Tag: Sid

A Porcelain Doll

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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Is there a rhyme to this?

by sidcorvid

Is there a rhyme to this?
Falling into Theta
With the taste of Xanax in my throat?
I just need another smoke.

I don’t know what I want anymore,
I barely remember my name some days.
Still I’ll stress over the small things.

I’ll still worry about the evanescent manner of your affection,
The calories in my dinner,
The increased rate of my suicidal ideations.

Shit, did I just miss my exit?
Someday I’ll reach the shore,
Maybe drown myself in the ocean,

And embrace the cold embrace of the winter tide.

But that’s thinking too far down the road,

Right now, I’ve just got to get home
Where there’s still scotch in the bottle.

I must beg pardon

by sidcorvid

I catch your glances,

Your eyes meeting mine

And shooting away again.

I see you.

Of course,

I see them during stares of my own.

Who could take their eyes off you?

Not me, not now.

But you must forgive me,

This is a dream of a path never taken.

I must beg pardon,

This is a memory I don’t know.

But I do know now,

And that my happiness in you

Is (wistfully) reciprocated.

Overpowered

by sidcorvid

Overpowered by the Lips,

I lie here breathing,

staring at the ceiling,

Wishing the fan was pointed in my direction.

Overpowered by her lips,

I lie here thinking, romanticizing

Wishing she was struggling with me for the sheets.

How could she love me, though?

I’m broke on a broken computer,

And my room is a mess.

I dribbled piss on my boxers.

Embracing the safety of a bedspread tent

I sink further into the bed,

Knowing if I want change, I must effect change.

But it can wait, just a bit longer.

Let’s just lie here, only for a bit longer.

my existence offending

by sidcorvid

My existence offending,
With every breath of smoke
Which is taken alone,
I march forward.

Fire erupts from the candles at the wake.
A man lies waste deep
Not ready to be interred.

Yet the birds still sing
O’er a body cut down
By Smith & Wesson’s
Newest thresher.

A miracle occurred today,
He has proven something,
If only for himself.

He has become an Ozymandias,
A king of the dead to be forgotten.
The works of his dying hands
Mattered only to his fleeing soul.

The triumphs of loves won
And the woes of years of defeat,
Are but memories forgotten.

I need to update so have an old one

by sidcorvid

Bloody ‘ell Jasmine!
A free write and a Facebook post?
A poem up Mishter Lusk’s alley!

Or was that Saucey Jacky’s alley!?
Ha, I’m not crazy like that!
I’m just as fun, but without the gore!

This is how one fuckin’ does it!
You write from the bloody heart,
Maybe steal one or two while you’re at it!

He must’ve been a helluva guy,
For Miss Kelly to give her’s so freely.
I’ll never get why ladies like the shag.

But that’s neither here nor there,
This poem’s about me!
It’s about time someone wrote for Paulie!

Ole Sid’s got his back,
Feeding him some grand delusions,
What’s the difference either way?

Let him be great,
Or let him spill some krovvy tryin’.
It’s cheap, plenty to go around.

Now listen to me being morbid!
God forbid!
Back on track, right oh, right on!

I’ll get on up there,
Somewhere high above you plebes,
And when you beg,

I’ll smile and say, ‘no.’
Not exactly, but I won’t do much.
Alright, I’ll save the world with me.

Dammit,
It is what it is,
I wish I was a bird.

I am what happens

by sidcorvid

I am what happens.
Whatever I’ve become,
And where I go, transforming,
I am a product.

Imperialistic in breathing,
I expect to end as all the greats do,
Invaded, perverted and in a puddle of vomit.

I am the Holy Roman Empire,
Something to fear, my very existence.
With existential crises crashing,
I can be… unpredictable.
A Caligula.

Angry, I will sleep.
Accosted, I will sleep.
Ashamed, I will sleep,

And maybe when I wake,
It’ll be worth it.

“Lot’s of self defeat in that one…”

by sidcorvid

Right?

A burn, a passion.

Circles, in fields of black and White Snake,

A symptom of being at a loss.

 

Screaming through my chest,

I shout until my throat hurts.

“It’s not going to get better, is it?”

 

I’m no Pierce Brosnan,

Barely a Roger Moore,

Definitely not a Danny Boy.

 

Searching for a sortie,

HPPD, here I come.

I don’t want to live to thirty,

But only the good die young.

Ahhhhhh

by sidcorvid

He stands at the border,
Bored and preparing to board
The B-Train into my unconscious.

He sees my thoughts, dreams,
of violent death, and the extent of its pain,
And death by disease, with all its dishonor.

I don’t know who He is,
And I don’t know why he’s watching,
But I think I’ll welcome him in.

I think I’ll brew a pot of decaf,
Just to disappoint his weary eyes.
I think that’d be nice.

Me and him,
We’ll have a comedy of manners
Within my comedy of errors.

This shade knows what’s best,
And won’t allow for pesky pleasantries.
He’s oft of the violent sort.

Someday, he will lay my bowels
Before my eyes,
And set ticks on my eyelids.

We know our fate,
We see what is to be,
And for now, he’ll keep me in my sleep.

picture found on facebook
picture found on facebook

 

Vagina in Blue/Man

by sidcorvid

Vagina in Blue/Man

Man-made light breaks the horizon,
Bringing with it the faux joys of a new day.
Yet the raven still flies.

The divines can’t stop for me,
And I won’t be their burden.
I’ll bite my lip, and march on.

My hat’s brim funnels sweat,
Keeping my eyes clear as I look towards the future.
I fight tears.

I’ll make it though.
I always have.
I’m no deadbeat.

Believe it or not,
I’m better than I was.
I’ve grown through this shit.

So many pills,
So many girls,
So many mistakes.

Scar tissue serves a purpose though.
It’s harder to pierce the second time.

As nerves die, and skin hardens,
I evolve into the me I need to be.