Category: Other

Some Grace

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There was some grace in our bones back in the golden days,

The knots in our chest didn’t set themselves ablaze like hay.

The guns we carried in our tongues only hurt on Sunday nights

And the batteries in our chests didn’t lose spite or light.

We spun faster but landed gently on fire-proof conclusions,

Nowadays we let the inferno rain as the most merciful solution.

The safety triggers stay buried like old tales for naïve kids,

But still – we almost feel sorry for blowing off these rusty lids.

The sun only shines on us by accident and we somehow thank it,

As if the world itself met us and asked for a safety blanket.

And they keep spitting up poison when preaching grand forgiveness,

It seems that they only speak up to polish their crumbling business.

Hence I put down the iron keys and walk away from the fright,

Some say I’m the only one to risk it – and perhaps they’re even right.

Not that I have time to hear them out, I must step out in the rays.

There’s some grace in the flesh that doesn’t preach the olden ways.

-JW

The Hell’s Guardian

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The first sudden shock to the muscle releases the loudest scream,

From there on out it’s a joy ride within a red beam.

Don’t worry, you’ll get used to the pleas and begs for pardon,

You’ll notice the little things and your heart will harden.

Once the sweat drips on the strings, they’ll play like an orchestra

But don’t lick the cords, you’ll become the first jester.

It’s not an interrogation – just a discussion about hereafter

So hold back their cries, hold back the roaring laughter.

Focus on your duty, don’t snoop around closed gates at night.

If the devil’s entourage walks the halls, get out of sight.

Don’t look them in the eye when they pass by the tinted windows,

Stay in your post and only go where the wind blows.

Sully the words you swore by in the uniform you once cherished.

If we’re honest today, you’ve long been perished.

So go on, let yourself get high on the lingering scent of fear,

Let their screams be the last song you ever hear.

-JW

The Visitor

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When the attic door creeks, it’s a bit too late to leave.

Tell the crimson in your cheeks to fade out once you bleed.

When the curtains slightly rattle, only then choose your battle.

Enter the last raffle before you drop the selfish prattle.

Sneak behind the dusty closet, just ensure that you close it,

And keep the fear in your pocket, it will be your last deposit.

Grasp the rug with your nails if all these other tricks fail.

Lower your white sails while the others chase their tails.

Never make a confession while looped in a deadly obsession.

You must only use the Hessian if you want to hear the question.

And when the back door creeks, collapse on your own feet.

Tell the nerves in your beak, “We’ve made it another week”.

-JW

The Fangs Of Spring

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The first breath of spring pushes its fangs into the city.

It’s not a question of why, it’s a question of when it’ll hit me

That not a single blood cell of mine remembers your venom

And the gashes in my chest no longer open if you tear them.

Perhaps time heals all but pure spite cures in leaps –

No wonder tears dry faster when the rosy fog leaves.

I keep driving past the places where you made me overflow

And now they smell like gasoline, the warning sign of a foe.

It might seem foolish but I’ve been walking by your street

Hoping that I get a chance to bring you the desert heat

Just like you did, shamelessly thinking you’re being witty…

The first breath of spring pushes its fangs into the city.

-JW

The Silence Roams The Hills

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Time flies when you don’t choke on words never said.

But we still do it – choose to make our own death beds

By silencing the little truths that grow into avalanches,

Ready to break down fences and snap dry branches.

And the silence roams the hills, it gains speed and weight.

It echoes through trenches like a loose bullet

You caught way too late.

-JW

Three Days

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Three days from now a revelation will crush your wings,

And the masks you put on will slide away with the winds.

You told me there’s no way to predict what’s yet to come

But I see your future in broken bottles of rum.

Three days from now a tragedy will settle your temper,

You’ll be hiding in the shadows, telling me to call later.

We once promised to never say goodbye because of fear

But ships sink between uncertainties, it’s crystal clear,

And three days from now the meanest thunder will strike,

I’ll say my prewritten apologies and you’ll call it a night.

The moon will dance just one more waltz in our hair

As you fade into the sunrise like the early summer air.

-JW

What Is It You Truly Treasure?

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The vulnerability in my thighs want to escape through the floor,

It is grasping my feet, telling lies, my heaven and hell are torn.

And the perfection you keep assigning to me hurts, it’s so sore,

But you just push through the surfaces and tell me to count to four.

The counter is broken, darling, and so is my steady patience,

There’s nothing left in me that tolerates you, nothing gracious,

And I wonder whether my wishes ever really crossed your mind

Because you only show those puppy eyes when you apologize.

But it’s all about the power and not about being grateful,

It’s about being wickedly sour, about being too distasteful.

You bring the tenderness for everyone’s viewing pleasure.

When I hide away the teeth, that’s when you call me a treasure.

What is it you truly treasure, is it a quality or a measure?

Do my eyes add some relief to this equation or only pressure?

But it’s still a dream of mine to figure your dominance out.

You’ve lived like this for way too long and way too proud.

So I let you run faster, I let you trip over your confidence

‘Til you realize you’re alone and I’m not your last confidant.

-JW

The Nightmare Warriors

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Sing me to sleep, gift me a wicked nightmare,

Let them blaze guns but don’t allow me to fight scared.

Negotiate the best terms for my imminent release

And sneak crown jewels past guards holding the keys.

Vouch for my innocence in the highest of courts,

Block the gates, close the streets, sink all the ports.

But don’t ever wake me, wait ‘til I have my say.

The thrill will only last a night,

It will only linger for a day.

-JW

My Shame

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I threw my shame from the top of a mountain,

I drowned it in bottles and endless fountains,

And I even abandoned my home to lose it

But there’s no better medicine than facing the music.

I tripped over ledges in some haunted woods,

Lost myself in shine and Old Hollywood.

The shame kept crawling up my trembling spine

And the world laughed like I wasn’t worth a dime.

However, I knew better than letting it consume me,

Than running once again and inventing a new me.

I stopped in my tracks until it chased me down

And for a moment it was my time to drown.

But I can forgive scars that lead me to victory,

The stories of the vanquished don’t go down in history.

So once more I throw my shame from steepest hill –

This one on one battle will end with a kill.

-JW

Leave It Unwritten

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Empty mailboxes and coffee stands,

Time dripping like sheen grains of sand.

My face is a mirror to your illusion,

My face is a mirror to your grand confusion.

Silky dresses and muted city skylines,

Breath leaking out after lost hindsights.

I assume your beauty is here to stay,

I assume your beauty puts me on display.

Harsh words and unwritten sentiments,

Broken hopes leaking from overused pens.

Your eyes poke my brain until it’s bleeding,

Your eyes suck the ink dry every evening.

-JW