AmidstA glass of barrack sat on the table before Harangozó Konrad. Beside it were his two previous glasses, emptied of their contents entirely. His table faced the window and the October rain slowly dripped down it without speed as to be satisfying. The bar he was in was not quiet but no conversation or drinks being poured penetrated his consciousness. To say he was hunched over his drink, nursing it, would be exactly correct.
The day had echoed with every other day he spent in Budapest. No matter how much the streets were wandered, they never grew more pleasant to him. He had been freed of the shackles of working by the murder of his mother, an executive in an industrial equipment firm, and the subsequent death of his father, who gave up on the struggle against disease and despair with the loss of his spouse. This freedom, however, did not afford him the benefits that many desired – it did not impress him that he could acquire any material good he wished, or spend the day however he
Symphony: 3rd - StunnedNymphly Syzygy</b>Symphony: 3rd - Stunned7 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
First Violins: (The love that dare not not speak its name).
Thunder and darkness,
As sudden as a moment’s comfort,
Have thy will, shy mutual flame,
I saw it.
Second Violins: Unasked, unasked,
The lines were made
‘Tween eye and eye,
I and thee,
Engross’d and lost in this nymphly syzygy.
Pianoforte, First Violins, Second Violins, Violas: (The love that dare not leave its name unspoken,
This love so precious, potentate in that I am thine).
The conjunction above the overcome moon,
Caelus, Saturnus, Tellus,
Trapped in godly syzygy
Fain whisper in mine ear this lyric:
She that thou dost
Meet in instants when all that is other
Is a world apart
And yet do not realise any further meaning
Flutes: For thou hast a private jest
See, this morrow, those days are yest,
Whereupon thou shalt, had thou not have guessed,
Take weeks to mull,
And only by intercession delivered
From resistance proffered
Against that which might only b
Symphony: 2nd - StasisOn Rue de Comte St Germain, we ran to MontrealSymphony: 2nd - Stasis7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Violas, Snare Drum, Flutes, Trumpets: We were trying to kill
An immortal man
To steal the secrets of the Comte.
For so long mystics, we had meditated
Upon elongating our humanity for so
That to shadow him from his visitation,
Then take up full pursuit,
Not sure whether we ran in the realm of man or the realm beyond,
We felt our victory approach.
Tubas, Timpani: The liars of the occult
Claimed to have met him,
Conveniently implying that he didn’t exist,
He greeted those who would guard him from us gladly:
We followed different secrets.
Vibraphone, Violas (pizzicato): Be fully aware,
That there are volumes filled with answers
Hidden in baked-clay, stone-bound repositories,
Forms, dynasties and incantations
The location of the Lake of Clear Water,
Or the mystery of man,
Even in these tomes, where we learnt
In partnership, all of our ways,
There were but hints of the Comte St Germain.
TMS-ChiaroscuroTMS-Chiaroscuro7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
On the threshold of day,
The delineating line between light and darkness,
Where twilight ripples across the stilled landscape
And an imperceptible chill rises up.
[The battlefield is expected to be more chaotic.]
With subtlety, the bleakest of every breed of despair
Lives alongside the potential for
The border crosses.
Dark emptiness reigns;
A sign on the arms-reach horizon:
The million bright ambassadors of morning;
The million bright ambassadors are dawning.
Lights sparkle at the joining of day and night,
Barrenness and wholeness,
[There is a reason
There is a purpose]
These beams which could not shine,
Save in chiaroscuro,
Where side by side the presence and the absence are.
The darkness brings weeping
Weeping scours the heart and face alike
That the light is made clear.
The maker of fate paints with chiaroscuro.
Unreleased: QuarterstaffUnreleased: Quarterstaff7 years ago in Other More Like This
I watch them clash, serrated
They are serene in their speed,
Though if I could not see true nature
The blows of their quarterstaffs would be beyond my perception.
I once imagined them fighting,
Fighting for me,
And for my hand, though we might already be more than united
This time, the combatants are real.
'my way stands not in contradiction to yours
but in motivation.'
The counter meets it -
The bladed staves like lovers who never fail to kiss at the lips
'it is precisely a question of motivation.'
These warriors, to they I am incidental,
Speak no more of me and my deliberation,
Tell instead of this battle.
Their arms arche just to hold these weapons -
They are both burdens of sorrow and device,
But wielded with the true determination of men made by their armament.
The oaken staffs are too thick, too dense,
Fully articulated from the beginning,
To be cut by the shimmering razor edges
They knew all along that this was how it had to be
And that they will both die together
SynaxariumSynaxarium8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And it is thus that the martyrs are collected
Two-thirds up a tower-block,
An inside flat with no view of the sun
There is a child who has never had recourse to walk.
One more week.
For joy to turn to turn
A smiled face; the Paradox.
Those who will be noted first
Have had the joy ripped from their centre.
