A Legacy of WisdomYou have scribed your words,A Legacy of Wisdom4 years ago in Open More Like This
wealthy wreaths of wisdom,
on paper never torn or worn.
You have etched your passions
on my brow.
You have left this wallowed world
victorious; eyes resplendent
with the wisdom you wrote and wrought.
Your passions shall echo in my ears
And should I stray into some
sullen storm, or get caught in
the torrents of the monsoon, Ill know
that Lears been there before, and
Ill not swoon.
And if Hades doors open up
before my stranded soul, and scorch
it with the heat of hell, Ill recall that
I am not the first Dantes been down
there as well.
And if on my death-bed I mourn
the life I wasted on wine and stale
chocolate bars, Ill recall Wildes words and
hope that, though long in the gutter, I did
glimpse the stars.
NonexistenceI pray to a God I have never seen,Nonexistence5 years ago in Open More Like This
who lives in a world that has never been,
to save my heart that has never felt,
from eternity's failures, eternity's guilt.
My feet step on grounds no men stepped before,
my lips taste the poison, bitter and sore,
yet it does not kill me,
does that mean,
that I am immortal,
or that I've never been?
I pray to a God that may not exist,
while the iron shackle tears up my wrist,
to tell me the difference of being and not,
to show me the memories that I forgot.
My mind flies to places nobody has reached,
to learn that the stars are nothing but bleached,
spots on the dark, they're not even light,
I think that's 'cause real light brings nothing but fright:
It's bound to discover
all crimes, neatly covered.
I pray to a God because maybe he is,
unlike me and the world,
in them I miss
something to reach.
AnarchyScream the anthem of the anarchist!Anarchy10 years ago in Open More Like This
What is it? Exactly.
I won't tell you; make it up.
Go away. Blow it up.
Burn it down. Deface the town.
But don't give in,
Never -- no.
That's the song we all love so.
Freedom past extremity.
Far away, in my backyard
I own the world; I am a bard.
I wear a beard and shave my head;
All the normals want me dead.
I won't give up; I ramble rave.
You'll never make me behave.
My brother, loser, freak, meek geek
You know-- the beatnick, hippy, punk--
The rock bands my parents debunk--
We treasure what we cannot have:
No allegiance to any flag.
out of Gardenwhat seaout of Garden5 years ago in Open More Like This
how it is welling your eyes a wet mess
where urchins of the ocean will spill to howl their elegy
where mermaids will turn widows
once brine has swallowed whole their sailor babes
stewarding the land instead
is why i never set sail with you
but to lay in gardens, oh
a bed sheet rotten by the ultraviolet
and our laps full of stars
what black soil will pervert your knees there
where moonlight will mirror out from your teeth
to run fanatic toward cosmic space
after bathing in the space among us
where walking air pushes every dust
one of sun-dried butterflies
one of beaten rug with broom
one of honey bees minus harvest
one from sands of human crust
when traced is an orb monster, Jupiter
around your left breast, so that nipple
a blood storm just under the skin
and asking where you sowed the marigolds
is only to hear you choke the words time and water
in the same sentence
to hear you say there will be no rain for a week
while an ocean is
Perspectives of a Hallucino...Comfort. The softness of the basement couch. Misery loves company.Perspectives of a Hallucino...6 years ago in Open More Like This
Trickling through my fingers. Whispering across my face, her disappearing
lips trace across my cheeks. The smell is sweet, but she is rough against
my throat. Her smell isn't so much intoxicating as it is suffocating, yet
the smoke paralyses my senses and touches my soul. Her street name is
undeserving of her effect on me. Forever, she shall be known to me as
Mary-Jane. I will never know her beauty.
the plasticized quantum theorythe plasticized quantum theory8 years ago in Open More Like This
une voleur honteux
slip of the tongue
in each saturated pore
spectrum rehearses its symphony
crooked whispers of a flute
a glimpse of blue infinitude
quiets the confines of los alamos
¿quién es él? eso piensa
paralysis in the peristalsis
jewel in the vitreous humor
until it watercolors
the poison of psyche
papillae the plagues
oxidizing ash and ember
a quivering effigy
splinters the moon
the mirrored hand exhales
swept the epileptic ceiling
dissolving tendrils of mahogany
detached from the retina
tranquil, the deception
the film frame fades
captured in the mercury
Wolf's RainWolf's Rain9 years ago in Open More Like This
Snowflakes fall, blood is in the air,
Covering white figure of pride,
Lying forceless on the ground,
Having no strength to fight with the snow,
Nor even with reality,
Which drifts down from the empty sky,
Where the moon cannot be seen,
Where birds cannot be heard,
At which wolves can only howl.
existentialist pick ups...where have I been all my life?existentialist pick ups...5 years ago in Open More Like This
Vampires heartacheI awake in the night;Vampires heartache8 years ago in Open More Like This
I can no longer sleep.
