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The Promise

You might think this kind of love is curse-ed. You might think no love is worth all that much pain. You might think I am better off for having lost it- but if I could I would do it all again…..

 

I am want to call it love making. But it was not.

It was animal. It was instinctual. A ritualistic coupling of passion and pain, anger and ecstasy all in such great measure that even in this moment, with that day so long ago and far away, I know not whether it rendered me dead, or I was reborn.  

But I do know, that from the moment he unsheathed his passion driven dagger and drove it deep into the tender recesses of my aching, needful flesh- yesterday was long forgotten and the promise of tomorrow? Simply did not exist.

There was only now. There was only us.

Until there wasn’t. 

And it is there, that the story of our demise truly begins.

                                                                          *****************************

 

The Promise is a song written and performed by American metal band, In This Moment. It was released on their third album, A Star-Crossed Wasteland. The song is a duet featuring In This Moment vocalist Maria Brink and Otherwise vocalist Adrian Patrick.

I have included videos of both the metal studio version and a live acoustic performance so you may enjoy the song as a ballad if the metalcore version does not arise in you- the memories of unquenchable passion that it does in me.

“This song is about when you are madly in love with somebody, but you know that you’re dangerous for that person and vice versa. They’re dangerous for you even though you crave them. You want it more than anything, even though you know it will end badly.” – Maria Brink- Lead vocalist, In This Moment.

 

The Promise

Its haunting
This hold that you have over me
I grow so weak

I see you
And everything around you fades
And I can’t see

You can never know what it is you do to me

I can’t take what you do to me
I can’t take it

I can’t take what you do to me
I can’t take it

No matter what I say or what I do
I know how this will end
So I turn it away now before we begin

And no matter what you say or what you do
I know how this will end
So I’m turning away now

I’m dangerous for you
I’m dangerous for you

You touch me
And I can barely make a move
And I can’t breathe

You never know what it is you do to me

I can’t take what you do to me
I can’t take it

I can’t take what you do to me
I can’t take it

No matter what I say or what I do
I know how this will end
So I’m turning away now before we begin

And no matter what you say or what you do
I know how this will end
So I’m turning away now

I’m dangerous

The only promise I could make
Is that my promise is a lie
The only promise I could make you
Is that my promise is a lie

No matter what I say or what I do
I know how this will end
So I’m turning away now before we begin

And no matter what you say or what you do
I know how this will end
So I’m turning away now

I’m dangerous for you
I’m dangerous for you
I’m dangerous for you
I’m dangerous for you
I’m dangerous for you
I’m dangerous for you

I’m dangerous, I’m dangerous for you

My promise is I will hurt you
My promise is I will hurt you
My promise is I will hurt you
My promise is I will hurt you

This is my response to Jim Adam’s call for songs containing the words Promise, Vow or Oath on this weeks edition of Song Lyric Sunday.

For Rent, an encore presentation

Photo credit 3 trailers

Don’t much wanna go to heaven
wouldn’t know no one there, no way
as the kind that I holds near and dear
won’t be a gettin’ thru them pearly gates.

There’s a better chance you’ll find me
sittin’ round a fire ring somewheres
talkin’ loud and smoking Marlboro’s
next to a tub a ice cold beer.

Wearing an old King Diamond tee shirt
and a pair a too tight jeans
sittin’ on some ol’ boys lap, feelin’ frisky-
in the trailer park o my dreams…

Where on every space there’s a double wide
and the lot rents paid in full
and my sister’s- ex-fi-ance’s -brother-in-law
has done his last parole.

So when I exit life’s long lost highway
don’t you be a worrin’ ’bout where I’ve gone
’cause I’m sure there’ll be a For Rent sign
on a nice li’l trailer in the great beyond….

 

When Chelsea Ann Owen’s put out a call for Terrible Poetry inspired by my take on heaven, I knew I had to repost this piece. Terrible or not, I still believe this to be my definitive view of heaven.

Well yer honor-

“Well yer honor-

It all started out real innocent like. We was a celebratin’ Jannette heres pro-motion, you see it’s not ever day that a friend of mine gets a rung up on the ladder, so we left outta the Walmart and headed us up to Jessie’s over on Handcock.

It was there that we had us a margarita or two, and they tasted sa good, and they went down sa smooth, a’for we knowed it we was a drinkin’ straight shots a tequilya. You know how you do it, first the salt, then the lime, then the business end a the deal, and after a few a those I knowed I best be a gettin’ off home, as I was soon to be too drunk to drive…

So then it was on the way ta my trailer, that Jannette here tells me she has her a li’l ol’ stash a that skunk weed. An’ me bein’ a couple a sheets in already, I says to myself, I says ‘What could be the harm?’

It’s here me memory gets a bit brittle in parts, but if them Polaroids is ta be believed, I’d have ta say it I got myself involved in doin’ a little ol’ strip tease er somethin’ out there on the picnic table, as I can’t rightly say what else it coulda been- and right about that time well, that’s when yer boy here, I mean ta say yer officer, that is Woodacre here, come a cruisin’ up.”

“Excuse me? Yes sir. That’s right sir. That one there in the blonde boofantè. That one there would be me…”


Photo courtesy of the Herald Times Online

my god

Unaccredited photo

as they lay there in
the blue white glow
of the back and white tv
she brushed his hair
back off his face
and listened to him breath
he was at peace now
her sleeping angel
no more anger
no more rage
her heart whispered-
‘my god, i love you’
her face buried
in his so soft mane
as tears escaped in silence
from her blue black
swollen eyes
and trickled ever
slowly past
that which makeup
would not hide
she stroked his chest
and longed to reach
inside, and somehow mend
the scar tissue
that was once his heart-
long ago
and way back when….

When skin or organs are damaged, the body naturally wants to heal itself. Since the body cannot re-create healthy skin or tissue, it puts together new fibers that are not as functional as the original tissue, but that serve as a protective, useful barrier. When this barrier is completely healed, it is known as scar tissue.

God Money

Photo courtesy of Trygothic on Deviant Art

Rhetorical “I love you’s”-
batted back and forth like flies
squandered sex replaces passion
 satin bed sheets stained with lies.
Caustic conversations, peppered
black with loathings mold,
through laser whitened smiles
veneering loveless, store bought souls..
A marriage of constituents,
fed on debt devoured dreams
youthful longings long succumbed,
to god money’s siren screams…
Credit cards, and joint accounts
the bones on which they feed-
A living breathing sacrifice,
to avarice and greed…