So let us be the first to put our names and natures upon the list
To mark the deathdate as today.
And a host of nameless souls shall find themselves
And log in the book;
Purist, NaturistPurist, Naturist7 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
When it comes down to it, it’s about relationships. The connections between people are more important than nations. Maybe that’s what I fought for, not so many years ago. But it wasn’t about soldiers in a guerrilla war, it was just me and him, the Naturist and the Purist. We are the war and we the catastrophe, and only one of us could win.
It wasn’t me. I would laugh if it wasn’t bitter on my lips, that defeated, at risk of whatever fate was offered to those who had lost, the rumoured hell, the anathema, that I was back in Paris. This time, it wasn’t Mahmud Demirel and Rafi Ali, two brothers together in a strange and hostile land, fleeing the same persecution. It was just me, Rafi, abandoned underground, trapped in the bowels of a city that had never loved me and was now essentially my tomb, though I might have many years to wait. I ought to be thankful for this refuge, but truthfully I’ve never considered myself blessed. That&
TMS-WintersongTMS-Wintersong7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
In the latency, in the nascent
I'll break down in the Wintersong.
Fog fills up the lungs with the taste
Of happiest sorrow;
Ive never felt peace that doesnt taste like this.
The air crispens as he passes
Because I shiver at the Presence and I tremble in the cold.
My archipelago of childhood memories
Is a submerged continent
The sea temperature tumbling,
Still the feeling of this frigid bliss crossing my lips
Has been there always,
Stern as winter,
Through the unfallen snow lie the footsteps of an
Unimaginable God and his fragile adoptive son.
In War there is no symmetryIn War there is no symmetry10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She bursts forth from the trenches
Her bayoneted rifle firing bursts of death
She cannot be more than fourteen
But the war has come
It's time to kill or die.
A master general, studying the poetry
Of troop movements, and artillery strikes
Knows where to send his troops
So they can die for the cause
And be hailed as heroes, not murderers.
The pilot of this plane
is losing control, his Napalm payload
may or may not be hitting the 'Cong below
His mind (and his commander) shrieks "burn the trees!"
the trees are but ash.
In War, there is no symmetry,
no beautiful dance of life and death
no heroes or victors; all there is
is mud, blood, fire
Muse Song Titles.Showbiz: Fail to show you're out of business.Muse Song Titles.7 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
Your skin is red with a painful sunburn that seems to want to last forever. It has been overexposed to the neon lights that insistently buzz above you as your day's hours slip by silently. You'd like to turn them all off, those wretched lights. You remember that soft yellow light that used to caress your young face as you sat reading a book filled with fairy tales. But those days are long gone. You have no time left to dream, you read only news, reports and bills, and the neon lights have infiltrated all your rooms. They save energy. They save energy and don't waste it. But what of your energy? They have drained yours. They feed on yours.
Your muscles feel sore and stiff because each day you repeat the same gestures. You sit. You reach. You type. You type. You check the time. You shake cold hands. You rub your eyes. You can't reverse the effects, your musc
TMS-The Prophecy FulfilledTMS-The Prophecy Fulfilled6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Looking back across the years
Having nothing to hold in the present,
Draws one to look back in longing.
Perspective of the past shifts from what it ought to be
Instead of seeing legacy, one sees halcyon days
That are gone.
Looking back across the years
We've had joy, we've had tears.
I cant help but cry in this telephone conversation,
I cant help but anything, because Ive not the last jot of strength.
Tears stream and my voice cracks more
Than the weak signal of my fathers voice,
And he says
I want to run to you right now.
But he doesnt just give words of desperation,
He gives words of the Word.
And its in this moment that the prophecy is fulfilled.
Not a triumph of strength, not a powerful,
The armour is first and foremost to stand.
Before my eyes as my father tells of the Armour of God,
I see myself, clothed in golden armour,
Like the Helm of Hador,
Know that Ive not
Fallen.Fallen.9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Who can say if we have fallen?
The morning's calling angel tears
to frost drenched shadows.
A black jewel caws in a tree.
Divide my senses, deny eternity.
I see a dying world in garments
of my innocence.
Darling, you abide in regret
as bred beyond the scenes
of your life. Yet,
who can tell if we have fallen?
WMD-HaitiWMD-Haiti7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
On the shores of the destitute isle,
Gasping on salt-water
That sickens and thus refreshes,
Drast pants and slumps.
His stolen freighter has found no port,
It stirs, as beached as he is,
Clutching at purpose when the hell
Has broken forth.
Had taken hold of this land,
And new waves of bloodshed and poverty
Those deeds that he hated, hates,
Have surmounted the island of Hispaniola.
Even as broken as this,
Lurching and stumbling,
His voice is loud enough to call
To flee to his staked-claim-shore,
Clamber desperately and with great thanks upon the ship,
Whilst his fearsome visage,
Once called the Face of Fear,
Holds back the marauding troops.
