We Are Prostitutes And JunkiesThe ribbon binding our cervical ribs together
is resolved fire and
quantum mechanics wrapped in beat-one-egg-until-fluffy.
Cut your teeth on my frightened way of life,
point fingers at the spiders in my closet,
I told you
together we could divide the universe by zero
and find the answer in the rubble.
But I was too delirious
to write down the name on my night-stand,
so I might have been wrong.
Forewarning was rolled off my shoulders
and picked up by the orphans
who wanted to have a life,
and yesterday I found
why I must listen.
are no more entrancing than my sighs, you said.
The sway of her fiending lusts
held no ground, you said.
But I told you poets never find
Strangers tell me I should eat more,
the world is not nearly as revolting as I write it;
I told you the sun would swallow us up one day
and you asked
what became of my opium laced assumptions.
The Room In The CityLately, the drinking's been getting worse.The Room In The City4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
I spend most of my time sitting in my room reading Nietzsche.
The voices have been talking louder, shouting, screaming at me.
I am fascinated by the simplest of things; the turn of the washing machine, the grain of wood.
I can never stop thinking, about all the little things and about how they don't matter. How nothing matters.
I lie in bed talking to all the people who never were, listening to the music no one's ever played.
My body is a piano, full of black keys only. I am in a country where everyone's face is different from mine, and language is the act of not speaking, and noise is everywhere in the air we breathe. I am doing what the Romans do in Rome; I am trying to communicate but no one has told me that these people cannot hear.
I don't speak anymore.
Lately I've been having dreams where they ask so many questions I can't answer, that I never speak again.
Becoming InhumanI want to scream in colours.Becoming Inhuman4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My words would be painted in blood;
your blood to be exact.
Every vulgar, unfaithful ounce of it,
But you'd bleed for anyone.
You'd die for anyone
You knew this was sacred.
Bodies maimed and desecrated
But when I cut into the skin,
It was no suprise to find
Wires had replaced your veins.
Nothing VictoriousI saw a new universe begin with a dream,Nothing Victorious4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
there was no one else around to notice the difference;
The others, having followed pied pipers for years,
remained motionless, as they had been processed
and were now all plastic icons of Jesus, resting on pallets,
ready to be shipped to China.
They screamed, uttered "Mama," and sometimes
shouted obscenities at the Holy Father,
while in the distance, the occasional bleats of
black sheep told me to stop counting my
blessings and begin noticing the near future.
I looked and saw a white horse, and sitting on
its back was Nothing.
And Nothing told me about his plan:
Nothing will bring order, Nothing will erase our history,
Nothing will make us forget all we've done, and learned.
I climbed on the white horse, and I rode away
with Nothing, heading toward the sunset, where I,
along with Hatred, Bigotry, Greed, Pride, and so on,
perished with the final setting of the sun,
following to the east, the dawn of humanity.
The Society and The IndividualI was born independent and the biggest mistake I ever made was falling into the arms of society. Free will has become an option, and that is where we have all lost ourselves. You can either choose to live, or avoid the things you will never know by experiencing things at your own discretion.The Society and The Individual5 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
We are the creator of our own lives.
The Former And The LatterI want to have a child, who asks me what war was.The Former And The Latter4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
How to Forget.I think the high is setting inHow to Forget.4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Because the lights aren't any dimmer
But I can't see you.
My eardrums are still in tact
But I can't hear you.
And I'm in no state to judge my mentality,
But I can at least hope that I'm not going insane.
cup of coffee Your coat is draining in water and your curly thick black locks are powdered with yet undissolved snowflakes. That coat, that hideous coat. I'd told you before how much I hated it.cup of coffee5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
For some hidden reason she looks lovely on you today. She dresses your body like an armor of some kind of bohemian knight. Just like I used to when I would spoon you in your sleep, keeping you warm and safe from the vicious dark until the dawn would break.
She must be your new mistress, desperately trying to hide your murderer body from the stains of blood on your shirt when you staggered my soul with those six little words:"I don't love you any more".
Your dumb look kind of upsets me. It's just like you have thought I would cling to your neck and angrily kiss you for a last time, begging in my guts that I will sip your soul out of that hollow cage of yours you call bo
Death.It took some timeDeath.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
To convince myself
That you don't exist.
The sadness that secretly consumed you.
Everything that made you,
The fear in your eyes,
The cuts on your body,
Hands clenched, gasping for air while
The drugs soared through your veins;
All of that was real?
The smile that could span miles,
The glazed eyes that told so many stories,
The creative mind that once captivated the world
And all that's left are the memories
That torture, consume and, on occasion,
Bring joy to my mind.
It's all surreal,
But I'm beginning to believe it's true.
You're forever in my memory;
But I've come to accept the fact
That you don't exist.
