Twisting, writhing,
hanging stretched in the wind,
three sheets, no four,
never felt more,
pain in my wrists
the rope bites deep,
twisting, writhing,
sun beats down
burning skin brown,
drying flesh
into a dirty mesh,
of body and dress,
a crow alights
on the limb above,
cocks head sideways
smiles,
an impressive feat
for one with no lips,
only beak,
sitting patiently
waiting for last breath
to rattle
free of chest,
cawing softly to itself,
happy to wait,
sitting by hands
but safely out of reach...
waiting until eyes
dry open, unblinking
unfocusing,
tongue swollen,
thick, dry, cracked
along with lips
no longer drawn
past breath...

I read with howls of laughter,
Your testosterone post,
You have managed to call my bluff,
You are braver than most.
Let me deal with the softer points first,
You must be used to that,
The we'll move on from there,
You'll be the mouse and me the cat.
You ay your corp is multinational,
Of that I have seen no proof,
No documents or logos,
So I think you are a goof.
You say you'll keep moving houses,
To another that's new,
We'll be right there alongside,
Moving right with you.
You forget that I've been 'round longer,
I think you are a sook (Oz for wimp),
I am the expert on how to party,
I wrote the Drunkard's Book.
You say you have a major religion,
I say, "Oh, good grief!"
Religion counts for nothing,
Unless you have belief.
I do not believe in your religion,
I worship a higher being,
The Almighty Beer Brewer,
That I'm always seeing.
And as for your mutants,
That scary, rotting horde,
I start to think of what they'll do,
Then I get really bored.
For, I have a powerful weapon,
For you it is in store,
The power and the savagery,
Of my mother-in-law.
And as for the Teletubbies,
They shall lie bleeding and still,
I'll throw them one by one,
Into their windmill on the hill.
You say that no-one's badder than you,
No-one badder ever seen,
You're so bad you'r pathetic,
The worst I've ever seen.
Do not challenge me so lightly,
For I am a Dad at home,
I have defeated worse than you,
As cross the land I roam.
For, the life of the domestic engineer,
Is a dangerous one,
You are surrounded by ancient perils,
And in multiples they always come.
I deal with wet and poopy diapers,
I wipe the dirty bottom,
I make bottles of sumptuous formula,
The best she's ever gotten.
I do washing and then ironing,
I prepare most meals,
I soothe her when she's upset,
The better she always feels.
So, my days are brisk and treacherous,
It hardly seems remotley fair,
You are insignificant in comparison,
You cannot hope to compare.
So, begone you miniscule annoyance,
You give yourself too much credit,
You may like to remove your post,
It I would gladly edit.

PB Legal Department - this poetic piece was
authorised to be psoted in response to a light
hearted challenge. In no way is it to be taken
seriously. The provocation "So come on, try
and fuck up all my houses, poetry boy"
has been deemed a legitimate challenge to
arms, hence, any response supplied can
be deemed acceptable.

Cheers from the Land of Oz

"reminiscent"

But if it is, it's just a leeetle bit so. ;) *HUGS* Comments/etc appreciated per usual.
"reminiscent"
darkness
sultry and supple
entrancing with its mystique
gentle with its evening caresses
a welcomed intrusion
into my solitude
enveloping me
such a simple comfort in such
a peaceless world
to lose myself in it
let it wrap around me
[such a serpentile blanket]
make me shudder from head to toe
welcome me into its own
where i never feel alone
so at rest with the shadows licking across my skin
a comfortable discomfort
a welcomed intrusion
such a delightful distraction
warm and wanted
and you wonder why the darkness
reminds me of you

I have a request for you, sir,
In these desperate hours,
I would like to nominate my choice,
Of Unwahsed secret powers.
I am not the greedy sort, though,
I only want the one,
That shall protect me from injury,
And allow some fun.
I wish to have the Astral Shield,
Of Unwashed Chauvanism,
To allow me to be a protected Bastard,
Something like hypnotism.
It would allow me to be a little rude,
But nothing at all mean,
Being a bit of a Bastard without reprisal,
Now, that's something to be seen!

