Sunday, February 15, 2009
La Farsa.
He stood tall; he stood still; he stood proud.
With wit and charm, standing out from the crowd
Promising excitement and something so new.
Though is what you see something true?
Cuz it's not the same once you've turned around
And what's said low is not what's said loud
And you're left sitting pondering it through.
Can we start to believe all that we see
It never was real; not here and not now
But we choose to go on and pretending it all
And we'll never be over and never be free
By the way we continued with this furrowed brow
And we throw ourselves down and continue to fall.
[ G.B - October 31st, 2008. ]
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Pathetic and Ruined.
The crowd’s applause so loud and fierce it’s stinging in my ears
The lights go dim around us all as people start to leave
And so here ends the final scene of this extensive spun off plot.
A masterpiece of great proportions this play was set to be
Full of twists and turns of every kind that set the stage ablaze
Of ever going, never showing, always fleeing heroine
Cast parallel to the antagonist in this tale of dying glory.
What started out so sweetly in the age of lure and innocence
Began on shattered glass and lies that never ceased to wound us
No honesty and mucho distrust that loomed above like threatening clouds
The tone was set profoundly in the very first act, since the very first scene.
They circled around each other... sometimes here, sometimes there
Causing major rifts; predicaments. Many obstacles… dilemmas.
The ties that bind, the lies that blind that encompass our two players
Are what bore them down into the ground until that final hour.
The heroine was set to run off with mighty steed and stable
But alas the fellow counterpart has long since lost his story.
Desires and ambitions have all fallen short and deflated
And whimsical melodic dreams have now soured and disabled.
What’s seemingly initially a fiery fight to venture into
Is quickly turned into a night of frantic loss and derangement
that lulls you into limbo with hypnosis and deceit
and chances of survival or escape are much too late
When smiles fall too quickly and land on uneven grounds
They’re left alone to spoil and rot and whither away to die
And bubbles of grace and amour from clouds that float above
burst sharply, cold and thunderously amidst the stagnant draft.
What is one and what is two never go hand in hand
Even still if the fit is most even and quite perfectly entwined,
Cuz if one is much alive and still thriving on ahead,
then the two cannot compete with its simple structured vision.
If it’s sterile and expired with a spirit that’s left dying
on the floor of this merciful play that’s exhausted past the hours
Then what point is there to try and revive what’s been decayed
and left lying there to rot with dismay, revolt and disdain.
With the chemistry correct you would think it was magic
How the effects and explosions were set up on this stage
But how things all wound up really do seem quite tragic
Better left said and done when there’s just no more to manage.
But a shadow overcomes our antagonist strutting on stage
And the plot turns to damaged, hostility and rage
First it’s ups. Then it’s downs. Then it’s most always in betweens.
Of a heroine left to struggle; left to fend for her own ways.
Not worth the effort to consume, and less than ever to refuse
To take a part of all that’s game.. when all in all.. it’s still the same
The antagonist has no will to share nor patience to include
He pulls the strings just how he dares, with lack of any sense or care.
A dying man of many gifts. Abundant full of hordes of treasures
Which were once so valued highly; part of her most greatest pleasures
A firmly planted stone; a statue.. with cracks so far within
It’s always been a misconception of the bond that locked us in.
No longer standing strong and full, it’s emptied to the bottom
The luster has diminished now and treasures have been broken
The gifts and pleasures too are gone, all fading into blackness
Succumbing to that inner void has taken all its riches.
As blank as a canvas, all barren and stale, hung upon your very wall
That can be painted any which way depending on the stray he sees that day
No volume left, nothing to see. Not one more thing to spare
It’s all been gone. No soul to sell when your life’s in one big drought.
So you turn to the gains, the sweet pleasures that sing
Though most temporary, they will suffice for some time
And you cling to what brings, sunny sides for a day
And the nights still will leave you in cold sweating darkness.
So you take what consumes, all what’s left there to burn
Though not much, it’s a high when you feel it
And it’s taken quite some time, to forget all your lies
Still you try to wash it over with disinterest and impartialness.
But all’s hidden inside, buried deep down within
In the caskets of your most central labyrinths
That you dare not peek in. You will dare not return
You will dare not reopen such madness.
Better closed off and bare. Paste a smile and be still
Better party away all your actions.
‘Til tomorrow one day.. doesn’t matter this way
All he sees is another distraction.
And yet this parade still does come to a final deadly draw
On a night of bitter passion left to dry up on the walls
Mistrust, distrust, no trust and mere illusions painted thick
Have strangled, suffocated and hung this flame out to dry.
