ah,
the inability to write poetry
when you find yourself happy

There are no right answers.
The sky rejects the birds, turns them
over to gravity,
embedding them in the concrete and dirt.
The grit refuses to become a pearl,
just as the wound refuses to heal
and the flesh eats itself.
The market sees a sudden spike in
sales of Champagne and cyanide.
Coordinated efforts seek and fail
to curtail the rising tide of violence
in the nation's dreaming.
You realise that this crude, barbaric language
that you can't understand
is your own.
Beauty glitches and pixelates.
Frightened, furtive confessions of love
are unheard over proud, visceral
proclamations of hate.
Tongues divorce mouths.
Every now and then, a voice
inside your head says,
'Thud.'
The measures of sanity become
more quantifiable and
totally arbitrary.
The horizon
tightens
like
a noose.

It doesn't matter if this is wrong.
There are no right answers.

Chewie hasn’t touched his food
I hope he’ll be o.k..
It hasn’t been the same for him
Since Leia passed away.

He’s a melancholy Wookie
as anyone can see.
He mopes around the ship all day
And he’s molting terribly

Twas bad enough when Obi-wan
was struck down by Darth Vader.
But it’s no surprise when an old man dies
That’s expected, now or later.

Our Princess was a force you see
Bringing gales of laughter
which is why we want her here
and not in the hereafter.

He’s a melancholy Wookie
as anyone can see.
He mopes around the ship all day
And he’s molting terribly.


I hope one day we’ll meet again
In Mos Eisley’s Cantina
That gold bikini may not fit
But we’d still be glad to see her.

Today started out to be such a beautiful day
No care in the world everything was at bay

I kept myself busy with cooking and cleaning
Even felt like dancing to some Prince, I did some of his spinning

Then out of nowhere
I was knocked dead on my **** in less than I could take a breathe

Sat down and then it really hit me
The demons skipped me last night those creeps

And they've come to get me on this once was a gorgeous day
Why now what would've been the harm to just let one day go by

I begin to get pain and debris swishing in my head
It's so loud I can't even hear myself plead

Oh crap am I even breathing
Is it time to go now I heard yes for the time being

Knowing that would be just to easy for them
These demons want me to live so they can torture me

As if I was the walking dead
The loud noises in my head are so disturbingly embedded

I try not to let them in
As I've said before they do hold the master key made out of skin

So now my beautiful day will be spent in psychosomatic pain
Trying to clean out the demons in my attic post-traumatic

.
With this tarnished love I do
paint the world with darker hue,
and rise 'pon no light restraint
with shadow clouds for me to taint.

So ride black mood and flee away
torture me not for another day.
Begone! Be banished, leave no trace
release my heart to a better place.

Fate may bring wither she will
a new adventure, my love to thrill,
so permit this curtain call be seen
as my epitaph to a broken dream.


© Pagan Paul (2017)

The Sun stood still
Burning the people underneath
Making them lifeless
And now, all is but a silence

                                 Except me,

There’s a noise inside my head
Making my heart beat steadfast
And the heat of the sun couldn’t make it stop,
Too loud and too strong to take my life.