Friday, June 5, 2009

Joe Ballard (Word count 633)

Spoke with my memories last night
Told them to stop raising their voices
Like an uprising against a dictator
Haunting me like a walking tree ghost
Casting its thin shadow upon a sunny nightmare
They said we are controlled by one thing
Like you, we age and slowly wither away
With each breath from father time
We are the true ghosts,
The ones you can’t prove exist
But are sitting in the front row
And I asked them
Are there green-eyed vampires too
In this waltz?
Hand in hand they go
Left, right, left, turn
Free to be themselves
Without want
Or thought
Or wishing
For a change in the bloodthirsty atmosphere

Hell’s bathroom. Atom brick. Gregarious toy. Ash blowfish.

Have the records put into place
They must be ready to shout
For the heavens when he walks on stage
The most terrifying glances cast across
A troubled beach with sweltering magnets
Hope you bought your upstairs ticket,
With a worsening withering world
They’ll be selling out quicker than
Glistening fireballs on the subway tailgate
Get into space, be ready for the cross
So you can finish, become a hero
Mythical to the others
Hated by the old and the jealous
Retrieve the trinket and fall
Into a false validity and rise
Into a true insanity of blanket rain

Pretty luck. Tongue wire. Awkward desecration. Reflection affliction.
The smile
An addiction
An expression
A charm
A measure of time
The mask
A shade
A protection
A mystery
A hidden
The face
A novel
A plight
A day
A night

As I make my plans to continue this game,
I consider the irony that I don’t know your name.
Hoping the pluck the feather to gain a little fame,
When baby feathers show you’ll know who to blame.

Scarlet affair
As cities burn
Tears for fears
You, me, and everyone we know
On the receiving end of sirens
The dear hunter
Track Lydia
Billy Talent
Is under oath
At madina lake
Alive in wild paint
Classic case
The beautiful mistake
Letters kill
Nightmare of you
Funeral for a friend
Saves the day
Brand new

In shallow seas I’ll sail
Glass handed to the kites
The bridge is falling up
From thirteen stones
Fact and fiction
Forget what you know
Finished being cool
How to translate the name-
Light the matches
Let the hand of fire snatch
Let it mold you
Don’t fight it
Cause you’ll just burn
Don’t wanna go to hell?
Take a bucket of water with you

Video shorts. Grinder monkeys. Head heels. Ecstasy frame.

When red angry cardinal starts to cry
Like she means it,
Tell her he was drawn too pretty
Making her acting a world of the petty

Let her flash the silver wings on air,
Feeling good only lasts so long
Birds can’t fly when the tide breathes its song
She’ll drown so far she might learn prayer.

Cheese popsicle. Laughing palm. Wall movements. Calling cards.

I like to play hearts
(not just the computer game)
because you don’t know what will come out
You have to play and observe
What choices others make
Round and round you go
Hoping to get hold of what you want
A little luck, a little skill
A family feud
Or two
Or a thousand
Many times you lose
End up playing solitaire
Temporary failure
Remember what you know
Pump the tires
For round insert number
Eventually you win
There’s no better song
Than one with a victory dance
There’s no better sight
Than beating hearts rising

Sorry there are no translations here, I tried a couple of sites and found my results to be incredibly confusing and frustrating. I couldn’t post something I didn’t believe in and didn’t love.

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