Gridlocked...

All this backtalk;

Lends a little deaf thought to this gridlock

You let a little stray whisper burn a hole in you

All these roadblocks

The streets beneath the signs above the crosswalks

They realign your promises that fell through

The songs that you heard, ring in your head

Playing endlessly, the march of your dread

The next beat is just, a footstep away

It’s just around the bend, half a world away

All the time you spent on moments unafraid

Escaping memories that you eviscerate

The day bleeds into night, and night another day

Are you around the bend? Or half a world away?

Dye Corduroy - Gridlock (words: Adil Salik)

Curfews & Clockworks

A para-revolutionized poem about the possible change that may befall.

Penned by: Adil Salik for an aural rendition in Late December (aka a hit song)

Curfews & Clockworks

Act 1

On the edge of waiting, at this precipice in time

the verdict will seep in the clockworks of your mind

The racing defiance you spent over me

collides with the fleeting in my brevity

Epilogue

The lights are all off; in hope of the storm

we’ve boarded up all the bad dreams

The restless will break the curfew at hand

to try to level this playing field

If the force of this moment bleeds into your heart:

the potion that renders every instance as gold

These are the troubled and these are themselves the saviors

and that is a secret that’s never been told

Act 2

You can ward off the yearning, wheel away the guilt

but the nagging will eat at the warmth of your soul

The policing of wisdom through the display of force

can never evade all the trapdoors and black holes

Epilogue

The lights are all off; in hope of the storm

we’ve boarded up all the bad dreams

The restless will break the curfew at hand

to try to level this playing field

If the force of this moment bleeds into your heart:

the potion that renders every instance as gold

These are the troubled and these are themselves the saviors

and that is a secret that’s never been told

Catching Flies - the poem pt. 2

The giving of new names to things much too old
is like a rhythm that’s beating in a marching bands wake
every disembarked dream leaves a mark on the soul
like a tattoo that’s pressed too hard right where it aches

And in the meantime
and in this mean world

All of this abandoned belief is now catching flies
all of these ghost of future past are running wild

Like the waves endlessly crashing on the edge of my town
there’s a silhouette of a welcome sign that’s been torn down
there’s a think tank that runs over all of my thoughts
bleeding the last drop of hope from my sky

(c) Adil Salik

Catching Flies - the poem pt.1

So my forray back into blogging* after a self imposed hiatus of a few months has to be shattered with great effect. Let me present part one of a poetic piece riddled & crafted in January of this year. 

*I have been micrblogging on my tumblr btw - which you can all sample at http://dyecorduroy.tumblr.com

Catching Flies - Pt. 1

This waiting is feeding more quarters in meters

fulfillment is aching to shelve all the lies

we tell ourselves to make time, like endless repeaters

we give ourselves reasons that tend to defy

 

And in the meantime

and in this mean world

All of this abandoned belief is now catching flies

all of these ghost of future past are running wild

Like the waves endlessly crashing on the edge of my town

there’s a silhouette of a welcome sign that’s all been torn down

there’s a train track that runs through my mind all around

like a vision that curtains the white of your eyes

(c) Adil Salik

In a sense/In essence/Innocence

The subliminal essence of days that pass me by are stuck like gum to my shoes. 

Like taffy to my soul. 

Like shadow to the minarets. 

The Attic Door

The proverbial attic door leads where? to matters of the heart or the heart of the matter... to the industrial mind, wallowing in the rust of the misery in refrain.

The attic door leads here... where the harsh skies bleed white & perceptions blur. How you wish you could reverse, erase or rewind till...

The attic door leads home.

The Invisible Eye

In a hole far away in a daydream of desperate indecision
In a war of a world gone mad growing all out of its precision
(dye corduroy - dirty street-lites)

Interstellar megaphone...

Some post modern lyrical poetry? Hmm? Maybe from an unreleased dye corduroy song? hmm?

Interstellar Megaphone

tick tock & i'm alone

so lonely i've been cloned

i've been on way too long

on my own

she starts to isolate

moments to masturbate

she picks a satellite

to confiscate

i've been in the sun too long

watching constellations form

interstellar megaphone

screaming alien songs

the universe inside your palm

you're my venus yearning calm