I don't see myself in mirrors;
I see somebody else.
I am alone.
I am dead.
The red stripes on white flesh
Keep me somewhat Sane.
I stare at the ceiling;
It is as cold and dead as I am.
The pain burns within;
as my life slowly fades away.
ScrutinyAnd when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,Scrutiny5 years ago in Open More Like This
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
~ T.S. Eliot, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
I am going through the keyless gate
to watch and wait,
to wander here and there among the proud,
among the white and old whose wisdom rots, repressed, untold:
the soporific royals wreathed in leaves of gold.
And to them I shall read aloud from the Book,
read of the sins their lips have took
and upon me they shall look and patiently reflect
I am lost in my own depth, I will say
in a slight, impartial way
(for I lack violets and an antic princes love)
and they, floating through their channels deep
dare to drown me in my sleep and in their orisons remember
So shall I be a queen bone and ash,
of crawling worms and sullied, melting flesh.
Kissed by death, I shall burn upon a pyre
knowing only distance and desire and, rising from the fire,
I shall step with soft, unfettered feet
SuicideSuicide10 years ago in Open More Like This
I'm so sick of suicide
It's everywhere I look
Pictures, and in movies
In poetry and books
I'm so sick of suicide
It's pathetic and it's weak
Blah blah blah so awful
Outlook always bleak
This life's just not worth living
Could they be any more cliché'?
I know that I just can't go on
Isn't that what they say?
Do you live in China
Without freedom's basic choice?
Are you a woman in Afghanistan?
Forbidden to have a voice.
Are you starving now in Africa?
Surrounded by disease
Or under corrupt dictatorship
Forced upon your knees
These people rise to challenges
We cannot comprehend
They live their lives from day to day
And triumph in the end
But daddy won't buy me the car
He promised me last fall
Oh what now am I to do?
I'll have to end it all.
My girlfriend found another
She loves him more than me
I'll bleed until I'm empty
Then she'll finally see.
I'm so sick of suicide.
DyingEach day,Dying6 years ago in Open More Like This
I lose a
By the time
the god memorandumthe god memorandum9 years ago in Open More Like This
I hear your cry.
It passes through the darkness, filters through the clouds, mingles with starlight, and finds its way to my heart on the path of a sunbeam.
I have anguished over the cry of a hare choked in the noose of a snare, a sparrow tumbled from the nest of its mother, a child thrashing helplessly in a pond, and a son shredding his blood on a cross.
Know that I hear you, also. Be at peace. Be calm.
I bring thee relief for your sorrow for I know its cause ... and its cure.
You weep for all your childhood dreams that have vanished with the years.
You weep for all your self-esteem that has been corrupted by failure.
You weep for all your potential that has been bartered for security.
You weep for all your talent that has been wasted through misuse.
You look upon yourself with disgrace and you turn in terror from the image you see in the pool. Who is this mockery of humanity staring back at you with bloodless eyes of shame?
EmoEmo6 years ago in Open More Like This
Emo is black.
Emo is red.
Emo is a love of darkness,
But always needing some light.
Emo is the way you look,
But more the way you are.
Emo is resisting the world
Because you can't stand routine.
Emo is loving everyone you know,
Even if sometimes you wish they didn't exist.
Emo is hurting yourself or your body
When deep down you really love them both.
Emo is making your own choices,
While relying on your friends to make it through.
But really, emo is not caring how fucked up you are,
Cause there are so many friends just as fucked up as you.
Emo isn't hate.
Emo is love.
Procremationso he said let's make a babyProcremation9 years ago in Open More Like This
she said let's just make
and he said
What's the difference?
or a little pink pill
And he said
Isn't it about time... she said
You're never old enough
She said Make life-- make
If a Lion Could SpeakThe world churns this body,If a Lion Could Speak9 years ago in Open More Like This
has been my whitish ipecac,
like a big tongue in the gut,
has made me hurtle words.
I am a refinery, a plant that shits beauty.
Im tired and frightened, that is depression,
Ive said it before. Nothing is everything is love,
and no great love for the man inventing.
