Death is a GentlemanDo I have a reason to fear Death?Death is a Gentleman7 years ago in Spoken Word
He is kind and he's quiet,
He listens as well;
He'll drive you to Heaven,
He'll cart you to Hell.
His vest is embroidered
With little white curls
He puts flowers in His pockets
Which He gives to the girls.
He likes to eat chocolate,
(Or so I've heard)
And He keeps in a cage
a little pet bird.
His skeletal horses
Always look proper;
His wine is uncorked
and untouched by the stopper.
His shoes are so polished
You can see yourself in them,
His laces are always tied
Just below His pant hem.
His bones are quite sturdy
And never look brittle;
In fact, I have heard
He quite likes to whittle.
He makes little horses
And little toy men
Which He gives to young patrons
And smaller children.
He tells jokes on occasion,
But He's always polite;
His laugh is infectious
and His chatter is light.
He sweet-talks the ladies
and jokes with the men;
He makes your time worth it,
He won't see you again.
His hat is quite tall
and His suit's always pressed;
And He'll try for yo
DepressedDepressed9 years ago in Spoken Word
Once again all alone
I suppose I must deserve it
I'm clingy and annoying
Obnoxious and dense
Rash and silly
Lazy and obsessive
Sometimes I hate myself
I want to draw people in
But only push them away
I cry so much lately
Because everything hurts
Maybe I'm not meant to be happy
I force my smile
I fake my laugh
Does anyone notice?
Does anyone care?
It's not "Like Me" to be so
Depressed? Upset? Angry?
What is 'like me'?
Someone tell me
Because I don't know myself anymore
Once again, as before
I'm all alone
IcarusWho are you, and what am I?Icarus9 years ago in Spoken Word
Remember me? I touched the sky
I flew too hard and burned too fast
Dreams like mine, they just don't last
I touched the sun on feathered limbs
I satisfied my wildest whims
But I burnt out, and I fell down
My body wasn't ever found
But don't remember me for how I failed
I embody all the dreams that've sailed
So who are you, and what am I?
Remember me? I wasn't afraid to fly.
Meaning of lifeThe meaning of lifeMeaning of life6 years ago in Spoken Word
Life is beauty
Beauty can be a thing you like.
I like fish.
Thus Meaning of life is fish.
Barefoot Today I ran barefoot. It's the only way to run. You don't know freedom until you've run without shoes. Without soles weighing you down. Or laces tying you back. Run without inhibitions.Barefoot7 years ago in Spoken Word
Today I ran down hills and across busy streets. Feet pounding against hot asphalt. Running through cool, damp, grass. Balancing on curbs. And jogging along walls .
Today I ran down crowded sidewalks, shoes in hand, not returning glances. Silent questions hang heavy in the air. They watch me as I make my way down the street. I zig-zag past trash bins and over recycle bins. The hurdles of city life.
Today I cut across lawns. Made my way through parking lots. Past schools, silent, empty for the summer. Ran past yards with inflatable pools and grills waiting to be lit. Through hopscotches drawn in chalk. Pink dust clinging to my feet.
Today I ran barefoot. Ignoring snide remarks and odd stares. I just ran. Leaving ever
Description of a PoemThoughts on paper,Description of a Poem8 years ago in Spoken Word
Emotions in ink.
Verse that shows
What the artist may think.
Not just words
That rhyme or not.
It's a writer's emotion,
Their deepest thought.
To write great poetry
So deep and true,
It must come from emotions
Deep inside of you.
What you feel is what you write.
It helps to let it all out.
It's the perfect outlet
For those who don't scream and shout.
Do not be afraid
To let the world know.
Say what you think,
And let your emotions go.
