Tag: gothic imagery

Obligations, Broken Down Caravans, Piecemeal Puppetry Part 1

One day, a lady sat down by her dank and musty window. Her eyes barely remembered the landscape that stood before her. Yet yesterday she knew all the intricate shades of the kaleidoscope that stood before her. This moment of temporary insanity she tried to hold onto, but it was not something that wanted to be held. It was something she needed to let go and give back to the universe, whatever darkened and imperfect part of the universe it had come from.

Still the lady had to live today as today, not as yesterday or not as one of the forever distant tomorrows trapped within the recesses of her mind. Most of those tomorrows would never come, yet in this darkness that surrounded her, she would have been ill-fated to predict which apples were oranges, which princesses would turn into pumpkins.

On the ground nearby, she found a small piece of paper. She didn’t know how to make odds or ends of it. She sat there and stared at it. There was something about it which made her smile but since she had forgotten so much of her life, her existence, her being, she only just stuck it away in an important place.

Yet she did not have much faith in the importance of this place, so she called upon one of the other shadows that had recently crept its way forth. How was this shadow even deemed as friendly you ask? It was just a feeling, it was just something she could not explain at this given moment. Her belief in anything and everything around her had stopped but she remembered that as recently as a few days ago or a few weeks ago, there was infinite possibility.

She knew this could flower and flourish again so soon in the distance but she needed his shadow to take her into the light today. She sat down in her motorized scooter and asked for his help. They hovered off into the distance. It was as if he had crowned her with hope, dipped her in holy water, or gave her her first kiss. But she did not remember any of those things, so it was all of those things melded into one and tied with a tight double knot of innocence.

 By SpaceDog

Frozen

I’m frozen here at the crossroads
Where not a moment of time doth pass
Sitting here with a vacancy sign
Yet it’s been so long
The motel doesn’t remember when it felt its final blast

Bouncing off clouds as expansive as the mind can dream
Listening to the dawn creep forth
Between the cries of the banshees
And your several last hypocrisies

Molded to the roadway
Your spirits charge around
I can feel the victory
Yet am not sure the victory will be found

Bewildered as to why this capsule
Ever travelled so darn far
Hampered by the lack of  brilliance
Why has the darkened sky taken me to the brightest fading star?

Lucid and rebellious
Cunning and mystique
Nothing is remembered
As I hibernate back to my sheath

Terror has forgotten
Malaise has taken its own path
Leaping bugs recalling
When the ground wore down their backs

This dawn has come upon us
We lost it along the way
And as he forever marches
Comes the beauty of my day

By SpaceDog 

Puddles, Insomnia, Ghosts

(All my blogs from now will have a song attached that tries to go with the blog ranging from quite well to quite well but only after 10 mixed drinks. link is below my ramblings.)

I had great big plans for today. A wonderful schedule written on the whiteboard. A premade breakfast in its properly place. And then you showed up. It happened when I least expected it. It always does.

Your face showed up on my ceiling. In between the tears that tasted so salty on my lips, I caught your glimpse. I briefly smelled your scent, heard you tapping at my window. Then it was all gone, just as soon as it began.

My puddle diver. I cannot believe it has been over five years since you went away. It seems like it were just yesterday. That I could see your smiling face. Hear your carefree.

Sure, I have to dig a little deeper ago then five years, because five years ago you had lost your shine. Well not the shine, I could never see you not bathed in some kind of wonderful light. Time had taken away your smile. Time had dulled a certain part of what made you so wonderful to me. It was subtle at times but probably was much deeper. All I could see at times was my ignorance in a reflection.

I know you are still here even as I write these lines. I’m for some reason listening to Ani DiFranco. She was always more your lesbian side. Mine was this ridiculous interest in sports, but not like playing them because I didn’t want to mess up my great skin.

We were once young and well in comparison to you I guess I am the younger one now. Any age is a much more desired one then the agelessness being a corpse provides. Ageless beauty is some myth an undertaker decided to vomit onto the general population one too many moons ago.

I still remember painting with you. I had camped out at your house for an entire week, not some stormy weekend that eventually became our trademark (and demise.) You painted me a shirt. It was the silliest thing ever yet I cherished it so much. I even wore it in public a few times. I was so proud to wear your colors.

Then I threw all the colors out the window. We all did. It was my own personal prequel to 13 Reasons Why. I was such a horrible person that I’m sure I would have made the list more then once. So afraid to help because I was still so afraid of how I felt about you. I was always completely petrified. Even though you are gone, I’m still lost because of you.

Yet here I am now. I’ve been waiting 5 years to write this. As if I am somehow immortal. Some alien form that is going to outlast the cockroaches. Sadly, this shan’t be the case. I simply want redemption. While I cannot have this with you, it is something I deeply need for myself.

I cannot sit my the window any longer watching life pass me by. Instead, I will run. Flat on my face. I will fall. A lot.  It is no longer my time to just stare out at the rain.  Because I am the storm. And you forever are my Puddle Diver.



Obliterated Sunshine By Spacedog

.One cold and rainy day in September, I layed my head down for a short nap. I had a few plans for that day, no more then most days, but felt a certain comfort and a certain ease in my steps. It was about to happen. The clouds that had gathered in a firestorm around my head were beginning to clear up from their eternal misery and gloom. I carefully placed my head on that pillow. He was next to me. He who could exist only as a dream, as a figment of my imagination was breathing right there. I had to pinch myself to believe that everything that was happening to me really was. It’s always like that pinch or suffocate, pinch or suffocate. The greatest day of my life or just Halloween all over again. I closed my eyes. I thought if I kept my eyes closed that time would stand still. It really doesn’t, you just don’t really age at all. It’s like virtual Botox. Anyway…..time was not standing still it only felt like that illusion, it was that illusion for that moment. I fell face first into that illusion. I didn’t have time to catch myself as my right cheekbone crashed into the tar of the road. I forgot to pack my angel’s wings and couldn’t prevent the cascade of gloom doom richotting down my spine. And then I was awake. I was here typing this blog. Here but really gone. Enigma speaks from her cave atop the highest mountain. The villagers perch their ears to listen. AWAKE? No, it never really was a dream. It was reality. Long obliterrated sunshine. The memories having been forgetten, no longer really exist. They only exist in my own head, only as real as Ebeneezer Scrooge or Hayden Caufield or Anne of Green Gables. They are real, but if you are the only one left that can remember what once was, should we hold on to these things or leave them long forgetten? I am a firm believer in the mind. I know what it is I am here to do (shhhhh I’m not telling) and believe that is something else forgetten. Not obliterated forgotten. I only wish my obliterrated sunshine could rise yet again but that would be like hoping for 90 degree weather in Alaska. The sun may rise again but it will never be warm enough to cascade into where things reach comfort. More of an uneasy chill. Nah. I would much prefer the dark of the moon. The sun can play her games with me another day.