Dcid Corvid

Villanelle 1

June 1, 2015June 1, 2015 by sidcorvid

It is my dream that I end in fire.
If only for fear of the forlorn,
Dying without hope or desire.

Having never been a liar,
This claim I won’t adorn.
It is my dream that I end in fire.

I’m nothing, yet, to admire,
But, ‘til the end, I refuse the scorn
Of dying without hope or desire.

My body will someday tire,
It’s then I’ll be set alight, already well-worn.
It is then that I’ll end in fire.

Peace and calm are a myth of the prior,
See Christ, with his crown of thorn
Who died without hope, or desire.

With pounding heart, I know what I require.
Since the hour that I was born,
I have dreamt that I would end in fire,
Free today from hope or desire.

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During this Call to Arms

May 2, 2015 by sidcorvid

During this call to arms,
This duty in an age of arms,
I cherish this moment
Of being held, deeply, in your arms.

Your quivering body holding me,
Words escaping me,
We know what tomorrow may bring,
That a bullet may just find me.

Know that if one does,
My dying memory will be in your arms,
Knowing we are one of soul.

Smile that you’ll have loved a hero.
Know that your love, here,
Smiling, gave me final comfort.

In this call to arms,
I see that you love me.
Knowing my sacrifice is not in vain.
Smiling to still your pounding heart.

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Let the order be handed down

May 2, 2015May 2, 2015 by sidcorvid

Let the order be handed down,
Let the world know
That the traitor, this terror,
Is bound to be bound and burned.

For his crimes of neglect,
For his crime of betrayal,
Friends must forget forgiveness,
Kin can’t console the killer.

Dress him in the finest garb,
Dress him as a martyred hero,
For the finest of flattery
Makes the most morose mockery.

Set a torch under his aching feet.
Set a fire in the hearts of none.
Time won’t tarnish thought
Of fiends freely forgotten.

Haven’t posted recently, but I’ll be updating more often in the near future. Thank you for Reading!

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A Porcelain Doll

March 31, 2015 by sidcorvid

A porcelain doll,
So soft in complexion.
In her confidence
I place my greatest failings.

She doesn’t know
That she is my refuge.

I prefer to listen, though,
To the silence of her
Trials and tribulations.
A peace is found here.

How could a mere man
Craft such a divinity?

Why would I place such faith
In a relic of what should have been?
How can her dark eyes
Force such a devotion?

I ask without rhetoric.
I have found an answer.

Such art must be cherished.

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Be a Man!

March 23, 2015 by sidcorvid

I recognize that every breath is a fight,
Gagging on your own blood and all,
But you just gotta hold on.

You’re not done fighting yet.
Open your fuckin’ eyes!
Look at me, you pussy!
You’re not going to die in my arms.

Don’t make me tell your family
All that horseshit about
Memories being timeless
And you, now, living in them.

Be a man!
Suck it up!
Wake up.

It’s too late, though, isn’t it?
Your lips are blue, body stiff.
Please wake up,
Don’t do this to me.

Where’s the poetry in this?
There’s no beauty here.
Why do the birds keep singing,
Serenading this tragedy?

Why would you do this to me?
Why would you rest
When there’s still so much for us to do?

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A note for the love of my youth

March 23, 2015 by sidcorvid

So this is something different. I’m sending a copy of my book to a person who holds a very special spot in my heart. I wrote a note on the inside cover, and thought I’d share it, with some modifications to prevent revealing her identity.

*******,
What has it been? 8 years now? It’s been 8 years since I started loving you, and there’s no end for this affection in the foreseeable future. If I’m Yeats, you’re Gonne. The thing is, though, I know that a we won’t ever be, and I’m alright with that. We’ve grown into two very different people, and I’d be an idiot to think you and I could ever go back to our inability to spend a day without speaking to the other. I’m alright with that. You’ve been one of the most transforming forces of my life, and you’ve helped make me, me. You’ve forced the evolution that created who I am today. A lot of the poems in this book were written for you, and I’ll let you find them. I hope you like the book.

Thank you.
With Love,
Paulie

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Pain

March 22, 2015 by sidcorvid

Gasping for my next breath,
Grunting with the thrust of the needle,
I become slightly more of a man.

Panic, a fear of the imminent moment,
Had subsided, disappeared under searing pain.

My body rigid and teeth embedded in my lip,
The pain does not seem to end.
On retrospection, I did not realize
How long two seconds could last.

Taking it slow now, numbing instead of stabbing,
I recognize that the worst was over.
I fucking made it, euphoria increasing with inhalations.
Now to try this shit out.

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Modern Cowboy

March 11, 2015 by sidcorvid

Living his life by morals taught
By old country songs,
He knows when to hold ’em,
And he sure as hell knows when to fold ’em.

He knows that life is not easy for a boy named Sue,
But he craves that freedom only sung.

Still, though, having never sat on a horse,
He imagines himself a cowboy.
In blue jeans and boots,
He sits with a gun on his hip.

Sipping his whiskey,
He smokes mentholated cigarettes.

He’ll never shoot a man in Reno,
Wanting to watch him die.
Instead he’ll watch True Grit,
Again, and again and again.

Deep down, he knows that it’s
A death bed that’ll get him,
Not a dueling six-shooter.

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In a momentary moment of silence

March 7, 2015 by sidcorvid

In a momentary moment of silence,
A train bellows in the background,
Easing the pain
Of a momentary moment of silence.

I hate that I don’t, any longer,
Long to vagabond about CONUS,
Dreaming of a future undetermined.

I have a line now,
So very far removed from heroism,
Pride, so long gone.
I have a line now.

I’m on a nonstop west,
To jump is simply not worth the risk.
I’ll soon be a far cry from home.

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Burnt to Hell… Just wanna call home…

March 6, 2015March 6, 2015 by sidcorvid

I’m updating my Facebook with different poems than I am posting here. If you like what you are reading, you can find my page HERE

Burnt to hell,
This song has me wanting
To make a call home.

I just want to ring up mum,
To See how brother is growing,
To See if sister has met a boy.

I want to sit and watch tv
While brother shoots his plastic guns
And sister frets over makeup before a dance.
Mama is with sister, fixing hair.

It’ll be peace,
With cat purring on my lap,
And birds chirping from their cage.
Everything will be alright.

But, oh forlorn hope,
I’m here, and I’m burnt
And this song won’t end.