Painting FeelingsMy tears run down like razor bladesPainting Feelings4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
carving numbers to my cheeks,
many tears along the week
have now turned to scars,
numbers getting higher
emotions turning sour
they represent the days
that I pass without you
See the sadness you drew,
on my foreign face?
Feel my shame
embrace my pain
Isolated in this desert
with the absence of time
damages my fragile mind
for I feel like sand
slowly slipping into air
Could you pretend to care?
at least I'd believe that
look what you've done
...com'on, say you've won...
Lost in the abyss of your heart
I've been condemned to sadness,
never thought it'd end like this
...I feel so cold
loneliness eats my insides
leaving no place to hide
I wish this didn't happen
can't you erase my memory..?
wipe away all melancholy...
The dumbing down of loveface stained, just as well as the heartThe dumbing down of love4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
things have been turning out all wrong
leaving the lover alone without love
under the knife
"remove my heart! i don't want it without him!"
ardor, slipped away at the seams
all when you thought that your love
was the center of all that ever meant anything
choking on the instant escape
that he left you
you are lost.
your limbs, jello, giving way
to the weight that's heavy in your heart
collapsing your vocal cords so you
no longer have to speak what
100ThemesChallenge - DarkDoesn't everything seem more real in black and white photos? That's because the world's losing it's colour.100ThemesChallenge - Dark4 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
The Dirty Little SaviourYou're wrong, my love; it's when I'm completely sober that I'd like to blow my brains out to make it stop. Delusion is little price to pay for life.The Dirty Little Saviour4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
thunder in your eyesDear whispers,thunder in your eyes5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
have you ever listened to the starlight? i can hear her sing of things i'd never dreamed of. she told me that she woke up to the most beautiful shade of bruised purple against stark white in the sunset splattered sky. i just thought you should know. i miss watching her with you.
on Sunday mornings i bring myself to wake up like an early bird and stare into the mirror. and i look and tell myself the same story I've told to myself for a long time but never to anyone else. that I am the boy of six feet tall. my mother worked as a nurse in this emergency office that would often be the only lit room in the whole town. of small age I've seen scars and cuts, blood, and more blood. smelled death and sterile hospital spray, heard gruesome words and desperate muttering of prayers which seemed to me, have never done any real practical good to the suffering. my dad has gone to live is rich but fucked up life somewhere across the world an
And Tonight My Prayer Was XIIIAnd tonight my prayer was:And Tonight My Prayer Was XIII4 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
You once asked me: "Why do you look to the ground when you walk?"
"So I can see where I am treading." I said. "Why do you look to the sky?" I, equally bemused.
With a smile you reply "So I can see where I'm going."
a little bita little bit of red in your cheeksa little bit4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you'll never know how much you mean to me
a little bit of blonde in your hair
you'll never know how much i'd like to be there
a little bit of a skip in your walk
you'll never know how my heart flutters when you talk
a little bit of warmth in your voice
you'll never understand how loving you was less than a choice
a little bit of sun on our skin
you'll never know how i could never love again
a little bit of a smile when we kiss
you'll never remember how much we felt bliss
a little bit of affection in your eyes
you'll never know what its like to see you kiss other guys
a little bit of the night in your arms
you'll never understand that without you my world would be more than harmed
a little bit of the night on my own
you'll never know what i feel like alone
a little bit of stars in the sky
you'll never know that i'll miss you, until i die
little piece of your heartshiver and shakelittle piece of your heart4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
quiver and quake
sometimes i wonder when i will ever wake
eyes wide open to the naked blue abyss
in which i desired to drown all the tears and fears
i have gathered among the years i have spent
trying to remember why i continued breathing
in and out the toxins of unrequited emotions
you can place a little piece of your heart into everyone's pockets
but that sliver of sentiment never means anything... at least from you anyways
peel back your forgotten flesh to reveal the memories you buried in your stolen mind
hopelessly ready for a perpetual state of dreams where He loves you
and you don't even know whom He is yet
fever for the fake
no antidote for the ache
i n f i n i t eThe last thing that I thought about before the car hit me on that rainy day where Clara's eyes, those eyes that could take me to any other place than I was right now. They could take me to the bluest ocean, where the millions of bubbles tickled my skin and moved through my hair as they made their way to the surface. They could take me high above the treetops, where time would almost seem to stop as every single square inch of my body tried to absorb the beauty around me. They could take me through the Milky Way, watching the stars shoot by and lighting up my eyes as they took my breath away. Yes, it was Clara's eyes that could take me a million places, and it was Clara's eyes that I thought about in the last moments of my life. It was with Clara's eyes that I grew my wings and learned to fly. Will I ever regret that it was her who occupied the last few seconds of my short lived life? No, I never will. And one day when she joins me I'll be able to tell her how it was only her eyes thati n f i n i t e4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
100ThemesChallenge - LoveDespite what people may think, not all guys wants a stick thin barbie doll with a fake smile and dull eyes. I like girls who curve. Girls who when you put your arms around her, feel like they fit perfectly against your chest, not like you're hugging a stick. Homely girls. The ones that wear soft cotton shirts and sweaters, and have a warm smile and eyes you can get lost in. The ones that walk around with a smudge of flour or toothpaste or paint on their shirt all day because they haven't noticed or just don't care. The ones whose apple-vanilla smell you could recognise from across the room, but still never becomes mundane. The ones who, when you curl up with her, no matter where you may be, it feels like Home.100ThemesChallenge - Love4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
It's all over us.In the end it's nothing, just another flaw to judge you by when you die. It's like the devil is taking tallies of the things you felt and did and is plotting them against you in your final resting hour.It's all over us.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Some enjoy living in the shadows.. under that ever pouring gray sky. Deeper and deeper into the chaos and darkness.. until we get so caught up in hurting, that all that's left of us is cold flesh and empty eyes.
