Your DoomedYour doomed now to enter the land of the dammedYour Doomed11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Your doomed now to follow the bark of the dark
It's the dawn of the demons
When days turn into night
The dawn of the demons
The decay of all light
The flames of hell shall rise
And burn the angels wing
Look into my demon eyes
Watch the death they bring
Hear the choir of demons sing
Angels of god ripped wing to wing
The coven's gathered, incarntations read
The virgin cries, let her blood run red
In the light of the candles she shall die
In the name of the devil she will die
Destruction, death and pain
The victims blood shall rain
The torment rises strong
In a grave i belong
Indulge in the art of profanity
Reject the word of the sacred one
Indulge in the art of blasphemy
Hail satan , let it be done
What if...What if you could do anything?What if...7 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Anything at all.
But only one thing.
What would you do?
Would you swim?
Would you dance?
Would you play?
Would you talk?
Would you make out?
Would you have sex?
Would you walk?
Would you run?
Would you jump?
Would you stare?
Would you flip?
Would you skate?
Would you write?
Would you read?
Would you listen to music?
Would you sing?
Would you cry?
Would you smile?
Would you laugh?
Would you rap?
Would you type?
Would you teach?
Would you surf?
Would you listen?
Would you look?
Would you think?
Would you shop?
Would you design?
Would you draw?
Would you drink?
Would you inhale?
Would you kill?
Would you heal?
Would you fall?
Would you smoke?
Would you get high?
Would you eat?
Would you pray?
Would you steal?
Would you ride?
Would you try to fly?
Would you work?
Would you race?
Would you drive?
Would you love?
Would you cartwheel?
Would you bike?
Would you sleep?
Would you run down a hill?
Cry For YouCry For You12 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Falling through the gaps of time.
Question what to live for.
Caught in my world of pretend.
Discovering what to die for.
Running desperately through soothing nightmares.
Asking what to lie for.
Breaking down all I ever had.
Wondering what to cry for.
Help me find a cure,
For my tragedy.
All this damn craving,
For a remedy.
Give me wings so I can fly,
And get far away from here.
All things I see are tainted,
Because it's me they're near.
Winding through the poison maze.
Gave up on what to live for.
Caught up in humanity's web.
Found out what to die for.
Analyze my surrounding world.
Can't see what to lie for.
Unable to rebuild myself.
Understand what to cry for.
Help me find a cure,
For my tragedy.
All this damn searching,
For a remedy.
Give me wings so I can fly,
And get far away from here.
All things I see are tainted,
Because it's me they're near.
Can't do this...
Won't do this...
What I missed...
All I did...
Just for you...
Just for this..
dragdrag11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Of anathematized eggheads, dead poets, uprooted saddle-tramps -
an eclectic shangri-la that impales itself upon her sensibilities
like a beached whale on her shore
And this cold, small man-
call him Animus Annihilated-
"You wanna see Heaven baby?, Here's your chance." -
An open invitation to cool her heels in
the shadow of his soul.
Hoodwinked by her own loathsome ideal
she ogles the out-side,
staring through the cigarette that drips from her mouth,
into her love's eye
SleepSleep12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a tsetse fly
drinks its next meal
the sun, newborn crying,
is sky ilk
a maze of feathery canopy;
the Bandundu forest,
gives birth to a
litter of bananas-
grass covered savannahs,
stubborn windblown maize
to the river, where
water walking fish farmer
casts a drowsy eye
on a school of tilapia
playing in his bamboo den;
a kihuta viper opens
its razor mouth
while decadent sockets,
hanging by swollen neck,
as he is carried to the garden.
like an old antelope
pulses, waiting to slip
into its last coma,
palm stem walls blanketing
the mind's catacombs
while your planted carcass watches
a tsetse fly
drink its next meal.
Sgt. DivineSgt. Divine11 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
A few of the men say this used to be a church, but it's hard to tell anything in this storm. We are pinned under a black and violent sky that has held us inside this crumbling room since we arrived yesterday morning. The water slides along the cracked ceiling and bombards us from different spots.
Captain tells us to keep our weapons dry, but he knows it's impossible. The floor clutches our boots with three inches of sucking wet mud. If the wind ever dies down we'll have a better look around this old place, but for now we just listen as it batters the trees into the stone.
None of us know how long we have to wait here. Captain says we are to protect this structure so our side can launch rockets from it if the war ever begins. Barnes says there isn't going to be a war. He says neither side is willing to start it; but here we are, drenched and freezing, just in case.