Don't tell anyone ....

Cheers from the Land of Oz

I hope everyone enjoys reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
A mutated cookie,
Into what we don't know.
Belongs to Iggy,
He's shy and won't show.

An experiment perhaps,
With bad side effects.
He cannot remember,
His memory lapsed.

Was it the project,
Or maybe old age.
I'll bet on the ladder
My words are my wage.

He seems fond of closets,
A personal kink?
I send him this poem,
With a smile and a *wink*.

Paranoia
settles
in the pit
of my stomach,
effortlessly
squeezing away
every last
increment
of optimism,
rifling through
old memories
older dreams
broken fantasies,
mangling pasts
twisting presents
shattering futures,
filtering
reality
through streamers
of incoherence,
barraging with
wisps of fear
whispers of terror
whiskers of hope,
whisked about
as if an egg
in a stainless
steel world,
reality
is a paranoid
delusion,
the spiderweb
of cracks
in a broken mirror,
each one a tendril
of fate
organized
in seemingly
random patterns,
all following
each other
hopelessly
to the beginning
where you end...,
to the end
that is beginning...

"exhaust fumes"

Kinda darkish, but. Just one of those moods. *HUGs*
"exhaust fumes"
close your eyes and rest your head
because the past is gone
because the past is dead
and all you knew cannot be changed
because your chance is gone
because you've dug your grave
want to repeat to yourself
the blistered prayers of a child
rote repetition
a fervent wishing
[exhaustion fumes
fan the flames
live the nights
and haunt the days]
that god or someone would save you
but you'll never change who you are
you'll never outgrow your sickness
and i can't talk to people who aren't there.
close my eyes for me and rest my head
[i'm tired so tired please..
my love, my long lost love..
someone make some sense
someone remember to breathe for me]
because the peace is gone
because the peace is dead
and all i know haunts me yet
because i can't let go
because i can't forget
scars across the skin of someone
looking in the mirror--guess that's me
[it's hard to tell these days
the stories of a thousand escapes
but never those who've been caught, at
darkest darker than your darkest thought]
want something to calm the noise
but i've long since learned
not to raise my voice
cuz there might be a god or someone who'd save me
--and i want no one to save me from who i am
take away the miracle cures
basking in this decay, when everything's only a wish away..
[i could be something better..
i could be someone better...
i could have done it better..
i could be someone better...
sing it to yourself some afternoon
you don't know guilt til you know this tune]
rote repetition,
a fervent wishing,
close my eyes and rest your head.
we're better off asleep,
dreams to haunt us instead.
[just exhaust fumes of a pained mind]

"pleas"

Have to look at it from a highly sarcastic point of view, which is how most of the un-bracketed stuff is meant. -_- Comments, etc appreciated. *HUGS*
"pleas"
you learn to fight what you fear
or you fall.
[i'm drowning in myself
i need someone else
but sometimes asking for help
hurts more than pain itself]
you learn to sleep with the enemies
or you wither.
[i'm deteriorating in myself
i need someone else
but sometimes it's harder to cry
than to bite your lip and smile]
you learn to deal with the pain
or you cry.
and crying just isn't allowed
and after awhile,
you'll forget how.
give in to the darkness,
before you burn in the light.
[you learn to surrender
when you're too weak to fight]
you learn to save yourself
or you go unsaved.
cuz there's no one in this world
going to save you a place
or help you get ahead
in this inhuman race.
give in to the cruelty,
cuz they'll kill you for your kindness.
[you learn to blend in
when you're too tired to make a difference]
did you realize
how far i've atrophized
how little of the innocence
has survived?
[i've pushed the self-destruct on destructed self
needing the help of a someone else
but the strength ~ the words ~ the voice
all erased by my own choice]
sometimes it's easier just to hide
than forsake the sins and your pride
and after awhile you learn to rely on yourself
when you've never been taught
to trust anyone else
[you learn to crawl from the darkness
so you can burn in the light]
"give me life
give me pain
give me a way
give me a way to get away.."
give me back to me

Crowing out like an old rooster,
I guess I did that then,
I can see that you noticed,
Just like any broody hen.
I recognise that you have power,
I am not a feeble dolt,
You must be very proud of,
That one and only volt.
And as for your corporation,
I do deny it is real,
Show me some sort of proof,
A document or seal.
You'd better hurry up though,
Your yawn filled me with dread,
You seem to be boring yourself so much,
That you'll soon be dead.