Friend. I've see this look before, so clearly in the mirror. I can't say I didn't enjoy the pain. But oh those moments when gray was my favorite color.. I couldn't help but to add some red for dramatics.
Maybe it's the artist in me, couldn't stop the perfect angle, couldn't stop the madness inside from boiling over. Still plotting against the raging twisted emotions inside.
Say friend, is this the final hour? When I can't stop to see you trying to smile.. when I can't stop to try and smile back? What time is this that disillusions and mist implore and raging winds cast us ashore
Poetry For WomenPoetry is for womenPoetry For Women4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Or at least that's what I've been told
By many men.
Poetry is for girls
Or at least that's how it's sold
To us, when we are children.
Poetry is soft
And often elegant
In a word it is not -
Fine for a time as nursery rhymes -
Read in cribs to teething screaming things;
Who innocence makes androgynous.
Poetry is not read -
In red red racecar beds.
Instead we're taught to think
That poetry is pink.
Poetry is pretty proper and fancy;
It will almost surely be thought of
As a lady.
Poetry is what may be
The poetry I have written
For and about women -
Will be read by men who understand it.
I will still write poetry
The Girl At Last CallYou know that girl, the one at last call.The Girl At Last Call4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Crying in her first drink, cause he bought them all.
She feels rejected, beaten and lost,
But within her is something for you to find.
You know that girl, the one in the hall.
Heart in her locker, his card on her wall.
She's acting for them, for you and for me.
Even she doesn't know what's in her to see.
You know that girl, that beautiful doll.
Really she's broken, but still smiles for all.
She knows it's over, he's gone and moved on.
But she hopes every day, still meets every dawn.
Each day she wakes up and begins to crawl.
Each night she's back and again starts to bawl.
Remember that moment, I know it feels new.
That day you told her that you were through.
You know that girl, the one you should call.
She still misses you, your card's on her wall.
You bought her a drink, each night bought them all.
You were her fix and she was your doll.
You know that girl, the one you watched fall.
You played her, you know it. Do you care at all?
If not then
ReflectionMy eyes are daggers stabbing my reflection in the waterReflection4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I hate you, I hate me
Who is that hideous man looking back at me?
What does he want with me?
I've got a smile that needs work because it's never right
The only person I can make direct eye contact with is my reflection
My hair never quite looks right
I have to try to walk confidently
I can never feel good enough -- for anything
There's always too much or never enough
I can't stand these mirrors
But I can't possibly be wrong
It's not another bad day, it's my everyday
I lost the magic when the last autumn leaves fell
My life ended when the last snowflake perished on the asphalt
Sun's don't shine in this world
My life's just out of line
And I can't help but breakdown and cry
My mind is a hurricane without a calm aftermath
How am I to carry on?
I curl up in bed every night
I'm thinking about the should-have-been
The night is never long enough
I'm not ever going to speak the same way again
And when the next day starts, she won't
Her SongI'm like a song without a melody,Her Song4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a chord without the notes,
a lyric without the words,
a rhythm without a beat.
I'm a piano without white notes,
a guitar without strings,
a flute without holes,
a drum without the sticks,
Yet then you made me part of your musical dreams,
a harmonic note in your melody,
the missing instrument of your band...
And then, you sang me out loud,
Beacause, I'm the most important word of your song...
Music Was her Lifelinewrapped in broken wings tinged with black,Music Was her Lifeline5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she chose darkness, didn't believe she could go back.
she thought that once there was blood spilled
all her dreams would be left, unfulfilled.
She huddled under her warm covers at night,
The only place she could cry out of sight.
Everyday she wore a mask of strength,
stopping the tears not a moment to late.
Every night when she gave in and began to weep,
All she could do was sing herself to sleep.
It was the only place she truly felt secure,
as she sang in a voice that was sweet and pure.
As the lyrics began to work there magic,
suddenly, things weren't so tragic.
She could almost believe that things would be okay,
that the world might be more than just black and gray.
Music became her lifeline, the only thing that kept her trying,
it was a want, a need, the only thing that could stop the crying.