A new feeling seizes him, standing there,
Exhausted and barely still believing in his cause:
In that heart turned aflame by hatred,
The seams undo and the compassion that by mastery too weak for conquest
Had sent that hatred to destroy worthy enemies,
Sloshes, ungainly in its newborn movement
Cover Version: He WishesIf I had the treasures of the hidden heavens,Cover Version: He Wishes7 years ago in Other More Like This
Their silken spirit, their whipped-up cloud,
Forged by light itself (imbued with all colour)
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
All of the drapes of the sky,
Twilight through the blue that lets the stars speak,
The clothes of dawn, the diadem of the moon
If I had them, then I'd pull them down
To place beneath your feet, love, as you deserve:
Yet I, so poor of spirit, so lacklove,
All I have are dreams (not stolen from kings, but merely my own);
So in the stead of the heavenly velvet, I lay down these,
For your path.
Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.
if i had words to tell youone million one.if i had words to tell you5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
at this moment i am mentally retracing the steps back to your door. it's been thirty seconds, and i feel like it's been days. i never knew what it was like to miss somebody until this very moment. i want to go home to your arms, where i left my heart.
one million two.
right now i am in disbelief. i never thought i could want something as much as i want you. i took one too many steps and now i don't know what to do.
one million three.
at this point i am pulling out my hair and sinking my nails into the palms of my hand.
i'm not listening to you strangers anymore. i know what i want.
one million four.
it's three seconds past heartbreak and four hours past confusion. and suddenly, i don't know how anything started.
one million five.
i counted all the stars in the sky tonight. i named everyone after you, because you seem to be the brightest thing in my world lately.
it's a million and five moments past amazing, and i can't breathe.
Heaven is Hell Without YouHer smile was a sure thingHeaven is Hell Without You7 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
A never fading, special something
She had a way about her
So sure of everything
She was my reason for waking up
My only dream when I'd sleep
Her eyes told the world her secrets
But she hid her pain underneath
What I wouldn't give to hear her voice
See her one more time
I'd walk through broken glass
to keep you here tonight
Her smiles a ghost
My personal poltergeist
Her laugh hid everything
All the secrets keep me awake tonight
I hear her voice
Everywhere I go
I just hope she knows I love her
I hope she knows
She had me from day one
Wrapped around her finger
Hangin' on her everword
Didn't see past this paradise
But she had plans of her own accord
I'd call just to hear her voice
And keep her close to me
But she panicked, choked, that's what I'm told
Said it was over, had to set me free, that was her choice
Hung up the phone and set free her own soul
Now I'm left with your memory
Her smiles a ghost
My personal poltergeist
Her laugh hid everything
Love SongOh, if I lent my light to the stars, could you then find your way?Love Song7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
With the waves crashing at a romantic pace, tell me: will we
See beauty throughout our infinite resolution, or is this just my delusion?
Could the magic last long enough for me to see nature in your eyes?
I have dreamed of silver rain and mountain panes, but yet I seem
To stay stranded at the peak I have come so far to uphold
Maybe if I wrote you a love song, the melodies would win your heart;
Oh, and then my lasting lyrics would defy fate and pull it apart
And then mend our connection into something better and pure
InAVoiceSoSoftItNeverWasHeardInAVoiceSoSoftItNeverWasHeard11 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Daydreaming as I do, sinking, blushing in my bed alone
with phantom embraces and vaporous liaisons,
never at full grips with your absence but gladly in your desire;
I whisper "God" because I found her in you.
Unstable hours mount, dedicated to you;
so do I count our instances one by lonely one.
I spend these days on you and I alone
and purchase many nights in solitary.
I've spoken all my written words,
wrapped finely, tuned to our inevitable song.
And though a pallid star could be everything I am
I burn most insatiably, uncontrollably, when I am burning for you.
To catch the future in your eyes,
pensive fantasy must never realize
the tear blurred rays come from infant dreams,
of newborn plans and undeveloped things.
And I can only cradle thorns so sharp.
I can only give to you what, in giving, I do not
sever fragile threads that guide,
or pick apart the flower in which my love has now confide.
I'll curtail you as your wander-lust
pulls you ever from my side,
dodging my love as awkward
Save MeAs I sit there,Save Me9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I try not to cry,
I am sick and tired,
Of all this pain,
Moreover, I wonder,
When the blows will stop.
He has hit me before,
I know this to be true,
But never like this,
This is too much to bear,
One blow I can handle,
His hand lashes out,
Catches me off guard,
I did not expect the four,
He usually only does one,
Moreover, four to the head,
Him I will never love.
Do not touch me now,
Away from anyone I will flinch,
I show no bruises,
For I do not bruise easily,
However, I still carry the hurt,
And wish I could be free.
Save me from this madness.
I am a fallen angel,
Wishing to fly again.
Help me fly,
Fly far away.
Save me from my pain.
I am so alone.