Author: naomhbriste

Notes

~ naomhbriste ~ Leave a comment

Feel this!
If you could ever feel anything
This!
With your tiny cock that doesn’t do anything
This!
In the romance you never had
This!
And you’re everything like your dad
Feel this!
You’re lost in wishing for kisses
This!
And you know what you are missing
This!
Our dream are haunted beside me
This!
You wish you were beside me
Feel the desire that changes everything
You wish that you could live
Without those controlling rings
You wish that you could be the woman you are
You wish that could be that shining star
You wish that you could be something that ain’t this
I gave you all the roads
You still didn’t take them
So you’re gonna live your life under someone’s control
Gonna live your life in that deep hole
Gonna live life your life under slave to the paranoia
Wish that you could see there was something better for ya
Bleeding all my words maybe nothing to say
Screaming and believing for some better way
You’ll live with the coward and you have no remorse
There’s a Nazi living with you and you have no recourse
Because you lack the moral fiber to say what he is
And his son is the one who gives unfriendly sex
So you’ll be silent while violence is done you don’t care
It’s all a fucking pretense in your blue-eyed stare

I wish you could see the difference, but you have no moral code
I wish you could see the difference, but you don’t see at all
You’ll accept the worst in people
Just so you don’t make waves
Your courage understood
To be more than chiffon waves

Existent

~ naomhbriste ~ Leave a comment

There’s copper and salt in my mouth
the sodden mass of decay under my feet
I’m living on cigarettes and coffee
and haunted visions of the living
I’m living in the place where dreams go to die

My hands shake and my body shivers
riven emotion etched on my sallow skin
I’m living on sleepless nights
and haunted desires
I’m living in the place that angels have fled

There’s a stench of death in every breath
rotted aspirations piled in savage middens
I’m living on acrimonious self-loathing
with the ghost of what should have been
I’m living in the place near the edge of the world

There’s vitriol coursing my arteries and veins
searing its way through vital organs and flesh
I’m living on stinging memory
and embittered self-contempt
I’m living in the place that nightmares call home

There’s vitriol coursing my arteries and veins
rotted aspirations piled in savage middens
I’m living on sleepless nights
and haunted visions of the living
I’m living in the place where dreams go to die

Marchen

~ naomhbriste ~ Leave a comment

This one is fully written and I’m including the guitar chords. I’m working slowly on an actual recording of it but am running into some difficulties. While I am able to write okay with a guitar I really struggle to play effectively (only three fingers — including my thumb — on my fret hand work correctly, and a compound fracture shattered the bones in my left wrist). That said, here you go.

B add11/F#
A/E
G6/D
E/B
AMaj sus 7 (omit 5th)
E/B
D Sus 4
E Sus 4
E/B
AMaj sus 7 (omit 5th)
E/B
B add11/F#

Make believe in fairytales
games of charades
lies, sighs, and fables
on a friendship drive
a personality crusade to surpass

You tend to depress
from one face to another
all looks whole but one is apart
sitting small
and frightened the real you
sitting small
and frightened the real dreamer

Accepting life under glass eyes
telling yourself
that it keeps you safe
but you know, the spies are watching you
but you know
it ain’t for your protection

You tend to fold for
his paranoia
all looks whole but one is apart
sitting small
and frightened the real you
sitting small
and frightened the real dreamer

Make believe in fairytales
games of charades
lies, spies, and fables
under watchful eyes
a personality hidden away

You tend to lie
as you hide who you are
all looks whole but one is apart
sitting small
and frightened the real you
sitting small
and frightened the real dreamer

Make believe in fairytales
games of despair
subsuming yourself
on a mirror drive
to convince that you are real
on a mirror drive to hide
the real dreamer

Won’t you stand tall
And steadfast the real you
Won’t you stand tall
And steadfast the true belonger
Won’t you stand tall
After all these years
Won’t you stand tall
And steadfast
The true belonger

Fragments 0.9

~ naomhbriste ~ Leave a comment

I’ve turned off the heat and the cooker
just made another hole in my belt
the 4th since that day
I’ve given away so many things
but kept your pictures on the wall
and the declaration you made
pinned to the fridge
with magnets and despair
cancer comes on fast and I wonder
if I can hasten it

My dog has sad eyes
as he looks at me
with understanding and empathy

I kept all the things I bought
for your birthday
an unexpected interruption
or a final heave to heaven

You’ll inherit all this, the mess and the random
with some surprise I suppose

Kisses and wishes and all of your lies
memories of breast and of thigh
forgotten with my welcomed demise

Condemning yourself to the romance of
a sodden paper bag
seems a strange way to live

I no longer have fresh flowers
that were always there for you
flowers die, decay is life’s revenge

If there were gods or mercy I would be
long gone from this and from your thoughts
if I was ever there

I’m kicking everyone out of my life
with disregard or callousness
I’m sure you remember how that works
you’re a master at it

Finally alone, unloved, unwanted
the forgetfulness I craved
the emptiness of sorrow
the raven scream of relinquished blood

We start and end in loneliness
and everything in between is lies and deception

Hiphop 0.3

~ naomhbriste ~ Leave a comment

This is what it feels like to feel alone
locked into my house no longer feels like my home
this is what it feels like to feel nothing
staring at the walls straining for something
holding tight just trying to keep from crying and cutting

Self-injury a way to somehow feel something
or to stop all of the pain and alleviate the suffering
when people die it isn’t them that feels the pain
the left behind are the ones who feel the shame

This is what it looks like in the mirror when I see me
locked inside my head where nobody can hear me
ain’t really smiled in months not since the time you last saw me
I guess I have to understand that you must really hate me

