeah”. It was still gray, the buildings and people were still gray,  but even though it was gray, they gave the girls something to talk about on a gray day.  

Curses Too Kritic/ Invocations From The Soul- Part Four and Five

An hour pass midnight, my curse is

sleepless, mind weary, creative

thinking, imaginary vision; sleep-

walking in my dreams between

dimensions....Constantine!

 

Too walk in the dark one must

embrace the darkness, welcome

Moloch into your dreams, be aware

of the shadows that walk besides

you; often three shadows follow me

....nothing else matters once you

have sold your soul, enjoy the night

,and let the fire burn!

 

I met a lover in the shadows of the

night; her darkside is similiar to mine

, same interest, struggles, and

addiction....when all is quiet, stoner's

asleep, tweeker's hiding, and prosti-

tutes gone home, my lover and I get

naked and fuck at the crossroads

under dark skies, no moonlight....

only shadows!

 

Curse the damned, blasphemous,

heaven's abomination including me....

pale horse rider of the armageddon

with sinister ways; my name was

never written in the book of life!

 

Invocations to the dark, evil, and

unholy with sacrifice will open the

nine gates of hell; be careful when

evoking the spirits of darkness; if

your mind is not ready for what is to

come, your heartbeat will stop at

the sound of my feet approaching

your dreams, destroying your

sanity!

 

It is 2:10AM, invocations to the dark

side are becoming rituals, rites of

dragula, perversions, and manisfes-

tations; Lucifer speaks in demonic

tongues, no need to translate, I

understand! Invocations to Lillith

with ghost songs in cemeteries at

the witching hour; my soul possess,

the evil within bleeds over the tombs

of the dead!

 

SoulKritic 2014 Copyright

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Curses and Invocations....

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Curses Too Kritic/ Invocations From The Soul- Part Three

These curses I evoke are the

words spoken by angels,

toking knowledge and wisdom,

an invitation to eat from the

tree of life...become a God; the

difference between a schizo and

I, a schizo does not believe I

am God-

 

I cannot pray, the tongues I

speak are not angelic...my

language is unholy; time after

time temptation became a friend

too trust, my life balances on
different scales now; what I

knew and the unknown-

 

The end of my journey began

the day I was born...invocations

of death at my front door, I

welcome her in, stays for awhile

then leaves in an uproar; she
says I am conspiring to kill
her from my existence...she does

not know death/her is more alive

than me-

My curse is poetic, too narrate my

life with pain and roller-coaster

emotions; an empty feeling without

being empty...became a father only

too miss my daughter daily, if I sleep
tonight I will shed tears of sadness

before I slumber-

 

Broken, yet stronger after each fall

too stand tall again, take a few steps

and fall again...judges keep your jury
silent, throw away your verdict;

judge my soul, critic my efforts when

I am standing up...everyone falls!

 

Outside my window the wind blows

and whistles, tree leaves rattle,

whispering; no vacancy in the

gallows, fire away...my ammunition

are these words I convey, "While
you creep, your soulmate sleeps

with the poet unknown, daydreaming
unknown dreams, consciously lost in

lust."

 

Soulkritic® 2014©



Author's Notes/Comments: 

Curses and Invocations....

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Half a Queen

I never thought the day would come.

 

The love that used to swell up in my chest, lover, you know- the kind of affection that tightens your throat and awakens a storm of butterflies to stir up madness in your belly-

 

Gone.

 

I grasp desperately at frayed heart strings, hoping upon damned hope that I would catch a fragmented piece of the blind passion I once felt for you,

 

Drowning myself  in the suffocating  fear of something far worse than loving a calloused man;

Losing the ability to feel at all.

 

The pain you've caused, the wounds your lies and deceit have inflicted, has left me numb.

I once knew how to forget the world and slip into a blissful ignorance as I rested in your strong embrace.

 

Now those days flutter in the recesses of my tired mind, and soon memories of what was melds together with dreams of what could have been,like a patchwork quilt forged from  the juxtaposition of the  life you promised us and the much bleaker reality, stitched together with missed phone calls and unexplained late nights.

 

 

When I think of these things, late late at night; when I realize I'll never learn to stifle the voice in my head that tells me your words are poison,

 

because I've learned that small voice tells more truth than your fallacy laced lips,

those are the nights I'm alright with not feeling.

Tonight I clutch numbness close to my chest, nod at the empty pillow, and  smile at the sound of sweet nothing.