there's comfort rising in the smells of your body
of the smooth spots of the hard lines with tender quivering
and time is against us as upturned lines across your cheeks
send my gaze halting form for me with two and fifty-fifty
chances of a tongue on mind and tastebuds shocking with hunger
of a touch from this lightning boy with thunder hands
grins can't conceal gold
in their mirthful creases
laughter won't ever be mined
dreams don't spout as oil
spilling from the earth
like blackened blood
cartwheels and conversations
remain forever free
happiness refuses monetary demands
joy is priceless
and love will dominate greed
by this computer's bleached firelight
the feelings click along in clattering
related extramarrital words
dictionary cousins, but there are only
so many utterances the tongue can shape
the form can take, the truth can escape
i can write - can i read?
but i can't fucking flirt
he smiles and i lean out of the frame
the soft wet realm of pleasure
the circuitry of normalcy evaded daily
and expulsion mixed futile rubbing
heightens a slipperly slope that
sees the post-climax world still
spinning in it's endless repetition
towards entropy
i'm running with pricked feet
i'm running from something
we're running out of options
a 30-year-old cardboard box. rough edges?
we rot in simplicity.
we rally to the cause proposed.
time trusts not because of this. sex?
we postmodernise our imports.
we are the perfected ailment of destruction.
analyzed in the dawn slack-jawed. cured?
we are the ingracious guests of earth.
we are the final solution unto ourselves.
into the wind, the cries of living truth. dead?
killing is easy with shuttered eyes. empty veins?
a heart of pure gold cannot beat. empty retinas?
we breatheee.
we consumeee.
we dieee.
if we all
are nothing?
Such Uses In Creating Indistinguishable Deaths Evaporate
The idea of the cut brings up stirred emotions
Any cut so small would have worked at the time
And any escape so simple would have worked at the time
Scared and hovering, with a shaking pair of scissors
The knowledge that wrists were only for those
Who wanted long, painful ends
Brought me to place the small, sharp point higher
Under the chin, blood flows where it is most needed
To the mind, the throne of consciousness
To a brain feeling so wronged that it would even destroy itself
There was panic that prevented the first few attempts
It gave way to calmness, but still hands
Stress
Staring hypnotic at the belt, the cobra ready to strike and prove to me my own fallacy - that of one who grows large and weary, a bubble expanded so far it's ready to rupture. Anger had intercepted me along my path to a life lived well and it's anger coursing me down a path of self-inflicted hallucinations, an easy way to avoid seeing the pin starting to press it's way into my thin flesh. Subliminal suggestions tell me to lay and wait for help to come by, but help's premier only turned me into a hit-and-run, struggling to leave the road, and heal quietly in quieter and darker corners, where, like a nail, I can drive myself into wood,
Truth And Lies, As Water
How surely the opposite of a truth
Flows from my lips
Into the easiest path.
Snaking a serpentine motion
Through valleys and meadows,
Taking the longest time,
While occasionally reaching
Its covered end.
And how surely the opposite of a lie
Flows from my lips
Along the hardest path.
Humbly marching on,
Over mountain and hill,
Taking the shortest time,
While always reaching
Its simple end.
When We Think Wolves Are Sheep
Ownership of water, exists. Give over -
gave over who? When was bad the single
Decision owing toward profit? Driving jingle
To flood towards ownership of water
Keeping packed inside boxes, slaughter
Imbedded in a garage. search for found
and lost items god gave. then forgot
With little panache. elegant forgiving
as liberal as salt. salt of the earth.
Earth being suicide of people. people
keep moving with a simple drum. pounding
out march. -beat down doors, in difference
lies the den. dark mind is indifference
Eating enough, never full for cash
White and Silent Fear
Afraid of the blank space crawling under the heel of my boot
I walk and run slowly, as fast as I came out of flooding
Breathing down the leather expanses of a portrait
Dreaming of a rush under the door and into fire
Grabbing at superflowing straws, describing I and i as art
A hand will come upon (me: the liar)
auto-correct this, it said to man-destroying-self
And the coward underneath will reach forward
To slide me back into the relieving darkness
Below rock and tree and sight, below punctuation
Why do not more trees appear in the light?
I, cowed into utter-nothing, draw my own hand back
The touch. Gone. I'm
Writing an unaffected sentiment of apathy
Strangling dimly set words upon each other
To transpose hate with feelings of worship
Tamped down, burning with lungs of another
Blind to discordance - passion without need to strip
Cry down in dirty bath-water…groping for what
For layers underneath the pretty chords
A dripping body rising from the gentle melodies
Runs from the bathroom, the dead-end of sweet awards
Nobody ever lived truly when infected by the beauty disease
And when the realization of the rut looms like a mountain
The work will take a reformed day for those constrained
New lines will vibrate without the need to relate
An
Face, yellow and red smile, walks into a room of dark. A simple soul grasping at the straws of safety, looks for the eyes and sees the mirror facing backwards, replicating itself, with the world poised in the center. He's humming in the corner of the dark room; seen the mirror, seen infinity, found himself a mind of nothing. Only hopes he's dreaming, and he's fallen, flaming, over the cliffs, smelling of cordite, laughing the full flight to the crashing tears at the bottom. Like a black star in the night, he burns with unknowable intensity, the wick into smoke, the ash into bleary eyes, the numbers into wasted genius: scribbles of ranting. Hi
"All that you"
All that you say
and all that you do
can be undone by so very few
this news is not new
Go to the sea,
Go to the moon,
But come back to me
so very soon.