I cannot stop believing that you wish that I was dead
it happens when I’m struggling with the demons in my head
happens often at night when I’m in that lonely bed
wonder what I’d look like lying drowned in the riverbed

Self-injury a way to somehow feel something
or to stop all of the pain and alleviate the suffering
when people die it isn’t them that feels the pain
the left behind are the ones who feel the shame

If I believed in any gods I’d be on my knees and praying
but there’s nobody listening to a single word I’m saying
the walls are closing in my eyes blank from your betraying
nobody to hear the music and words of my emotions fraying

I been reaching and searching for something I cannot find
trapped inside the horror of the loss and in my own mind
making beats nobody ever hears with my own rhyme
each one sealed and delivered and with my grief self-signed

Self-injury a way to somehow feel something
or to stop all of the pain and alleviate the suffering
when people die it isn’t them that feels the pain
the left behind are the ones who feel the shame

Peace

Sun

~ naomhbriste ~ 1 Comment

Bones bleach fast in the withering air
and I would rather mine lie in desert than snow
picked clean by lizard and vulture and insect
by coyote and puma and the desiccating calefaction
of relentless sun
White and scattered with the rocks and the dust
relics on the landscape lost in time
I will be strange artifacts as a keepsake to be found
by some yet-to-come archaeologist
the heat bakes and boils the air in strange shapes
by the creosote bush in the blaze
‘til the crepuscular gloom brings forth to feast
on flesh drier than ancient leather
from whence all moisture fled
those scavengers of the dusk
Blood seeps from sunken eyes as skin sags
on exsiccated bones, tongue swelled and black
as words finally flee in delirious stupor
muscles cramp in agonizing contortions
until the delusions of dehydration
render meaningless those torments
Will that archaeologist wonder
at these scattered remains?
Will salt still cling to sunken cheek?
Or will this lie unseen forever in desert oblivion

Snow

~ naomhbriste ~ Leave a comment

I’m shivering with cold despite the heat in the house
and it’s probably because I barely eat anymore
having lost interest and pleasure in all things
outside the window wind tears leaves and flings them groundward
inside the ragged melody of my breath catches and hangs
as unimportant as my damp hollowed cheeks
I’m waiting on winter despite my chill
when those bruised and battered skies
brood heavy over the frozen land
I’m waiting on the winter soul
that freezes blood and rattles bone in cages of flesh
when crow caw dulled by cold white snow
is all the sound that comes
across the icy air and sallow fields
I’m waiting on the killing cold that blues
the skin of the exposed and distracted
that stings and burns in unrelenting detachment
the insides of abattoirs less drenched in hiemal frost
I will walk the land as frigid as your human heart
and damn the spring to come

Rain

~ naomhbriste ~ 1 Comment

I’m shutting down my computer
changing passwords and access
there’s no fear left in me
I’m shutting down my phone
with a long-winded phrase
no delight or damnation
awaits
I’m shutting down my house
and my car and my clothes
detached from those things now
I’m putting on a record
so carefully chosen
I’ll dance this one time
until darkness arrives
I’ve put on a mask
a liar’s face of okay
but nothing is or will be
and maybe that is what
makes this fine
I’m putting on a corset of rough hemp
and fibre
scratching while holding
in my unheld hands
rain falls soft over my shoulder
rain falls soft over my head
rain falls soft over my sorrow
rain falls soft
rains falls
rain

Days

~ naomhbriste ~ Leave a comment

Another year has passed today
brute reminder of time and tide
and I remember one year ago
and other times long past in shuttered forgetfulness
of tear stained pages torn from lost notebooks
and memory
How bright the world then in autumn blush
now drowned in bitter rain
another year passed and maybe last
as my purposeful inaction brings a closing
an end to the weariness and ennui
those malign cells multiplying as I do nothing
to stop the spread
instead offering them a warm welcome
in this worn out frame
Another year passes to be marked with
sorrow and tears
unbidden remembrances of joy
and acerbic mementos of other days
I am a relic of myself now
not some cherished keepsake or souvenir
but a buried secret and an untold story
and would that I could vanish now
as forgot as a discarded toy
that none should mourn nor pity
on this of all days let it be so
Let there be no indication that I ever passed this way
Let there be neither memory nor thought
neither echo nor response
the strains of my piano faded and gone
guitars unstrung and voice not heard
we are all forgotten in time
I just wish it sooner, more thorough, more complete
and now biology will answer honour that request
with malformed cells and spreading death
Today my keyboard sings sad jazz
my fingers remember old ways and forms
as I improvise and find haunting melody
my voice now a breathy catch
of sadness and soul
I play an hour on a theme from
my funny valentine
the keys aching with each note and each
phrase in hushed lips
spider fingers on cobweb keys
I play for myself and for you
on this day, in this place
in the growing dark
wrapped in it’s warm embrace
writing shit poetry
and keyboard riffs
and hoping the end come soon

Naomh Briste

~ naomhbriste ~ Leave a comment

I am the shattered saint, patron of the broken
ahead a ragged army of the lost and the forsaken
I’m the empath with lost faith
the humanitarian with no trust
in humanity
I thank the gods that this will end
I thank the gods that none will care
I am the shabby martyr for all your sins
patron of the distraught and distressed
I’m the lonely voice for all the bereft
keening cry unheard
I am the silent scream of the crucified soul
thankful that none shall hear
I am the lost and lonely in overwhelming sea
I am the burned and bridled to witch’s stakes
I am the vengeance unspoke and the words unwrit
I am the sacrifice that you made
I am love without reason and hate in a word
I am passion personified
I am a figure left on a broken cross
in hands and side I bleed
I am the shattered saint without remorse
on whom the lovelorn feed
this army march with splitted tongues
and while they have their truth
I still must write these fractured words
thank gods it’s over soon