Touch me off, go back to the aether,
monkey fist, half-hitch, noose.
Love is a sandpaper, it smooths corners,
it bevels edges, it makes dust of us,
finally we go back to the wind.
Every ribcage is a ladder with rungs
of bone. Im glad Im thin
so I can count how high I have to go.
On the hunt, the devil grass hurts
my eyes. Id rather sleep,
Id rather yawn my children into petted being.
The thousand frights between
my lips have made such games
of ivory shaking in the voice of earth.
Down at the r
Karate-kaWe are the ones you'd least expectKarate-ka9 years ago in Open More Like This
to know anything of strategy or warfare.
We are the ones who never start fights,
But are quite willing to end them if need be.
We are not the trouble-makers in life,
But neither are we the straight-A students.
Some of us toe the line on issues more than others,
But for the most part, we blend in.
For all our camouflaging ways, however,
We are the ones who stand alone
Against the struggles of everyday life.
Some of us neither want, nor need, anyone to stand beside us.
We have our philosophies to keep us warm at night,
Our creeds to sing us to sleep.
Our weapons are our teddy-bears,
And our katas lead us to dream.
HeartlessHeartless6 years ago in Open More Like This
My friend - I move to speak,
For in you I shall confide,
Of an emptiness bore deep inside,
Shadows - where I hide.
How long has it been thus,
Since I was hence torn apart?
A being void in nothingness,
Lacking feeling of a heart.
Remnants of a shadowed past
Have drifted beyond the seal,
Yet forever locked away are those
Memories of how to feel.
Oh' how frail is the heart,
To collapse in the conquering fist!
Submit! unto that which bore you,
Darkness of the endless abyss.
And what remains born of this,
When darkness takes back the heart?
Only the nothing left behind,
Existing where nobody aught.
This nonexistence lay not within,
Supreme darkness - nor in the light,
But in the ever void - where lies,
A want for hearts taken flight.
The keepers of the want are naught,
The nonexistent ones.
Taking heartless - watching heartfelt won,
Keeping all - yet feeling none.
Deep within the realm of twilight,
Shadows of nobody - can you see?
In a world that never was,
I'm Not One of Those PeopleIve never been one of those peopleI'm Not One of Those People5 years ago in Open More Like This
that walks around the house naked
with the blinds open,
[tied up in knots by a
good (proper) upbringing].
Im not even one who walks
around naked with the
[someone might drop by and
In secret, I dream about
padding around the house in
the middle of the day
[in nothing but my
And maybe, just maybe,
Ill eventually work up
[to let the altogether you
walk around with me
until we find something
The Truth to LifeDo we have a purpose, is a question one will often askThe Truth to Life9 years ago in Open More Like This
Is there a higher power out there, some greater task
The truth will hurt many, not only a few
People have a hard time dealing with that which is true
There is nothing greater that watches your back
Deal with it, stop crying and build your own stack
You are responsible for the life that you lead
It is not someone else's fault when you don't get what you need
If one wants the stars, they must be grabbed by one's own hand
Nothing in life is freely given there is no promised land
So the question remains, why are we here
For those without faith, the answer is painfully clear
We live only for today and if we are lucky the morrow
To us there is no afterlife, but that brings us no sorrow
Self improvement is our main goal and it starts in the here and now
We refuse to be filled with illusions of grandeur and get fat off them like a cow
The best of us seek improvement in every area we can
Without the proper balance of self there can be no co
DoubtIf heavens allDoubt5 years ago in Open More Like This
that Ive been told
with gates of pearl
and streets of gold,
why did Satan
opt to flee
instead of yield
on bended knee?
Lone Wolf's CryYou walk alone,Lone Wolf's Cry6 years ago in Open More Like This
You are the Wolf that walks alone.
You have no friends, none of your kind,
Will there ever be a friend for you to find?
You walk in sadness, and despair,
No one to love you, anywhere.
The world is cruel,
The world is mean,
You walk alone,
This is your prayer,
A mournful song,
You have never had anywhere to belong.
This is your howl,
Your sad, sad cry.
Crying beneath the open sky.
Does anyone hear you?
Are you truly alone?
Does anyone care about you?
And your bitter moan?
Others walk for you not to find,
They dont care, they have peace of mind.
You walk alone on a desolate plain,
Will you ever have a home again?
Will anyone cry, weep, wail, or moan,
At the death of the Wolf that walks alone?