In the brief moments when the wind and rain pause we can hear the water trickling down through
Once...Once...12 years ago in Children and Teen More Like This
There was a world where all of the parents lied to their children. These were not hurtful lies though, but rather ones meant to comfort the children. Simply, when the child would lose something, a toy, a gift, a favorite animal, anything really, the parents would tell them "Somewhere, someone is caring and loving and cherishing it"
But slowly as the children grew older, some becoming parents themselves, they came to understand that it was not so.
Some were angry.
Some were sad.
Most were indifferent and assumed that they should do the same, that it was just what you told children.
One child, however, grew up still believing.
Though he understood that what he had been told wasn't true, he wanted to make sure that it would be true for everyone else.
And one day,
He began to collect little things here and there; books, necklaces, toy trains and little dolls. Everything he came across he kept and loved. Soon it took over his room and house and even his attic. So the man, getting a lit
prismatic rotationprismatic rotation11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
When I met her,
she was ice
that wasn't cold.
She was stone
that wasn't hard.
She was sour
that tasted sweet.
I gathered up
and put them in the car,
on the seat
next to me
and we drove -
on the wrong
of the road.
and at some point
I slammed my foot
on the brakes.
All of the hubcaps
and continued rolling
down the road
as if they were
to an invisible car.
into the distance
out of sight
trapped like ratstrapped like rats11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
every electric keyboard whine can be sublime
when mice eat cheese all night from silver dishes that
tickle their whiskers
and the rats will cringe from where they wait in the wings
with their hairy tails in traps,
"oh the tales we could tell, cos you see,
we used to get the cheese
back when the wurlitzer hum made the basement floor and
walls samba like a six-point-five somewhere along the
san andreas, bigger at the epicentre, yes,
don't you see now…"
yes, see now –
when your life story consists of bottomless lattes
and the hours you waste thinking on the years
you wasted getting the education you'll never use and for which
you didn't save the receipt so there's no return,
no refund or exchange;
all those little lives are gone like the will of mice
in traps when the top half of the cage
clangs down on the bottom and all that cheese just
rots in their stomachs like acid and they'd
rather be the rat –
"at least for
Wheel CountryWheel Country11 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
I imagine. I imagine I am hovering just below heaven, looking down on the earth lying quietly in the darkness of its own shadow. Looking down, hidden from the sun, to witness man discontent with the darkness, and his inventing of light. His fires, created or stolen from nature, the consequence of lightning and dryness, the divine manifestation of that singular holiness in the sky, broken off and fallen to earth as power and control, kept and reverently stoked, smoldering slowly in a sacred lacquered box, full of more problems than Pandora's.
I watch as man's fires flicker and expand into the darkness of the unknown, within which community is forged both to survive and enlighten, where language and, through language, art become the accidental occurrences of community, art then a consequence of survival. Watching as those fires are slowly tamed, flattened and thinned, poured like liquid lightning into tin containers and aluminum boxes, and flickers to life again in imit
Cliff NotesCliff Notes12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Cricket leg serenades
To this Asbach taste that veneers late Tuesday -
Companions to a cork parade
Of characters strolling through the vines;
Residential escape in charmed, young prime
Staving off charge of rolling night.
Fetch your pink,
From recessed cupboards, bottled up
To pour on ice.
Lay the tumbler to the coaster;
Watch condensation droplets
Pool into a question
The modern art above your bed
Grasping for tradition, well-kept
And bred in sound conditions;
A sieve that bled until she cried
From underneath those lines,
And you found heaven
Through that answer in her eyes
Shattering shock of matter melting,
Diluting tonight's pride and worth
As the minutes go by;
Leave rocks behind
To remind of true meaning -
Everything at home is everything that's right.
Why I want you to FAVWhy I want you to FAV12 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Why I want you to +fav this work.
If you +fav this work, your effort will give me an immense sense of well being.
I will feel that a part of my heart has been forever devoted to this piece. For each and every soul that believes, \"this deserves a +fav\" I will grow ever happier. My view will become ever more optimistic and hope for the future will be installed within me.
My outlook on life will be like that of a sun coming out from behind a cloud, getting brighter and warmer with every second elapsed. I will forget my worries, my bad memories, my aches and pains, I will drop my chains. For each and every +fav will free me from an unwanted displeasure. Turning me into a new and better person.
