Post some poetry!

[Crono]

A Burning

you can smell it in the air
a turning of trees
and a burning of leaves
our friend and enemy
a build up tryst
inwards and outwards
forcing a bend in the fire lights
around to blaze and find
hide and kind
the little girl who looks out
thru make-up scarred pupils
onto a burning of leaves

[Apart]

Originally posted by strange_one

you're the only motherfucker here that can trully appreciate decent poetry, without all of this pussy wipe dramatic horse shit involved. what a bunch of whiny pansy asses. grow some imaginations and stop feeling sorry for yourselves.

*props to the condom bearer*

[Lie]

Gothic Flint

I think your rippling flesh might burn
When the sun lashes you with its cat-o'-nine tails.
I get to come here every Thursday
when he takes me after school --
It's a consolation for the divorce,
A fair exchange for all I care.

Black throbbing heart,
no one ever had to urge you on.
I don't have to kick you,
my heel thudding on a dead body,
The coil of your life stretches far beyond my eye's reach
and snaps back, setting you off in a swirl.
They try to catch you but you're beyond them already,
jerking the reins from my icy fingers.
I breathe in the intoxicating smell of leather,
Of summer horse sweat.
I'm afraid but a little laugh
Comes peeling off inside me like a wood shaving.
You feed my faith.

The world under its dirty snatches of snow
Is you and I, incognito, it has always been,
just hiding, in the places where my hands
melt into your shoulders.
We are snapped off this tired earth
like a piece of peanut brittle.
I close my eyes and wait for your hooves
To unshackle themselves from the ground.

Suddenly I lie on my side and taste spring
While you barrel over my upturned face
Like a passing storm, leaving me
A lifeless rag doll.

There's nothing to do but get up and limp back.
He'll buy me another piece of candy to suck on,
another consolation.
I'll pretend to sleep in the back seat
While I smell my jacket for you,
Taste the sweet blood marks on my palms.
I was so scared,
I may have just stopped living then.

My high school attempt at outdoing Sylvia Plath's "Ariel," another poem about, more or less, falling off a horse.

[Lie]

What I Hear When I’m Asleep (Or Pretending To Be)

Hey hello are you awake? No?
Are you listening to me? All right.
Then let me tell you something.
You are the queen of Philadelphia.
And you are coming out to be crowned
before the crowd, and let me tell you,
they LOVE you.

a green plastic watering can

Greg, you’re gonna have to talk into her ear
if you’re going to mess with her dreams.

for a fake Chinese rubber plant

I AM talking into her ear.
Dear, you are the Queen,
and not just of Philadelphia at that.
Why, you can have it all:
Pittsburgh, Toronto (all of Canada for that matter),
Detroit if you feel so inclined.

in fake plaaaaaaastic earth

Greg, it’s not gonna work.
You have to speak directly into her ear.

a green plastic watering can

I am speaking directly into her ear.
Hello? You are walking out before the crowd
and now they have just crowned you
with a beautiful diamond tiara.

for a fake chinese rubber plant

I don’t think it’s working Greg.

in fake plaaaaaaaaastic earth

my fake plaaaaaaaaaaastic love

A spur of the moment autobiographical poem by yours truly. Lyrics courtesy of some band.

[Lie]

Sunday. A drop of water on the edge of the roof.
It hides itself with a smile, wanting you
to think everything's okay.
It hangs shivering, about to fall
and fill the ocean of tomorrow.

Monday. Blank. A dose of sleeping pills
to recover from the past week.
So lethargic that it does not care
that no one cares.
It's covered in a blanket the color of morning.

Tuesday. Beautifully in synch with its own drumbeat,
It's a faultless pause in the middle of nowhere,
A dream washed bare by reality.
It sits on a bench
with its neurotic eyes wide open.

Wednesday. It leaps off your tongue like hot ashes.
Something vicious is at work here.
It's wicked and haunting like Halloween.
The rest of the week has to cross its eyes
to look at you.

Thursday. Here is comes, plodding humbly
in Friday's famed footsteps,
ashamed that it is not something great itself.
Jealous and clumsy,
it's the older ugly sister.

Friday. More of a fragment than anything else
and lighter than the air it flies in.
It's an empty skin. The crowd cheers it on
to eat less and less, like an anorexic.
One of these days, it will be gone altogether.

Saturday. It tastes better when it's dull
and eaten slowly.
Its touch takes a while to register
in your numb fingertips.

This was a poem born of an exercise. I think it turned out pretty well for what it is.

[Lie]

Accord

The first notes
Of Beethoven's "Fur Elise"
Drop to a dark strain
That repeats so often
It resembles air.
In the middle it suddenly stops
And slims to a single note,
A low A, pulsing over and over
Until you feel
That the beginning must have been a mistake.

This is the beginning, the first imperfection,
Like the new heart of an illegitimate child,
A miracle of mistakes, and this is where
I come in, playing this piece
I never had the patience for when I was younger,
When I yearned for the time I could make
The handfuls of melody,
Those awful sophisticated spiders,
Obey at last.

This is the beginning, as with no warning,
The continuous note
Rises a half-step, staggering to its feet,
The flat of the B grinning
Like the flat of a knife blade,
Suspended from its stem like a teardrop,
A heart severely changed
By what it has lost.

