Xylophone.

Distorted plastic, melting
shame,
Projecting outward, perpetuate
the game,
Something about a
name,

Paradox secret, burried
regret,
Peel away stitches, picking
wound, regret,
Just craving another
debt,

User, caged, enraged
with none left to
play,
Vessel, broken, nothing
left to say,
Twitching along another
way,

Murky muddy ground,
filth, entrenched,
Mouth agape, slowly
drown,
Keeping alive that last
siphon,
In sweat and shame, lay
drenched,

Tuned, hypnotic, straight
apart,
Played at once upon open
heart,
The epitome of body
art,

Extorted, contorted, crack
the cage clean,
Rip, straight to the unseen,
Circles by the slaughter
queen,
Dancing, red, dripping,
serene...
-END-
(C) D.C. Chapman
11/24/2012

Untouched.

Left behind, cut out
rewind,
Find, injured, that
piece,
Released, different,
wakeful, restless,
Breathless, the light
is now dim,

Trim the sore, why?
Whatever for?
Forever more, still
amid flux,
Sucks, but stone
against the
tide,

Stand to ride, untouched,
crushed, never
again,
Wane, in rising, the horizon,
uncertain,
Remain behind the
curtain,

At a distance, suspicious,
what is outside?
No more chance, conscious,
licking wounds, this space
to hide,

Decide...
-END-
(C) D.C. Chapman
11/21/2012

Laughing Walls.

Happy consumer, never glorify
just to horrify,
Terrify the lights out, dense
madness succumb,

Become, sadness, anxiety,
society, laughing walls
writing,
Fighting, intense, past
tense, weathered and
worn,

Born withered, without,
scream and shout
unheard,
Deferred, like a number,
that somber glass,
Think to pass, but none
around to show,

Singing seeds to
sow,
Body doesn't know,
Glorified filth from
residue,

See it through, destined
to be true,
Two stones, a head, and
a stick of glue,

Beckoned, torn, in ashes
burn,
So they turn, blackened,
in spiders cries,

Eyes, see right through the
lies, predatory,
In purgatory, away, lost
in sedimentary,

Rudimentary, blasting the
sighing veil,
Nail to hand, lost in the
sand far away from those
laughing walls,

Down the halls, certainly
hearing the calls... Yet none
stand to claim them...
-END-
(C) D.C. Chapman
11/20/2012

Obsidian Man.

Hardened heart of ice
cold stone,
Obsidian, thus, I sit
alone,

Warmed only by that
lingering hole,
A place once filled, happy,
whole,

Soul, be damned, straight
to the core,
Fingers twitching, picking,
sore,

Unseen scabs broken,
alive through pain
unspoken,
Insane token, advice
thrown away,

No day, blackened,
tarry in that
expanse,
Words spoken, true,
but nary ever the slightest
chance,

An end to the dance as
we all fall down,
Pieces, littered, in excess
praying to drown...
-END-
(C) D.C. Chapman
11/19/2012

Distance.

Look down, wake up, nobody
there,
Missing pieces, stitches undone,
fell apart somewhere,

Faces, nothing, all the same, mind
is racing, self to blame,
Not a game, just memories, hopes,
and moments of shame,
Who's to blame?

Not the face in everything, those
eyes, that voice,
Not the mind, the sweet and
kind, but the choice... Left
behind,

Giddy still over a simple name,
whatever the text, its' all
the same,
Not to blame, and nothing to
shame,
Its' never a game,

Distant itching to stitch the
hole,
To move a little closer and
make it all whole,

Outstretched to air, no one
is there,
That face, that voice, doesn't
matter if its' fair,
Pain rooting in care,

Forever to roam, far away,
yearning, burning to go
home...
-END-
(C) D.C. Chapman
11/12/2012

Brain Waves.

Exploding electric in
infinite unseen,
Taken static, the image
unclean,

Implication, agitation,
resignation from
nothing,
Attractors gravitate,
radiating notes from the
chaos string,

Octave unknown, unheard,
silent?
Higher still, regrown, seen
in ultraviolet,

Shine blind, bounds undone,
gravitating towards one,
Becoming all, yet equal to
none,

Nothing orderly, but nothing
random,
Implications undone, conceptions
blank, sensationally
numb,

Silence, pounding, the beat
of its' own drumb...
-END-
(C) D.C. Chapman
11/12/2012

Marionette.

Twine and stitch to
make it whole,
Resident electric, no
sign of a soul,

Twitch, residual, cut
to play the chord,
Bone and blood, but
this thing is fucking
bored,

Elastic, plastic, prosthesis
takes the reigns,
Treasure the pleasure, from
skin to pulsing veins,

Compulsive programming,
twitching to and fro,
Staggered, the thing, wondering,
incapable,

Tendons twitch like
puppet strings,
twitching somewhere behind
the scenes,


The monster is man, standing
hand in hand,

Skin to bone, and bone
to sand,
Forgotten and severed from
the Master's bony hand...
-END-
(C) D.C. Chapman
11/12/2012

Footprint.

Don't wanna be a number, don't
wanna be a name,
Just wanna be in wonder, outside
the normal game,

Don't wanna be a creep for
lending a helping hand,
Don't wanna sleep with one
eye open, forgotten in the
bloody sand,

Don't wanna be the problem,
just wanna help to solve,
Don't wanna be the sticking point,
that makes the world devolve,

Who will remember? He was
a fighter, he was a lover, he
was an awesome guy?
Just him, he loved to live, but too
much did he have to ask
why,

Why the numbers, why the games?
People recorded, in serial order, not
so much their names,
You are debt, live til you die, dragging
them down, always asking
why,

Nevermind, work 'til you die...
-END-
(C) D.C. Chapman
11/11/2012

White Noise.

Worst day since 

yesterday, 

Realizations upon

revelations leading the

happy-go-lucky

way, 

What a great fucking

day, 

Stomach churning,

pounding heart yearning, 

Burning through what it

seeks to hide, 

Taken for another ride, 

relegated to the

side, 

Just there, simply stand,

tolerated, 

Reaching that hand, 

obliterated, 

Brushed aside, collecting

dust... Delegated, 

Segregated from that 

strength of heart, 

It falls apart in every

sense of the word,

Regardless what's said,

no matter what's heard, 

Is that absurd?

Help! It cries, piercing

through, it tries, 

Reaching out, yearning, heart

aching, it dies...

-END-

(C) D.C. Chapman

11/6/2012

At A Glance.

Wouldn't it be better
now?
Shouldn't it be better
somehow?

Wishful, wistful, blankly
I stare,
Chasm, miles wide, home
over there... Somewhere,
Distant, thinking, off I
glide,
Pride?

Eyes, aplenty, so full
and deep,
Lost, in fancy, still
long I wheep,
Praying this heart never
crack and seep,

Move along, it says,
but never a chance,
Just to finish the dance,
longingly for that
one sideways
glance...
-END-
(C) D.C. Chapman
11/4/2012