My favourite saviours shall lighten my burden and relieve me from stress, they will give life reason and effort purpose. The satisfaction of a job well done becoming proven fact
The rain is stopping my friends, the clouds are dispersing. The thunder is now only a faint rumble and lightning is no mo
january.january.11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
So I guess this is where I left my life...
I walk to the old spot where we used to go,
and sit alone in the corner...
watching my breath dissapear in front of me.
I still remember that night in January
We were both so cold but we didn't care...
All we wanted was an hour to ourselves
to get away from the rest of the world
with their stares and taunts.
Now I return to this place
for an hour without you
Our laughs still echo off the walls as I sit here.
Head in hands I begin to cry,
and I hear us whisper to each other in the dark...
"I love you."
"I love you too."
I scream out to God
but I get no reply.
I guess even He is too busy to talk to me tonight.
This was our secret place,
a place full of memories,
of secrets that will stay locked inside my heart forever,
a place haunted by a love that never had the chance to grow...
But now it is back to what it always was.
An old abandoned building,
cold concrete floors.
I get up and begin searching for our love among the dead leave
Final ThoughtsFinal Thoughts12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I could repent my dissent and prevent my descent
but I meant to pretend in the end, it made sense.
But the end should have come a long time ago,
we both just held on, although we both know
that we are no longer two peas in a pod,
two bees with a job, you see it's just wrong.
I can't be the guy who just cheers from the yard,
invite me inside, you'll see it's not hard.
My love was a gift, I gave it to you,
my hopes and my dreams, betrayed them for you.
Yes we are different, from two separate worlds,
with you being highbrow and me being poor.
You told me "no matter, I could care less",
now three years gone, it's all a fair mess.
It really does hurt me, although I can't show it.
I really do love you, although you can't know it.
All that I wanted was more of your time,
I loved being with you relaxed and reclined.
Just hearing you breathe was plenty for me,
but you wanted silence, no petting from me.
I guess in the end all our differences won,
so go with the moon, I'll stay for the sun...
Lonely WatcherLonely Watcher11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I hate just standing there
watching relationships fall
Though i like being involved in the tears
The fights, the drama it isn't too much at all
Maybe because i know
i'll never have what they have
There must be something wrong with me
Did i go down the wrong personality path?
They act like it's nothing
to have someone to hold
even though i wish i had
Some guy to keep me warm when it's cold
I guess i need to finally learn
that i'm just unwanted
To be a guys "best friend"
A lonely life to me i'm haunted
PalestinePalestine9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Homes being torn down
to make room for better people
It starts with a family still inside
As the tank moves
a small boy starts to cry
The fear chokes him
He goes blind
The older boy who escaped
tries to defend his home
throwing rocks at the tank
He is seized by men with AKs
The fear chokes him
wetness drips down his pants
A man teaches his son to pray
in the house of God
until tanks surround them
and soldiers destroy the peace
Three laugh as they fire their weapons
at the son
The father stands over his limp body
in a last act of defiance
More bullets fly, hitting mosaics on the wall
spelling "God, the most merciful" in flowing Arabic script
One shot missed, he's paralyzed
more laughing as another hits its target
in between his eyes
He falls over his son
This is Palestine
This is Hell
The Tattered FairyThe Tattered Fairy11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I opened the door in answer to a knock,
And seeing who stood there gave me such a shock,
For it was a fairy, looking all forlorn,
Her appearance was dirty, tattered and torn.
Her shoes were dusty, her hair a tangeled mess,
She had knots in her ribbon, and rips in her dress,
Her face was smudged, her lips cracked and dry,
Her wings were so tattered, she never would fly.
She spoke softly and kindly, so I listened well,
For she had some very bad news to tell,
"Your garden needs you" she quietly said.
I knew what was coming and listened with dread.
"There is no grass, the ground is dust,
Planting some lawn is an absolute must.
The flowers that bloom, are choked by weeds,
Pull them all out, get rid of them please.
The roses are overgrown, and pull at my hair,
If you cut them back, more buds will grow there.
The plants are thirsty, its water they need,
And the fuscias would flourish with a really good feed."
Then she gave a little wave, and was gone from my sight,
I thought of her words, and
...red......red...11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The colour of war
Is still the colour of love,
The colour of healing
Is the colour of blood,
It's the colour of unity
That drives us apart,
The colour of your anger
Is the colour of my heart.
It's the colour of warmth
That is so deathly cold,
It's the colour of fear
That's so vibrant and bold,
It's riddled with pleasure,
Still the colour of pain,
It's that feeling when sunshine
Turns into rain.
