Ace Of Black Hearts
The butcher is back.
With words to slaughter.
And emotions to totter.
A cradle the rocks way to hard.
A lullaby that absolutely sucks.
A thumb placed in a hot apple pie.
Not a single flinch, as the skins boils and singes.
What is pain if not in our heads?
I can already visualized the dread.
Here's a pledge, a salute straight off edge.
Screaming now, now like the current present isn't good enough.
Anger twisted and redirected in every which way.
Dull razor ran up and down.
The damage is not immediate.
Can you not hear the fading internal heart beat.
Slower, and quieter, till there is this where did go?
I just don't know.
Dreaming through the greatest horror flick.
Someone was bashing in his head with a stick and I missed it.
The absence of ghosts in appearances.
The sex was good.
But the drugs were better.
Walking with angels among the sand.
If only death was truly so eloquent.
Seizures vibrating right through.
There is no saving him.
Just another causality of dying romance.
And tonight I dance, twisting and turning every which way.
For just a single glimpse.
Something not yet seen, not yet felt.
Standing in the mirror to have peek on what is on the other side.
A second dimension both limited in scope, measurements.
Give me my final drink.
Give me my final blink.
Leave me rest on the brink.
With flavors so distinct.
Traveling to an unknown rainforest with creatures of all kinds not of the this world.
Visions that swirl and become but golden pearls.
This is what it could be, this is what it could mean.
Making sense of that which rattles the soul beyond this life.
A birthday cake carved with the perfect knife.
Shapes, sizes and patterns easily devised.
Memories of flashing lights.
Waking up to a duller sight.
Trying recapture it with all my might.
Ace Of Black Hearts's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Butchered Dreams by Ace Of Black Hearts )
- In Living Memory (11-22-63), John F. McCullagh
- Music, Fatima Nusairat
- what swanky sap is this?, Mandolyn ...
- Natural, David Chap Bottoms
- I end poem, hasmukh amathalal
- here's my armadillo, now get me a pillow.., Mandolyn ...
- A, Vera Sidhwa
- With her ability, hasmukh amathalal
- Inhuman way, hasmukh amathalal
- THERE IS…, michael walkerjohn
Poem of the Day
- 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Farewell Love and All Thy Laws Forever, Sir Thomas Wyatt
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- And Death Shall Have No Dominion, Dylan Thomas
- A Dream Within A Dream, Edgar Allan Poe
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
William Carlos Williams
(17 September 1883 – 4 March 1963)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
- Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)