Pixie Dust and Fairy TalesLife is not always rainbows,Pixie Dust and Fairy Tales6 years ago in Spoken Word
With pots of gold to be found,
Life is often madness,
In which we can only drown
Life is not perfect,
It forces us often to our knees,
Life is like candy,
It is sometimes bittersweet
Life is not always wonderful,
So many things can go wrong,
But it can be so, so beautiful,
With a joyous, radiant song
Life can leave us angry,
Leave us bitter, leave us worn,
And with so many paths to choose,
Sometimes we feel torn
Life has no magic pixie dust,
To make all things right,
And so we lose ourselves in fairy tales,
To ward away our fright
Life should be about living,
But sometimes it's passion is denied,
And in the end all we remember,
Is the many times we've cried
Life is not pixie dust and fairy tales,
As so many would believe,
Life, in all it's glory,
Continually makes us bleed
jlp November 2, 2009
A Great Artist...A Great ArtistA Great Artist...10 years ago in Spoken Word
A Great Artist is not someone who gets the Attention
It is not about the Shock and Awe
What really does it mean to be a great artist?
The Answer is within Every Person's Creations
Putting the most Effort into every piece of art
The Determination to never give up
To be Honest and Hard Working
Practice to amplify ones Ability
A great artists is more then Pencil and Paper
It takes Heart, Determination, and Pride
To put a whole being into the art
To work beyond the limits of what they were told
Taking time to give friendly Critique
Learning how to Improve Ones Skill
To be a part of the Community
To Be There when No One Else will
To help the Great Artists
There is a Community for them
The Community Offers to the unseen
That Community is UnseenArtists.
A Soul's PassingPlace me not, within this groundA Soul's Passing6 years ago in Spoken Word
To hear no more, a mortal sound
Encumbered by earth, a twisted soul
Covered by death, in this devils hole
I scream, I cry, to no avail
A pity screech, a desperate wail
In this wretched place I be
No more to hear, no more to see
All mourners turn and walk away
Interned in darkness and forced to stay
This knoll is now my resting place
Dried tears are etched upon my face
Six feet under is now my home
No more to wander, no more to roam
A stone is laid upon my head
My body blanketed with a flower bed
Please visit me, although I'm gone
Our bodies wither, but the soul lives on
In hearts of loved ones, for ever more
Dreams to keep and minds to store
Our lives are given as a gift
To help restore and give a lift
To those who shared our living days
In many forms and many ways
So I Rest in Peace with knowledge known
Of eternal slumber and seeds I've sown
I close my eyes and say farewell
To what was once my human shell
TortureSometimes torture is physical,Torture9 years ago in Spoken Word
It is being pinned against the wall by the bully,
It is being spat on. It is being laughed at.
It is going home and washing the rotten food out of your hair
And the tears from your face.
Sometimes torture is emotional,
It is being ignored by your family,
It is being used by your friends. It is abuse.
It is curling up in bed at night and crying into your pillow
To muffle the sound.
Sometimes torture is mental.
It is self-inflicted and ties you in knots,
It is insanity. It is fear.
It is running when you have nowhere to go and hiding
Behind something that won't cover you.
All torture is pain.
DragonsIn my dreams I ride on dragonsDragons9 years ago in Spoken Word
Of fire and dew, blood-red
And pure white. In my dreams
I have the confidence to love my body,
But this is dream-shown in the way I flaunt it
And in the way They want it
As They want others. I am
Not the stunted one, second-best with the speech impediment.
I do not compete endlessly with those
Of the bee-stung lips, fragile bones sliding
Smoothly under untainted skin. My dragons and I,
We soar through clouds made of the souls lost
To the soul-less. Our sun is hidden beyond
The mountains in the distance. Those tall towers
With words carved into them,
Words I cannot read from this distance. We
fly closer and the soul-clouds crowd us
Whispering of poisoned lands, pulsating earth
Riddled with pox-marks. A bit higher then,
Away from the tainted soil. The words are
Readable. A Wilfred Owen quote?
"I have paid the price to live my life
On the terms that I have chosen"
Between a world filled with instant beauty
And passionate, fleeting love, and my
Dreams of soul
AbusedDaddy hits,Abused8 years ago in Spoken Word
And Sissy cleans.
And soon as shes done,
It starts all over again,
Guns are shot,
And you bleed,
You cant trust anyone it seems.