It's the feeling of beauty
That has turned into hate,
It's the colour of impulse
That's encouraged by fate.
It's such a truthful colour,
Makes your heart want to fly...
So don't blame this colour
For the times that you've lied.
happy valentines day 2005.
nova smilenova smile11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
6am: Rising to crackled reception,
this, the mimicked serenade to sunrise,
performed the whole world over.
8am: In the kitchen,
and a coffee cup
invite me to breakfast.
I count morning on both hands,
four espresso ribbons,
draped over the pages,
filling where ink cannot.
12pm: I lie on the small square of grass
looking up into the apex of cerulean.
Up on the gutter,
sits a bird, still,
below thick down,
ticks suck out birdsong.
one of quiet tragedy.
3pm: In the supermarket
I watch people stocking up,
New Orleans MinuteNew Orleans Minute11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Time sashays like a creole strumpet,
barefoot and brown down Rue Madeleine
past this window, this table,
where gumbo steams and shrimp tails
clutter my plate.
A molasses haze fogs the lamplight.
A young man too full of libation
succumbs to this damp heat,
bent nearly double,
splatters his feet.
A coasting cabbie slows to say,
Laissez le bon temps rouler
and laughs until his brakelights fade.
-Who are your true friends?--Who are your true friends?--Who are your true friends?-8 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Tell me, who are they?
How do you know they are your true friends?
Do you know?
Care for you?
Listen to you?
Always be there for you?
Never turn their backs on you?
Stick up for you?
Be true to you?
Be real to you?
Do your friends do any of this?
Your true friends
They are the ones who shine through the crowd
They are the ones who know what to say
They are the ones who will be there day by day
They are the ones who don't give up on you
They are the ones you can count on
They are the ones you can always trust
They are the ones you can talk to and feel at ease
They are the ones you can go to when you are in trouble
They are the ones you can look up too
They are the ones you are close too
So tell me?
Do you really know who your true friends are?
Do you honestly do?
Can you sit here and tell me yes with a straight face?
OR are you going to mask it up with bullshit?
I think it's time we becareful who we choose as true friends
Awake Under the BlanketsAwake Under the Blankets11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Closer to darkness than anticipated,
the shadows breach the wall and slip
across the carpet.
With childish certainty the danger slides
and toils and bristles with thorns and eyes,
and eyes peer out from under sheets.
Magic never stood the test of time,
but clutching teddy close
prevents a mind spilling into tears.
Evil stalks on spindle legs
grown knobby and buckled through age,
the weight of slushy ooze a challenge.
Ears pick out the smacking of lips,
a meal made of child on the menu,
the slither of entrails never tucked in.
Move and be found, the little boy lost
inside the mind of an adult left to think,
quake with unease, but barely breath in truth.
While eager tentacles fumble with claws
made scratchy through crushing babies bones,
a pulse throbs under the blankets.
Catch the glow beneath sleeping cloth,
the torch bulb switched to combat fear,
and see the throwing off of covers.
The monster reels, flailing parts unknown,
descending the stair that waits in silence
at the back of the
You Are On My MindWhat am I to do now, I'm confused and lostYou Are On My Mind7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I would sacrifice all no matter the cost
Just for an answer of any kind from you
Silence hurts worse then broken bones do
Laying here thinking about what to say next
Not sure what to write, my mind perplexed
Passion burns through me like wildfire
You are my one and only worldly desire
Heart racing when you jump into my mind
My thoughts and feelings cannot be defined
Pounding Blood rushes through my skin
Claws of Love won't stop digging in
-Silence--Silence--Silence-8 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
It's so quiet, it's so peaceful..
Looking out the window, the skys are clear.
The stars light up the sky, followed by the moon light.
Sitting on my bed, thinking in solitude.
Silence, has taken over.
So quiet, not a voice to be heard.
No one around you, just you and your shadow.
Open up your journal, write a poem.
Pen on paper, words come out.
Putting your thoughts out for all to see.
Another chapter in your life has been written down.
So soothing, so calming, letting it all out.
It's a release!
Plauging thoughts, rage no more.
Out of your head, a burden is gone.
Sweet silence, for you to enjoy.
The moon light shines in the window.
Ilumminating, you and your journal.
It's your only light for this night.
No lamp, no overhead.
Just you and sweet silence.
The night seems never ending.
Hours and hours, the moon stays up.
Skys stay dark, stars still bright.
It's as if time has stopped.
No one around you, no one can hear you.
In your peaceful solitude.
Sweet silence, takes you away