Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Dead Batteries Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Sunday 1/10/2010 01:18:00 AM

The influence of occasional villains. Plays softly upon the heroics of the victims. Burnt lips taste the sweet in the vinegar and the sour in the chocolate. The dark arriving in hiccups. Exiting in cancers.

Red balls. Choking down the stairwell. In alphabets of how. This chase has taken me so far from what I sought. The resonance. Eyes blinking. The obvious. Of falling. Still unclear.

Misplaced skin on the board. Kings cowering behind their castles. The bishop and the queen conspiring in summers that never existed. Commotion. Sentimental dolls crying over the poison under their nails.

Graves. Iridescent funerals. Passing through her grin. Bars. Empty tables. Passing for if. This impotent rubber band were real. And I could release it.

Break the pattern.

Listen to that same old song as if I'd never heard it before. At last touch the mask that keeps us apart.

Blame the stars. For taking too long for their light reach us.


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