Youll go to the hospital,
Theyll mend your heart,
But when you come home,
It will fall apart.
You never even have time to go to the bathroom,
Or enjoy the life youve been given,
Because as soon as you walk through the door,
The torture starts,
And youre falling apart.
Someday it will end,
Your broken heart shall be mend,
Theyll pay for the pain caused,
And you will not be abused anymore.
shadow's family chapter 1amy: shadow!shadow's family chapter 16 years ago in Spoken Word
shadow goes over to his 8th month old pregnant wife
amy: dinner is ready
amy hands shadow a bowl of soup
shadow: thanks love
shadow kisses amy
shadow: i still think i should cook and you rest rose
shadow hugs amy while rubing her belly making amy giggle
amy: but shadow not to be mean love but you cant cook you just burn things
amy: you almost burned the house down
shadow's ears go down
amy: shadow its ok you put the fire out
shadow smiles as he feels a kick
amy: come on shadow lets go and eat
shadow smiles and kisses amy on the lips then sits down to eat
[after eating they sit down in bed]
shadow starts to make out with his rose slowly pushing her down on the bed while moving to her neck
amy: ohhhhh shadow
amy starts to purr making shadow smile. shadow moves down to her belly and rubs
shadow: i wont let anyone hurt you nor your mommy
amy: ohhhh shadow
shadow: its true tho
amy smiles then suddenly a robot smashes threw the win
Half-Blooded KnightHalf-Blooded Knight7 years ago in Spoken Word
Eye's Of Ice
Hair Of Snow
Sword Of Silver
Guns Of Gold
A Hunter They Say
Of Beasts Most Foul
Seeking Out Those
Seeking The Ruin Of Souls
Speak Not Your Mind
The Half Blood Cries
Upon That Of Your Demise
The Legendary Dark Knight
Will Raise A Hand
Bringing The Light
To A Once Dark Night
With Life's Blood Spilled
The Deed Now Done
The Hunter, Our Saviour
Retires To The City
Speak Not Ill Of Him
Our Half Blooded Knight
For Tis He Who Quiets
The Voices Of Fright
~ The-Bone-Snatcher (( Amber Peckham ))
Park of Dreams ReloadedPark Of DreamsPark of Dreams Reloaded7 years ago in Spoken Word
While walking through a park today,
I tripped upon a rock of gray,
then struck my head upon that stone
where I blacked out there all alone.
A dream soon took me to a place,
a crisp clear vision of your face,
your blue eyes shined their loving glow,
your golden hair was let to flow
upon bare shoulders naturally,
as it cascaded down on me.
You placed a soft hand to my face,
which caused my heart to pound and race.
You brought your breath so close to mine,
then whispered only one small line.
You said... "I Love You... yes I do,
I'll always be here just for you".
That forced my dreaming eyes to tear,
for suddenly I had no fear.
No fear of ever losing you,
the one I've searched for my life through.
The one so lovely, warm, and kind,
the one I thought I'd never find.
I tried to force my lips to move,
to say the words so I could prove,
that all held feelings deep inside,
are feelings that I cannot hide.
But words don't come so easily,
while deep within a dream you see,
i am not my bodyIt's just a body.i am not my body8 years ago in Spoken Word
just a shell; an exterior casing that I live in.
It's like my house.
It doesn't matter its size or shape.
My soul is bigger than my body will ever be.
It is my spirit, my personality, my vitality that matter.
My body may look like anything, but I have not changed.
It's just a body.
It isn't even just mine. It's ours.
We share this dwelling cell.
It's just a body.
It's only a frame;
a structure we inhabit.
Clothes don't matter;
my soul is greater.
Shape, tone, chest, legs, back, stomach, face;
They are not who I am.
My body is not who I am.
It says nothing about me.
I say what I am,
who I am,
how I am.
A mirror does not reflect my soul, heart, worth.
My thighs are allowed to touch.
I am not my thighs.
My pants are allowed to fit and even be too tight.
I am not my size.
My clothes are not who I am.
My fingers should not easily wrap around my bicep.
