Tag: about the author

Villanelle 1

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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A note for the love of my youth

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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Or my book
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Modern Cowboy

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.

As always, I hope you enjoyed! If you did, check out my Facebook Page

Also, check out my book!
Support independent publishing: Buy this book on Lulu.

Burnt to Hell… Just wanna call home…

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.

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In search of dominance

by sidcorvid

With stomach achingly empty,

And eyes heavy with not-quite drowsiness,

He recognizes his momentary impotence.

“To gain, once more, an upper hand,

We watch him climb.

Pulling himself towards superiority

With ropes of stimulants and faux confidence.

“They will break, as they always do.

It’s then we will see him fall,

Grasping at any and every thing.

“Let him, watch him die.

He’s not of the breed to survive.

Let’s hope him to fail,

He cannot be allowed to survive.

“What we’re watching thinks his self a god,

In days past, we’d have crucified him

For his crimes of pandering.”

Exhaling dominance with each inhale of hatred,

He gains foothold after foothold,

Staving off exhaustion with drive.

In reaching the peak, he will then watch them fall.

It’s been awhile, Book (update)

by sidcorvid

So, some updates.

I haven’t been posting recently, school has been crazy and writing has been hit or miss. I’ve also been putting a lot of work into publishing my first collection of poetry.

The collection is titled Sins and Serenity, and is a selection of some of my favorite pieces of the last year or two. It’s in the final stages, I’m just waiting to receive my proof copy, after which I will make it available for sale. I will post the information on how to get a copy when it is completed.

I’ll follow this post with a new poem, thank you all for reading!

Paulie

i wish i could wiggle my arms

by sidcorvid

I wish I could wiggle my arms
under this boundless sky.

I’m lost in transcendent drunkenness,
a fool with a mind.
Synapses firing with alcoholic fervor,
I lie motionless.

The cigarette ashes on my cheek
As I puff with my eyes closed,
But not for too long.

I must stop the dark from spinning.

Wandering and wondering in wanderlust,
I hope we last forever.
I wish you were here now.

But C’est la Vie!
I’ll make do,
and I’ll make do
in accompanied solitude soon.

I see double as autocorrect corrects.
I close my eyes as the sky shuffles.
I fade to black, wondering what tonight will hold.

Flashback

by sidcorvid

Flashback

The thrill of penetrating,
The power you feel
As you tear open someone’s soul.
Someone blank,
Someone who blankets themselves in false security,
Someone who can be cracked open.
The pure joy you feel
As this person confides in you,
And you know:
You are their confidant,
Their friend,
Their Witness.
You witnessed the Messiah within,
Peaking out to see the world about.
You formed an elastic bond,
One that will not break.