Much better love for her to find is what he claimed so high
Erasing all you’ve planted here and quickly hit rewind
They’ll plague his final day, he says… but we all know the truth
Of mindful games and awful ways he’s used to bait his dames.
No more of this. It’s dead and done. It’s over, gone away.
She’s free of all that’s clouded her for a decade past and lost.
A shame to see the show turn this way, a severe and harsh defeat
Of a movie role that played so sweet to life’s own music sheet..
So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, goodbye... adieu. Adieu.
The time has come to roll the credits, cut and roll this reel
The cast is tired, all scenes are done and the way has just been found
As the heroine waltzes past the dark and heads straight towards much better earth.
We would like to thank all audiences and members of this fanfare
Who contributed and who sang along us as we tired and drew out the fights
It was long and was hard and incredible though drawn out far too long in the end
And became quite a bore, and turned into a snore.. most predictable in its own way
No regrets of her acting, no resentments and hashing
Just a slate that’s wiped clean and made bare
With a chin held up high, and a soul that burns bright
Better roles up ahead she will find to fulfill.
Time to turn in the script, burn it down and retire
It’s a melodramatic tale, nothing left to admire
When it’s wasted and used, all is seen, nothing’s new
Time to wait on what’s better, and not partial and bruised.
As we bow down our heads, for that one final time
Last call here. it’s the end of the road now for some
Let us curtsy and wave as we make our grand exit
This fervent theatrical performance is undoubtedly permanently over.
Fin.
[ ~ G.B ~ '09 ]
Friday, November 21, 2008
quanto tempo perso dietro a lui.
Ma sapevo che era una bugia
Quanto tempo perso dietro a lui
Che promete poi non cambia mai
Strani amori mettono nei guai
Ma in realtà siamo noi
E quante notti perse a piangere
Rileggendo quelle lettere
Che non riesci più a buttare via
Dal labirinto della nostalgia
Grandi amori che finiscono
Ma perché restano, nel cuore
Mi dispiace devo andare via
Questa volta lo promesso a me
Perché ho voglia di un amore vero
Senza te...
[ strani amori - laura pausini ]
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
I chose to feel it and you couldn't choose.
There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave.
You were what I wanted
I gave what I gave
I'm not sorry I met you
I'm not sorry it's over
I'm not sorry there's nothing to save.
[ STARS : your ex-lover is dead ]
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
What's worth the fight?
in past lives lived once near and far
of twisted love so broken and torn
that once was new and fresh when born
of hopeless ties that never cease
we keep them tied so tight, so near
becoming hatred, an empty room
while marching forward towards our doom
of lying whores who kiss, don't tell
and have you locked up in their spell
of manic ways, and panicked states
it's you who seems to choose this fate
of misery bound close to you
of something that was never true
of lustful, carnage tasty ways
accomplice to your own decay
what's worth it when you plan your day
what's worth the fight to make you stay?
cuz you keep on making same mistakes
and there's only so much a girl can take...
Monday, September 8, 2008
In absence of the sun.
It seems no better when you've had your say.
You may believe it's just because
The words get colder when you've gone away.
I thought I understood what I was to you.
I don't want to feel this way, no,
I don't want to say I'm just a friend.
I don't want to wait around here
'Cause you don't want to feel no pain again.
We just lie about it
As we become shadows of ourselves.
Some may fear committed lives.
I sure am one of them without you.
Does it come to you as some surprise
I laid the ground beneath to doubt you?
Was it ever, boy, something you could hold?
I don't want to feel this way, no,
I don't want to say I'm just a friend.
I don't want to wait around here
'Cos you don't want to feel no pain again.
We just lie about it
As we become shadows of ourselves.
I don't want to look away.
I don't want to be the one denied.
It ain't no fault of mine
Someone somewhere told you lies.
We don't talk about it.
We just become shadows of ourselves.
[Duncan Sheik]
Friday, August 1, 2008
behind the curtain.
if it's hidden well behind the door?
this interlacing dance we do,
repeated over and over again and some more
with the dropping of hints, simple comments and looks,
it's become quite a tire and a definite bore
seems to me all that was or what all could have been
has become nothing more than just common folklore...
a fake and an artist, a magician even so
shifting shapes, changing phrases, incognito to the core
never knowing, always pleasing, lies that fill the air around
and these mind tricks always switching are making me become quite sore
painting pictures of a certain scene, labels placed about the room
calling sinners out and liars too, all fakers, cheats and whores
no longer pleasantries and honesty, it lacks in severe forms
while we maim and hurt so senselessly, in this secret hidden war.