[Crono]

A Cold Dark Place (Requiem)

Sometimes I wonder into blasphemy
and counter-culture with feathers sheen
Grass sits idle as an eruption
flowing like stopped rivers restarted

And I remembered today
that the drama and sentiments,
sediments in our lake,
are all here in full force

You couldn't ask me if you tried
It's not anything I know anymore
You couldn't ask me if you tried
You tried
and, like I told you from the beginning,
you tried so I failed

[slugger]

my nuts always are itching
females always be bitching
i rub on their ass
they steal all my cash
these whores just enjoy anal fisting


im broke in the pocket broke in the heart
ripped apart my heart stabbed it with a dart
from the start i was nothing but a piece of shit
poor idiot street legit bitch a fit nuthing with
a foodstamp under the street lamp cheap tramp
jawbone acts like a dick clamp
teethmarks foreskin then again sexual sin
payed for cheap whore bustin nuts all up in
her skin bubbling satan got a brimstone cock
the antichrist getting sucked when his drawers dropped
but you can't understand it criminal bandit
pitchfork and brimstone left the whore branded
with the sign of beast at least when you deceased
you ain't gotta pay these whores to fuck between the sheets

[KrazeeStacee]

#1
I’m digging up my body,
Lost beneath the Earth.
I’m digging up my soul,
Questioning what its worth.
I’m digging up my destiny,
Hoping I will see.
I’m digging up my own thoughts,
Finally set them free.
I’m digging up my lover,
Will he let me down?
I’m digging up my grave,
I’ve been buried in the ground.
#2
You are the innocence no one ever sees
You are the voice begging the killer “please!”
You are the mouse caught in the trap
You are the moment of silence before the impact
You are the lost hope of my lost baby
You are the bright eyes when I say maybe
You are the wishes that always come true
You are the reason why I wish for you.

[Samsa]

Originally posted by Lie
Accord

The first notes
Of Beethoven's "Fur Elise"
Drop to a dark strain
That repeats so often
It resembles air.
In the middle it suddenly stops
And slims to a single note,
A low A, pulsing over and over
Until you feel
That the beginning must have been a mistake.

This is the beginning, the first imperfection,
Like the new heart of an illegitimate child,
A miracle of mistakes, and this is where
I come in, playing this piece
I never had the patience for when I was younger,
When I yearned for the time I could make
The handfuls of melody,
Those awful sophisticated spiders,
Obey at last.

This is the beginning, as with no warning,
The continuous note
Rises a half-step, staggering to its feet,
The flat of the B grinning
Like the flat of a knife blade,
Suspended from its stem like a teardrop,
A heart severely changed
By what it has lost.

yeah. heh.

[Smiley33]

early morning suicide

our death and rebirth fitting cleverly
between worn pages of paperback books
and living sometimes (happily?) within, to
age among altered states
we are still young. but only in time;
for we have offered up our very souls
to watch this life become the saddest satire
and thus (here) we die with each inhale
and dare to laugh with each exhale.
you see, with one heavy breath
the world could crumble (here, before us)
and we would not blink an eye.

[Shattered]

I've come to flirt with Suicide
The rules of Death - I won't abide
From pain is pleasure - that I will feel
By the end of life to Death I'll kneel

- Rocky Tuvera

[slugger]

if my brains blew out and gone are you gonna miss me?
like every bullet so far and every girl that tried to kiss me
i'm gone mentally and gone physically so death is living in me
i'm pessimisticly ticking wishing my body was statiscily
recorded in the morgue and in the graveyard so far
im helpless like a retard praying life wasn't so hard
but every breath of oxygen i take in tells me there's no god
and ain't no love but the lust keeps my dick hard like a rod
the female bod is so beautiful to me
but it's hard to say i love you truthfully
i could be smoking newports but they're heavily taxed
so i sit back relax inhale the anthrax whites and blacks
latinos and chinese family crying praying on their knees
prayin to god for strength please
brain matter scattered at 360 degrees
and i could care less about another death
so go to war and catch two in the head one in the chest
go to hell and talk to satan face to face in the flesh
and you'll see another scrub that was never showed love
burning flesh and you know there ain't no god above
and the shit fit tight just like OJ's glove
ain't no peace cause ozzy bit the head off the dove
ain't light shining and when it does it's blinding
live in the dark in the shadows nobody's minding
so fuck everyone that breathes in my oxygen
born into sin so let my fucking hatred begin

Milwaukee 11:32 PM

Sirens outside
Like lillies for the lost and broken
I wish they knew
I was dying up here

Originally posted by Amazing Disgrace


Food poisoning?

LOL

No. It was kinky sex gone awry.

[Ketchup]

There once was a young man named Dave
Who kept a dead whore in a cave
She had only one tit
And smelled worse than shit
But think of the money he saved!

[sawdust restaurants]

Late August, given heavy rain and sun
For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
Among others, red, green, hard as a knot.
You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet
Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it
Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for
Picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger
Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam-pots
Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.
Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills
We trekked and picked until the cans were full
Until the tinkling bottom had been covered
With green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned
Like a plate of eyes. Our hands were peppered
With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard's.
We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre.
But when the bath was filled we found a fur,
A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache.
The juice was stinking too. Once off the bush
The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour.
I always felt like crying. It wasn't fair
That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot.
Each year I hoped they'd keep, knew they would not.