Don't Cry Daydream

Don’t Cry Daydream

By

Lucas Corso


When the lights go out
Who is left
Standing silently
By the edge of
Night
Nevermore
I’m here
Baby
Razorblade kiss
Kill the day with a
Solemn vow
Swear to me you’ll
Smile all lips
And hips
And eyes
Like the sky
Crescent luna lies
Lust turns to dust and
Love doesn’t find
A home with me
The tragic hero
Hates himself
And the heroine
Has a heart
Stained golden and
Weary with waiting
When will the end
Wash away the sun
And melt the castles
Made of maudlin
Regret and the reciprocity
Of the red rose religion
Found in dime store
Paperback promises
And a liter of
Lausanne I’ll wave goodbye
For now
Always for you
Forever a fire
Forget me not
When you go
And smile once in awhile
When you see
The fools falling
In love with the ghosts
Lurking in sad cafes
And in corners
At tomorrow’s parties
Don’t cry tonight
Toast the stars
And turn out the light
Darling dance
With the moon and just
Daydream.

A Rose For Longing

Here's a poem I wrote for a friend of mine to give to his girlfriend. Man, sometimes my bullshit flows faster than the interstate. Just a note: I no longer indulge in Baroque, utterly ridiculous displays of flowery verbal vomiting, and for the record, Romantic period art and literature suck the proverbial dick.

A Rose for Longing

By

Lucas Corso

A Request

What can I say
That hasn’t been said
Or purloined from the poets
Of time immemorial down
Through the long dusty ages
An archaic Grecian urn
Inscribed with the exploits of
Hero’s Herculean danger
Duels or the amours of Aphrodite
Against the walls of the Acropolis
With the unsuspecting peasant
Boy bravo and the bulls of
Etruscan legend lover’s
Tombs dry and devoid
Of the kisses of the marriage
Vow and vanquished
Hope buried beneath the sands
Of Tel Amarna absolute
Avowal anger of the gods
Great and small
And the petty whispers
Of men long dead.

So, what can I say or
Surrender to the winds
Blowing west across
The dire empty wheatfields
And the purple mountains
Majestic to find your ears
In time for your waking moments
To reflect a kiss through the prisms
Of temporal time space sight
And sound I can’t express
A single thing that’s new
Or true or blue eyed
Sympathetic songbird
Soliloquies offered to audiences
Of the blind dumb and deaf
I’m dying to tell you
Something that will curl
Your toes and
Make the California sun shine
Extra long and bright
Upon your golden skin
And produce a smile
To melt the hearts
Of those residing in
Utter darkness
But alas, I’m not
Up to the
Task.

So, what does a commoner
In a carnal kingdom
Produce as a worthy gift
To garner the graces
Of her majesty’s good
Will and warrant a kiss
Pure as the snow
And desired by the many
Men prostrate at her feet
Hoping only for a glance
Or a whisper of words
Never wasted but gathered
Like diamonds and preserved
In amphoras ethereal
And scribbled on scrolls
With all the care of
The illuminated texts
Of the risen redeemer
And the sacrosanct
Siddhartha nothing
But a kiss blown on the
Wind and sealed with
Wishes for her happiest
Fortune and a love
Everlasting in her heart
Body and soul to sustain
Her when the memories
Of youth and yesterday
Can’t console her
The only thing that I can
Give you is a smile and
And a piece of my heart
Which you already have
Forever happy birthday
My darling dearest
Rose.

Cigarettes and Coffee

Two of my faves, yes, for nigh on fifteen years now. Periodic bouts with the bottle over that time, but always an affinity for good, French Roasted coffee and a pack of whatever came "Buy Two get one Free" at the local convenience store. I've made several attempts to quit the old cancer sticks, and I think this time it'll stick. I just got tested for Lung Cancer today. I get my results back on Friday. Needless to say I'm not stoked. The fires of fear are kindled in the Old Homeplace but not in vain. I put the fags down today, hopefully for the last time. I'm sick of it. Coughing every morning until I hurl and giving half my paycheck to the people at RJ Reynolds or Phillip Morris isn't the direction I would like my life to take any longer. We'll see. Tom Waits can do the slow burn till he's six feet under, but as for me, I'm getting on the health and happiness bandwagon. Its about time. peace.

--LC

Big House

Here's a video I did with my friends Ryan and Lee. Enjoy.

Calloused Hands

Bones, sinews, limbs worn from work
Slavery for a few pence
Senses numb from swinging hammers
Time wears on but I’ve always got
Calloused hands to hold you
I rise early surly brute that I am
To go into the fields to harvest
The rent spent time never returns
I’m burning with desire and all I have
Are calloused hands to hold you
Mouths to feed we need so much
And there are only so many hours in the day
Way past due blue eyes full of tears
Empty pockets broken back
And calloused hands to hold you
The years go by why do you still love me
I’m ugly with the toil the soil
Of our love is dead red blooded bought
With my soul of iron and my used up strength
And my calloused hands to hold you
When they lay me to rest its best
That you move on I’m gone glory
Is not to be found in this story
But from the grave and in your dreams
Just a whisper on the wind I’ll send
My calloused hands to hold you
And when you’re old the years of gold
Will hold a promise of life beyond time
Sublime shores where I’m waiting still
A memory made real when you die you’ll feel
My calloused hands holding you.

Touch

Touch

By

LC


I touch you
Broken you
Your essence
Marred magnificent
A child’s embrace
Soft downy cheeks
Baby
Touch me
Broken me
Shameful me
Falling, twisting
Turning pale oblique
The glass darkens
We see each other
In liquid
The womb
The grave
The ontology of you
The absolute
Suffer me to dream
And in the process
I will rise
I will cry
War
Touch them
The kiss of steel
Hard razor ripping revolution
Bloodshed bombastic fury
Fire, sword, famine
Death knows innumerable names
I will submit
I will supplicate
For the end
This time
Touch you
Feel you
Hold you closer than my own skin
Make a new life
Replenish the earth
Start again
Leave this town
Touch the limit
Touch the sun
Touch the hand of God
Tell Him that we hurt
Tell Him that we still need
A savior
Touch me and tell me
Everything
That I ever wanted to know
And all that is
Is that we’re going to be okay.