Poems 2010 by Kestral Volta (ereader iphone txt) 📕

Equality doesn’t exist.


Honour...
...is obsolete
Loyalty...
...is pointless
Freedom...
...doesn’t last forever
Kindness...
...is false
Happiness...
...is over-rated
Fear...
...is a state of mind
Betrayal...
...is a sign of friendship
Trust...
...is a threat
Knowledge...
...is power
Pain...
...is relief
Desperation...
...is a waste of energy
Evangelism...
...is a waste of time
Reality...
...is a fairytale
Equality...
...does not exist.


Gravity

Is it gravity that pulls me to his chest?
Or is it growing envy and greed?
Or is it the love I have for him,
That creates an ever growing need?

An ever growing need, an ever growing want!
Is this sin in my ashen black heart?
A very real vision clouding my mind,
Or is it a new form of art?

Surely the sin in my eyes,
Will son give me away,
Or will the love I have for him,
Cure him of his dismay?

Life is a question,
Love is a dream.
Nothing is ever,
What it actually seems.

Has fate shown me,
A new path to follow?
Or will the consequences,
Be too much to swallow?


Home.

My home is not here.
I live here, but my home is somewhere else.

My home is west,
Where the sea laps at clumps of sand,
Where wiry grass grows on the crests of dunes,
Where the majestic cliffs loom above the gentle ocean.

My home is small,
Where everyone is familiar and strangers are welcome,
Where tiny, sunbleached houses huddle in small groups,
Where communities are linked by nothing more than stony tracks,
Yet the bonds are strong.

My home is surrounded,
Surrounded by hills adorned by emerald evergreens,
Surrounded by murky rivers carrying heavy loads of litter and silt,
Surrounded by smog, daunting skyscrapers and noisy engines,
The siren of impending pollution.

My home is not here,
My home is where I was born.


Life is sacred

I sit alone, in front of the empty canvas,
My mind riffling through memories,
A dry brush in hand and tubes of unopened paint next to me.

In silence, I stare into the blankness,
The soft, gentle texture stares back,
The rythmatic ticking panics me.
I frantically chase memories like escaping animals,
Grasping at smoke:

The image of darkness gathering,
A young girl with black tattoos,
Black eyes and white fangs,
The soft trickle of deep scarlet,
Staining the collar of a white dress.
A long road, shadows creating a
Ceremonial dance of sacrifice,
Beneath a purple sky,
A hypnotic crescent moon,
Embedded in the folds of a silky black cloak.
A long silver dagger, a cloud of red,
A hunched figure from the heat,
Of the sunrise which burns the sky.
In visions of lilac wisps and rumours,
Of earthquakes, trails of fire,
And the long barrel before my eyes pulls,
Me down into its core.
Into the freezing numbness and the stone gates,
That separates the fire from the ice,
Life from death.
The sky rains with tears and blood,
The moonsoaked alleyways flood,
With hopelessness, faces filled with,
Despair stare across snowfields,
Towards sunbleached cities,
Unable to step out of Pandora’s Box,
And overcome insanity.

The canvas bores into me,
As I wet the brush red and,
With scratching strokes,
Take my inspiration and lay it before me,
On the canvas.

Eyes of blood in fields of white,
Among images of rank lakes and piles of rubble,
And corpses, members of cults,
And Greenpeace stand on mountains,
Angry expressions, on looking the devastation,
Staring down, snarls and ripping growls,
Shouts, yells and screams whisper the words,
“The whole world is fucked!”
Bodies fall from grey skyscrapers,
Souls escape the fate of the Earth,
Ravaged by envy and greed,
Other-worldly species look upon us with disdain,
The time-honoured tradition drowned in blood,
Suffocating in the shit we have committed.

The canvas fills up,
While evaporating as I create,
The future of earth before my,
Innocent eyes.

Life is, indeed, sacred.


Loneliness

It’ll make you repulse,
It’ll make you cry,
It’ll make you sicken,
It’ll make you die.

You can’t kill,
What isn’t there,
My heart is just,
Too dark to care.

Trails of fire,
Pools of blood,
You can’t hate,
Enough to love.

With a strangled hold,
On the air we breathe,
You slice and rip,
My heart from me.

If I’m alone I cannot hate,
Nor can I love my close fate.

Angels lie to keep control,
Your loneliness takes its toll.


No way out 2050

This day and age is not one that
Requires heart anymore.
Instead you have to be tough,
Play the fool and the fool gets killed.
But here, we’re governed by
Rules and regulations,
Overshadowed by the consequences,
Not only by people.
We can’t accept a higher being,
So we block it out with science.
Government is just another way
Of saying “Better that you”.
And then they insist that it’s a democracy,
A fascism you can vote for!
God gives us hope
So why don’t we use it?
But times have changed,
The poems get shallower,
Love is making room for greed.
“It’s just human nature” we sing,
Making excuses.
Poems have less structure,
Stripped of their rhythms and rhymes,
Deprived of everything that
Ever made it a poem!
But the people of today
Find it hard to distinguish between a
Well-structured poem and a song.
They worry more and more about
Tomorrow, too blind
To see yesterday.
We’ve come too far, it’s too late now.
There’s.
No.
Way.
Out.


Physics


Positive and negative,
Electrons fly,
A huge bolt of lightning,
From a stormy sky,
You build up a charge,
And leave it for dead,
The potential difference,
It’s too complicated!
It goes in one ear,
And out of the other,
I may not even have,
The will to bother!


Take me

Take my brain; I’ll think for you,
I’ll free you of your logic less nation.
Take my lungs; I’ll breathe for you,
I’ll free you of your suffocation.

Take my heart; I’ll feel for you,
I’ll save you from the darkness within,
Take my life; I’ll live for you,
You’ll be free and you’ll never give in!


Simple

Simple is...
What is simple?
Is it the subject that baffles complex minds?
Is it sitting on the floor, playing with a toy car?
Is it a geometrical shape?
Is it a single line, devoid of personality or character?
Is it a blank space, pure white?
Is it pealing back the wrapper on a chocolate bar?
Is it biting into a ham sandwich?
Is it pointing a gun at someone’s forehead?
Is it laughing at a dead insect?
Is it 2+2?
Is it space invaders or Pacman?
Or is it love?

But love is never simple.
Nothing is ever simple.
Simple is too complicated.


Unrequited

Life is sacred,
Love is rare,
You can’t love
What isn’t there.

You look at me,
I turn away,
You search for me,
In the light of day.

In the shadows of night,
You try to hide,
But there’s no escaping,
The hostility in my eyes.


Values

When life is lost,
And hope is dead,
When you feel pain,
And then you see red,
You think life’s over,
But it’s only just begun,
So venture forth,
And have some fun,
You sit silent in a car,
Waiting to pull the throttle,
You sit staring vacant at an,
Empty vodka bottle,
You have your demons,
You hate your curse,
But many other people,
Have it much worse,
You see all those people,
Happy and loud,
But over your head,
Hangs a huge rain cloud,
So try to move on,
I have to implore,
Because life is a question,
You just can’t ignore.

Publication Date: 05-24-2011

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