I need to show myself I'm strong.
MusicWhat is music?Music8 years ago in Spoken Word
Music is my driving force
The one thing that has kept me going for so long
Aside from my few friends
But before I knew them
I would lose myself in my music
What is music?
Music is the truth
Even if it sounds incoherent
It is the means by which my spirit communicates
Even though no one else can understand me
Because I say what is real
What is music?
Music is a release
It is the way I escape my problems
A temporary reprieve from the troubles of the day
I lose myself in another world
Created by the sounds
What is music?
Music is everything
It is true, false, right, wrong
It is the cage that holds me outside
Of a world ruled by those who can't know me
It is my one true freedom
ThornsYou want to be beautiful, you don't want to be wiseThorns8 years ago in Spoken Word
You want to be perfect in everyone's eyes
Disgusted with the way life's been treating you
You're not even living- death's got its cold grip on you
Aging and bleeding, tears falling- you're crying
Skin wrinkled and cold- can't you see that you're dying?
You love living so much, you're willing to die for it
But do you love death- are you willing to fight for it?
Sever the bonds that tie you to the earth
Accept your crown of thorns- you won't be the first
Wrap yourself in silk- you're perfect on the outside
Hide the fact that your heart and soul have already died
You act like you don't have a fear in the world
Don't want to carry the colors, though they're already unfurled
Lovely and beautiful- everyone's fooled
But not the One who looks down and sees everything true
Suffering, in anguish- now everyone sees
Lay down and die now- you're no better than these
Who have lived before you have and died all the same
They've died with hono
- He Who Shapes -He Who Shapes- He Who Shapes -6 years ago in Spoken Word
I can make a crime look like a love scene,
a train accident feel so poetic you will be happy with tears,
a nuclear explosion melt your heart with pleasure -
that's the artist's gift...
But I can't bring those people back from the dead.
However, I can give you the illusion of inner peace.
That's why I created God for you.
Brilliant madnessMadnessBrilliant madness8 years ago in Spoken Word
A flicker of light in the eyes
Another look on the world
A silent longing to belong somewhere
The angst of not being real
People running around in circles
Maybe they are the ones who are mad
Telling each other lies
And for what purpose, to hurt
When the truth could have been enough
Being with kin seems like a break from it all
From all the madness that sorrounds
A bland look in the eyes, is not a proof of stupidity
There might be more behind the eyes of madness
Another look at what is fair, and what is not
Trust is something that must not be broken
And a promise is to be kept
Maybe the normal are the ones who are mad
And light madness, just another way of thinking
The world needs all of us
Do not try to push us out of it
Poetry - The Untold Oaths Indigo, Indigo Tribe - Lay of CompassionPoetry - The Untold Oaths7 years ago in Spoken Word
Through endless gloom, 'cross paths unkown,
Your pain and grief become my own,
When strength has failed, all courage flown,
Recall our rhyme--
You're not alone!
Orange, Agent Orange's Credo - Greed
On every world my lust will dine,
No other light will stand to shine,
Now lay your souls upon greed's shrine,
For all is naught--
'till all is mine!
...Falling StarsAs I watched You carve each star...Falling Stars9 years ago in Spoken Word
out of the Inky night
My ageless child's eyes counted
as they Fell
These flawless new souls,
exquisite with their
...their Divine Perfection
As years passed I kept
a watchful eye,
counting but not keeping track
stricken with awe
time and time again.
Always through that same Child's Eye
upwards I'd gaze
as You would etch and carve each
new star from that leaden canvas
You, the ultimate Artist, the Creator
were e'er trimming with such Delicacy
No pattern to follow
no Star ever duplicated
So now here I still do gaze
and anxiously I wait, anticipating,
for My special Star
Because throughout my life the only constant,
BrokenAnd the skies will fall like the dreams of crushed men...Broken6 years ago in Spoken Word
and the will of the fire takes the relative place legitimizes above all.
The world that stirs itself within a concoction of misery and aversion.
The fallen skies. The fire here over.
The sensibility that fills up the rest. The things are all that we want.