The Apple Tree of Ages

there once was a child who wanted the apple at the top of the tree, he said to himself.. when i get older i can get that apple... ill wait and see

he got older and still couldnt reach it and said to himself i will wait... and someday ill have that apple in the tree.

years progressed and the child kept growing.. soon he was a man and he looked upon the tree and no longer did he want the apple the need was gone to reach the top of the tree.

he looked on as if a child full of life imagining how he would have  jumped and climbed and fought the branches of that tree...  got to the top and grabbed the apple of the tree.

and tho he smiled in silent regret he thought to himself... if only i had the guts.. to climb that tree.

- Damian Wilde

Emotional Nomenclature

I know not love crimes
for i havent a heart
taken away, to dearly depart

The monster rising
this fearless creature
the essence of loss
emotional nomenclature

the tasteless bud
of romantic bite
is that all you came for
to claim this night

the monster rising
this fearless creature
the essence of loss
emotional nomenclature

empires of sand
the swords in my chest
battles in forgotten land
but who was the best

the monster rising
this fearless creature
the essence of loss
emotional nomenclature

we can give it a name but no one knows
the shivers down my spine
when pierced by your bows
and arrows.

- Damian Wilde

Scars made of Stars

From the heavens you could fall
but of fault you are born
a masterful withdrawal
in linen and silk torn
a masterpiece
never been noticed
beyond the most brilliant man's sight
you could be resurrection
in a scar's vision focused

tortured in reprieve
a magic trick sleeve
i see through your mirror
the shocking true terror
a glowing bright quasar
in a milky way bar... always the token

this side of Jupiter
you smell of sweet jasmine
i long for you near
but you still hide in the dark
will you come to me sweet prince
I who will mend your wounds
or continue to hide
in the cavern subdued?

love is missed love that kissed the rattle snake dancer
a poison to hit the tired heart core of this sinful romancer
if god is a lisp at the tongue of your jest, will i ever succeed?
I love you like wine on the tender ripe vine and its all that I deeply need

fractions of chaos in the mist of fantasy
a gravestone permits the tender sweet hiss
when we all give in to fancy

perfection is lust when we learn to trust
the grave robber in twilight
nothing is true but the glow i can taste
it comes from your birthright.

cry a tear baby boy
for i will hold you ever near
your pain is my dark cancer
i catch them sublime
like the sour lime in my margarita
a cruel necromancer
with each tear i will fall
catch them in my hands
like meteors of the night sky
kissing them away
as your heart they fray
to shreds and asunder.


love is missed love that kissed the rattle snake dancer
a poison to hit the tired heart core of this sinful romancer
if god is a lisp at the tongue of your jest, will i ever succeed?
I love you like wine on the tender ripe vine and its all that I need

let me heal the senseless ordeal that burdens you so.

because love is pain
but pain can be cured
when one comes along
to remove those who would harm

those absurd.

SUNSHADE MIRROR (A FANTASY)

We could be as it were, truly lost in our self-deceit
living on and under the requiem for fantasy
illusions that skate gently in haphazard contempt for morality

The greatest lie is that which points the finger proclaiming such.

Simple slave, after petty martyr

all loss for life, it left these shallow halls without an echo!

For not the faintest flick of the wrist shall spring forth,

as you weren't worth the moisture of my tongue’s movement, nor release.

If funeral shall come, it was the bravest and wisest who shall attend.

Not in tears, but the velvet lining that has condemned them as bedding sweet.

Sleeping in the ever so clenching hands of eternity and not a man, nor sin is spun.

The quilted shambles of life you shall insert. 

My heart has but been birthed………… the shade that creates a sun.

Society Currupt File.bat

A simple resolution
in a morality contribution
a taste for retribution
when everything is a futon

If you claim to be
let me see this reverie
a taste of honey
in an environment stress free

haphazard wire crossing
dump your rash cross hatching
fear for fear junkie is junking
power house error patching

Entertain
you clown membrane
connection dysfunction
societal corruption

I hope you know
the love I have for you
supersedes this vibration
diagnosis my illusion

RUMORS OF THE HEART

I left a message in your circuit
you left a burnt up letter
I left a heart in your basket
you left a rotten apple

I left a tear vile full of sadness
you left a rumor
I left my heart shaped glasses
you left a knife

I left a memoir of scrolls
you left your mother
I left a glass of wine
you left a judge

I left my most prized possession
you left a stone
I left my soul in regression
you left a book you never read

I left my love
you left me, and my love

on a street corner
begging for food

GYPSY HEART

In someone else’s shoes
trading counted change
for smiles and laughs

All that is mine
isn’t really mine
every little dime
my greedy crime

This hat I found
abandoned like me
it fits me well
as does my apathy

Leave me to my pity
I have none for anyone else
I have a gift for you
it’s my absence

I pray it’s not felt
this path I tread
from house to house
no home no heart

Nomadic is my art
my friends my tribe
love is my currency
the latchkey scribe

The wind always at my back
the earth below me
the water I travel by

Fire… to remove and renew

And start again