Words and WeaponsYour words are powerless here.Words and Weapons3 years ago in Horror More Like This
Every syllable you mutter is a pointless charade;
Words will not change you.
They will not change us.
Simple text and gospel praise,
as vile and useless as the parasites who exhale them,
stain the truth about words:
Words are nothing against true change.
Speech will not change the world;
that's the job for a firing line of hot lead.
Nothing But Wastes - A Humorous Interlude"Why did you kill him?"Nothing But Wastes - A Humorous Interlude3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"He attacked me."
"You attacked all of them."
"I'm sorry "
"He was my brother, you know."
"I know "
"Why didn't you kill me?"
I woke abruptly to a loud chirping sound. Not surprisingly, it wasn't any sort of foul or mutated beast creeping up on us to devour our flesh, but just an innocent bird. Its song carried loudly through the dark halls of its new home.
It hopped about, occasionally pecking at the ground, for a piece or crumb that wasn't there. You knew food was short when even a little bird couldn't find a speck of calories to ingest. It's scrawny build and tattered feathers only reminded me of myself; Battered, bruised and hungry.
We all had it bad, even the birds.
But, even like the starving creature, we found ways to scrape by. We always managed to scrounge up a crumb or dented can to get us through the next day. We always had hope, and motivation, to carry on. Keeping our minds off the horrors of our world wasn't any easy task,
footprints some days you are absent,footprints3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and i sit waiting even if i know, that although
your bike is parked at the usual spot,
you'll be nowhere to be seen.
i never ask where you've been.
maybe you found a place where heartbeats sound
like autumn leaves swirling in the wind.
maybe you just couldn't face me.
and you wear silence like a wedding gown,
soft silk sewn together with a brutal honesty.
there is no going back.
(she threw her regrets off a mountain, memories
carving their way through the cold stone, slowly forming
and now she feels no thirst, only
a longing slowly drowning her.)
in the end, you had to face me.
we sat on a beach, your fingers drawing patterns in the sand,
mine clutched around a seashell.
"we're only a bike ride away from extinction,"
you said, "and you're too slow, always
caught in the invisible ink printed on my eyelids."
i borrowed your silence,
HomelessI sit with the snickersnack sound of them passing,Homeless3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
The globberwalk gait of the rich and the round.
They try not to notice,
Avoiding the gaze,
Of the homeless skeletitude state of malaise.
Give me more than your gloating disdain,
Your stenchweaving haste, ignores all the pain.
My empty existance,
Some throw me some change,
For easing their conscience, then scuttle away.
The government henchweasles move me along,
I roam into doorways where I don't belong,
But none are now open,
For embarassment clings,
To dirty carbunctuous shambling things.
How can you not realise that you could be me,
You were born lucky, your choices were free.
But I was spawned in a pit of no hope,
With the hands of addiction,
Wrapped round my throat.
So slither on blindly, for you dont want to see,
That only good fortune makes you different from me.