Do that thing.
Do that stuff.
Just don't cling,
Don't live a bluff.
Give to me,
Give to thee,
Give to see,
and give to be.
See the world
on a chain
Are you sure it's furled
It can't be lame
C'mon let's dance.
C'mon let's drive.
Let's take a chance,
Just take that dive.
Have it clean,
Have it high.
Let's become lean;
not using a lie
Go to the right
Go fly a kite
Go shine a light
Into our collective night
When We Think Wolves Are Sheep
Ownership of water, exists. Give over -
gave over who? When was bad the single
Decision owing toward profit? Driving jingle
To flood towards ownership of water
Keeping packed inside boxes, slaughter
Imbedded in a garage. search for found
and lost items god gave. then forgot
With little panache. elegant forgiving
as liberal as salt. salt of the earth.
Earth being suicide of people. people
keep moving with a simple drum. pounding
out march. -beat down doors, in difference
lies the den. dark mind is indifference
Eating enough, never full for cash
Truth And Lies, As Water
How surely the opposite of a truth
Flows from my lips
Into the easiest path.
Snaking a serpentine motion
Through valleys and meadows,
Taking the longest time,
While occasionally reaching
Its covered end.
And how surely the opposite of a lie
Flows from my lips
Along the hardest path.
Humbly marching on,
Over mountain and hill,
Taking the shortest time,
While always reaching
Its simple end.
Stress
Staring hypnotic at the belt, the cobra ready to strike and prove to me my own fallacy - that of one who grows large and weary, a bubble expanded so far it's ready to rupture. Anger had intercepted me along my path to a life lived well and it's anger coursing me down a path of self-inflicted hallucinations, an easy way to avoid seeing the pin starting to press it's way into my thin flesh. Subliminal suggestions tell me to lay and wait for help to come by, but help's premier only turned me into a hit-and-run, struggling to leave the road, and heal quietly in quieter and darker corners, where, like a nail, I can drive myself into wood,
Such Uses In Creating Indistinguishable Deaths Evaporate
The idea of the cut brings up stirred emotions
Any cut so small would have worked at the time
And any escape so simple would have worked at the time
Scared and hovering, with a shaking pair of scissors
The knowledge that wrists were only for those
Who wanted long, painful ends
Brought me to place the small, sharp point higher
Under the chin, blood flows where it is most needed
To the mind, the throne of consciousness
To a brain feeling so wronged that it would even destroy itself
There was panic that prevented the first few attempts
It gave way to calmness, but still hands
Current Residence: hood river Favourite genre of music: eastern-european gypsy music ATM Wallpaper of choice: anything intensely disturbing Skin of choice: epidermis Personal Quote: "!"
Literal interpretations of the bible = slavery good, incest sometimes good, stoning to death good, and women in positions of leadership bad, along with many other things that nobody actually believes in anymore.
If you're gonna have a theological philosophy, at least make it consistent, peoples.
PLEASE READ THIS WHOLE POST. IT'S SO DANG TRUE*
1. At least 2 people in this world love you so much they would die for you.
2. At least 15 people in this world love you in some way.
3. The only reason anyone would ever hate you is because they want to be just like you.
4. A smile from you can bring happiness to anyone, even if they don't like you.
5. Every night, SOMEONE thinks about you before they go to sleep.
6. You mean the world to someone.
7. If not for you, someone may not be living.
8. You are special and unique.
9. Someone that you don't even know exists loves you.
10. When you make the biggest mistake ever, something good comes from it.
11. When you think the world has turned its back on you, take a look: you most likely turned your back on the world.
12. When you think you have no chance of getting what you want, you probably won't get it, but if you believe in yourself, probably, sooner or later, you will get it.
13. Always remember the compliments you received. Forget about the rude remarks. 14. Always tell someone how you feel about them; you will feel much better when they know.
15. If you have a great friend, take the time to let them know that they are great. Add this as a comment to ten of your friends tonight and at midnight your true love will find you. Something good will happen to you at 2:25 tomorrow. Get ready for the biggest shock of your life. Whoever breaks this chain letter will be cursed with 10 relationship problems for the next ten years tag ur it!! this is so scary!!! send this to 15 ppl in the next 143 min. and then press F6 and your crushes name will appear in big letters!! it is so scary because it works
I have over 200 poems that I consider worth posting.
That's a LOT of time to upload stuff because DeviantArt makes me put them in categories, which I find annoying and time-consuming. I'm still getting used to this interface. It has its advantages, and its disadvantages. So far, I find message boards more convenient.