“BOXER .. .” by edenbray.

. Boxer, can you see through bloodied vision? this conflict born from all of Adam's sons subterfuge meets necessity in life's arena He stands alone who thinks alone homeless who battles indecision and oppression or who stands for his own valour In the clearing where all men may fail, fearless David feigned his madness only [...]

Identify Podcast Theme.

I have recently composed an intro soundtrack to the Identify podcast project I've been working on. For those that do not know, Identify is an ongoing novel collaboration project that delves into a mysterious island that has different uses for people. While the extent of these uses remains unknown, it rather explores the developing relationships [...]

The Trinity.

As some may or may not know (most likely the latter), I uploaded a track back in February concerning my character, Oktavia, for a role-play my friend, Chris, created. Since then, me and three others of the group formed a band and started creating more music specifically geared to different events that occur in the [...]

Two moons.

In two moons, a pseudoknot is in my blood begging to close about my last breath it wasn’t the echoing of gargoyles in our death-beds wandering our roots taken more by wiles and gutted solstice endless in your eyes I know you’re killing me © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved. Written for the dVerse quadrille [...]

Oktavia’s Rage.

Stealthily pacing away from the grassland and forestry was only to no avail. She would be yet another cause of death and havoc, as she marched on. Sideway flames were engulfing her vision, blood started to drip out from her wrists as she trembled—gripping vices like onto a tree limb; she struggled to catch her breath.

Guitar Instrumental.

I recently created a guitar instrumental with both rhythm and lead parts. It is currently untitled, but its genre delves into, I suppose, flamenco and a bit of folk country. I recorded each section and layered it together through Soundtrap. The guitar model I use is an acoustic-electric Fender CD-60SCE, the strings I use are [...]

death’s bouquet.

in womb, the fingers of tree an ancestress trunk in sects of strife, as born and lived through roots like fossil teeth, pressing to death’s bouquet in November’s winds; shackled in ebbs and flows, mosaics of flattered seas are astray, where they are now writhing for their shamed skeletons; they are conches swayed, rocking for [...]

la mausoleum

Perfume loring, turning and hedged to the skulled moon. It was a death-sentence oneiric to the autumn. It was symbolic as the little boy put his dirty shoes on my guitar case (and I said nothing), I felt atrophy of either the red koi flowers or the moon and I drowned to the moon herselflike [...]

in their dying, in their shadows.

In their dying in their shadows I will see your eyes. As the blood-flow             of living things, dear white shells and white bone fall into the ground, mama’s bony fingers             whiten the earth,                                     where all else fades and leaves; daddy glissades in the ice             picking flowers for us all, and soon [...]

my flowers do die.

my fingers trace / against the stone my flowers do die; ephialtes / in the shadows of / a deathbed / baby’s breath / a dream / threnody / & breast my flowers die in my garden, / mouthing / pseudo-ashes of the moonrise. © 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved. This piece was inspired by [...]

of memory.

I am dream-bound      to the weeping mother of an ocean shore, my shadow is darker      than the prose tree of mind and desire           a prospect of inner lunacy and death;      the clam’s mouth is lighter between the sun, into the silence of blue willows      to the inmost bones of creation [...]

Forgotten (to silence).

"Anger" by David Sutton. Stare at the ceiling, I am an afterthought, dreams cast forgotten memories in twilight’s tongue rivaling alone the silence of the world that pretends to be still, when it’s fucking not; I wake in the room alone, I intend to sleep; in weakness, the oeuvre is loneliness as it slips bloodily [...]

Mother.

A/N: This poem is dedicated to my mother, along with this instrumental I created to go along with it. I am adjunct to birth and death. Undraped, I emerge from womb—a pupa I barely cried, it was a spring birthday when it should have been an aqueous summer dream. Sense flees me before the world even [...]

Deadzone.

A/N: Another piece I wrote for an instrumental I created on Soundcloud. Check it out here. Early blooms rise at six axed in pale winter, a tumor of silence; in the white blossoms, fresh snow falls the night paradise lost into the womb and raid of memory, forgotten in the mist  we entreat. A temporal [...]

Do you remember?

A/N: Wrote this piece for a soundtrack I recently created. You can check it out here on Soundcloud. rye blows in the wind we have waited hidden in the dead valleys, broken upon the strange pale shore, open in a blue vapor over deprived sense what do I feel? I want to forget it all. I [...]

Collaboration Poem Ends In One Week.

Hello and Happy Earth Day everyone. I hope you are all doing well and safe wherever you are. There is only one week left until my poem collaboration closes. The theme concerns of freedom, how it impacts you, and what it means to you. It is a collaborative effort from the WordPress Community to create [...]

Eternal.

A feather lifts into the asters, Made known to the wind Teeming with a protestation Of what awaits to be quelled Eternally in this infinity, This sacrifice that slips from the dark, Settles into a river barely seen. Permeating from frosty caresses Sliding off the rock, And back into the cool, The bare of winter, [...]

Throughout our dark minds.

Amber sunbeams stayed in my dreams; and I recalled whispers throughout our dark minds—autumn when our eyes met; The reverie of the cold entwines us in deferred reveries, in ambrosial shadows. The planet reaps Mosaic stars in backlit born reflections; we will plant a bowl of bluets by the fireside to recollect our love. © [...]

Valhalla. (Prose)

It is in the beige evening by the willows and a café restaurant with the golden leaves and their shards on the grounds, covered in a cleansed rain. It is in the illumination of shatters that broke beyond the pale sky that not only writhes among itself, but will be only among a frail sight [...]

Half-Frost.

Keep your dead lilies, Two reared seeds. And the crisp red triste Of a cherry blossom Grows by the peas, Of the blue afterglow On the sameness of his laugh. As red wallops stifled cicada wood, The epistle chokes in the water; it’s been awhile. Scurf of a half Frost; marked their caged, primped words [...]