Tag Archives: wanting peace

Hollywood Olympus

Cara’s picture, torn from a fashion magazine,

is laid carefully in the center of the pentacle.

White candles, white light.

The demons have come; it is night time.

There is no rain to wash them from the windows.

There chattering draws blood from my dreams.

Cara is an angel from Hollywood Olympus, up in blue sky.

I invoke her youth and lust and wild heart in this night.

I want to be alive and real again.

The demons drag dead bodies from my memory.

They mock the corpses in the harsh light.

They grow powerful from this grave robbery.

Cara, I draw peace from her flesh, blood of her soul.

I draw the air of Hollywood Olympus into my lungs,

Let glamour win the day!

Morning, finally rain, knocking on my window,

to let the moths into breed and die and become seeds,

Cara is here, with a knife, to rectify the balance.

The snatching of purity was worth it.

A Thousand Miles Distant

> I lay awake in bed, propped up on one arm, watching her sleep.
> She is dreaming, sighing, restless, but escaping from slow time.
> I lay down, lay my head to hers, so desperate to hear her thoughts.
> So desperate to close the distance, even touching, so we are one.
> The world out there is on fire, and the angels are not swooping in.
> We have our little place of solace, we have each other, we have love.
> But the flames of the world could come through, turn it all to ashes.
> Angels are not cavalry, but demons are eternal, unfeeling
> bushwhackers.
> In the morning, work and all that drudgery will be here, fill our day.
> I still can’t rest, find peace in the night, or in having her near, my
> own.
> I close my eyes, sigh, send a prayer to her, to that frantic dream
> world,
> that paradise may be ours one day, if not in this hollow, than in the
> life after.

A Face In The Sky

A pretty dream, a face in the sky, my love.

                              A pretty dream, the face turned, love lost.


                              This car isn’t much, but it goes fast enough.

                              The drink makes me numb, deathly quiet.


                              Let it end, by the sea, so I can disappear,

                              To the depths, the dark, the place perfect.


                              I let her down. I cannot win. The Devil will.

                              I’m tired of fighting myself. I’m tired of madness.


                              There he comes, flashing lights, coming for me.

                              I’ll make the right wrong move, and I’ll be gone.


                              Pulling over, one last pull, I can leave forever,

                              For the dark and warm place, that’s only silence.


Brie lives in my best dreams,
walking hand in hand, laughing,
the world wonderful and bright.
 She’ll dance and spin on her heels
and I’ll laugh and do it too, not a care.
Then we’ll run for no reason at all.
 Sit in the park, eating a lunch, talking,
and just innocent in the sun, simple things
making so happy and free.
 In the dark, after all the rage’s bled out,
after all the awful I do to my mind, my soul,
as I graps at any sort of peace, innocence.
 I dream this life with her, my dream girl,
my angel, my light in the pit of my heart,
where sex is loving, where love is kind.
 As the morning light comes, I dream of her,
sitting by the river, just perfect and still,
the light haloing her head.
 I think of her, lost in a fitful sleep.

Buried In The Sky

I once dreamed of an angel, who shone like a star.
She was light and warmth, I loved her more than anyone.
I could sleep beneath her wings when I was still a child.
I could call on her to hold my hand, and touch my soul.

But now, but now,

 She is the bones of the clouds, buried in the sky.
Pleasureless lust has replaced her with so many faces.
The wings are a relic of something lost, tossed to the night.
I am alone and love is something I sold off for a hit.
 But now, but now,
 Her pale lips cannot speak the name of god or tenderness.
And the night catches up with me, empty, the faces turned away.
I cannot return to the garden of my mind where she dwelled.
I can’t find another voice or another love that chases demons away.
 And now, and now,
 I just want to sleep, and be at peace, all quiet.