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Literature Text
There's an empty cell in Arkham today.
I pushed the door open, let it swing.
The hinges creaked, then silence.
There was no laughter in the stone.
The bed was quiet.
The light, of course, would betray nothing.
I took one step in, kept my eyes on his window.
So, this is what he saw as he died.
Gotham, spread like cancer, interrupted by bars.
The sky was violet like his shirt.
I popped the collar against the damp and drew
my breath deep.
It still smelled like him, like blood, like sex,
like violence.
There'd never be another him.
People wept with joy.
I just wept.
The night was pockmarked with car horns, barks,
sirens.
But it was a face he had loved.
I had much to learn.
There's an empty cell in Arkham today.
I pushed the door open, let it swing.
The hinges creaked, then silence.
There was no laughter in the stone.
The bed was quiet.
The light, of course, would betray nothing.
I took one step in, kept my eyes on his window.
So, this is what he saw as he died.
Gotham, spread like cancer, interrupted by bars.
The sky was violet like his shirt.
I popped the collar against the damp and drew
my breath deep.
It still smelled like him, like blood, like sex,
like violence.
There'd never be another him.
People wept with joy.
I just wept.
The night was pockmarked with car horns, barks,
sirens.
But it was a face he had loved.
I had much to learn.
There's an empty cell in Arkham today.
Literature
Horse Shoe
A black-and-white figure, pasted across the pavement.
I light a candle,
a vivid poster in the hall.
Cuts, and cuts, and bruises.
You told me about your 'basketball incident'.
Connect-the-dots to create something
you are not.
A drawing of a donkey.
Splayed fingers in many different colors.
A church made of psychedelia.
We formed it from chalk
and we played as real people.
I got to the be the airplane pilot.
But chunks of my hair fell on your brand new sneakers.
You didn't know what to say.
There's something shiny-
very shiny in your past.
And I can see the gleam
but you won't tell me what it is.
I would love to listen to you sing.
Literature
Where Have You Gone?
Where have you gone, lover of mine?
Where have you been, this unending time?
Have you gone on a train, to a place far away,
Where the mountains sing and the sycamores sway?
Have you taken a boat to an island alone,
Where you sit and you think as you toss a cool stone?
Have you leaped on a plane to see new skies,
Where you watch shining stars with tired, worn eyes?
Have you just walked along roads with rotting old signs,
Where the locals count up your hard liquor fines?
Have you met someone new, sweet, and bright,
Who listens to your stories until late at night?
Have you made a friend that lends a hand,
Who will be by your side in the dirt a
Literature
Biovat
Twisted tubes, steaming and tangled
A guttural snarl, coarse and strangled
A mechanical creature of
A methodical making
A disaster;
Truly a mistake upon creation
When lungs pumped with air,
Crimson splattered gold
And a desolated city was left to the cold.
Suggested Collections
Written 3/1/11 when I was very sick.
Heath Ledger, no one did crazy like you did.
Heath Ledger, no one did crazy like you did.
© 2011 - 2024 seussical-love
Comments3
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Really, really good. It opened an entirely new ...thing! in my brain, i never thought in a way like this about the joker or any other "villain" for that matter. I respect you so much for this!!!