The rabbit's eyes
watching over me
why is it watching me?
I wish that stupid rabbit would stop watching me.
Can't that rabbit see I'm giving it the finger?
If it looks at me one more time, I'm gonna maul it.
That does it! I'm having rabbit for dinner!

That rabbit sure was a good fighter.
I think I'm bleeding internally.
Damn that rabbit's eyes!

In his ever expanding quest,
For faster net downloads,
Jay began to dabble in the obscure,
He travlled down dangerous roads.
Not content with a T1,
He went for a T2,
The T3 was next to be tried,
He went for anything new.
But hearing of his preoccupation,
Was a surgeon with a shady past,
He said he could implant a cable,
And do it cheap and fast.

So, Jay forked over four thousand,
And proferred his clammy head.
The surgeon said, "You misunderstand,
It goes in you a$$ instead."
So, with a shrug and some trepidation,
A feeling that stubbornly lasted,
Especially when the rectal probe,
Bore the logo of the Poetry Bastard.
But Jay was restrained by now,
He couldn't move an inch,
He was committed to this action,
He didn't even flinch.
Then the doctor whipped off his beard,
Revealing Evil Owl,
But when he let Ymir into the room,
Poor Jay started to howl!
Then the rest of the Bastards entered,
Led by a grinning Doom,
She was taking photos for her site,
Her camera set to zoom.

Let this be a lesson Jay,
Or else you'll end up like this.
If you keep crowing about your modem,
You'll be the subject of our bliss.

Just kiddin'. Couldn't resist. :)

Cheers from the land of Oz

The Unwashed had arrived in force,
Dressed up really nice,
They were wearing unwashed tuxedoes,
They had checked their flies twice.
For it was the time for awarding.
The newest type of prize,
The Unwashed Member of the Month,
All ready for the surprise.
The time came for the announcement,
The enveloped was torn apart,
The winner was our beloved Night Owl,
His surprise heralded by a fart.
But the best news of all came,
From Night Owl on a whim,
He was so overcome with joy,
He said the drinks were on him!

Hope your line of credit is good ...

Cheers from the Land of Oz

“loaded dice”

“loaded dice”
intense nervousness
fear of falling
afraid to play
a game
if not certain
of a win
[second is just
the first loser.
there’s no excuse
for losing.]
sickness creeping
cancer devours
destroyed
from within
no excuse
mess you’ve made
[excuses are
for losers.
cheaters never win
and losers never win
unless the winners stay home
and even then
it’s just loaded dice
in my eyes]
paranoic breathing
burnt by insecurity
failing
fear of failing
[all the fans
cheering in the stands]
success cannot
penetrate
self doubt
some
are just
poor gamblers
in a world of
loaded dice
and questions
[seeing is only
treasured by the blind
fortunes only by
the unfortunate
peace only by
the restless
sleep
only
by
the damned
first place
only by those
destined
to eternal second]
second is only
the most pridefallen
of losers.

Broken Mirror

Paranoia
settles
in the pit
of my stomach,
effortlessly
squeezing away
every last
increment
of optimism,
rifling through
old memories
older dreams
broken fantasies,
mangling pasts
twisting presents
shattering futures,
filtering
reality
through streamers
of incoherence,
barraging with
wisps of fear
whispers of terror
whiskers of hope,
whisked about
as if an egg
in a stainless
steel world,
reality
is a paranoid
delusion,
the spiderweb
of cracks
in a broken mirror,
each one a tendril
of fate
organized
in seemingly
random patterns,
all following
each other
hopelessly
to the beginning
where you end...,
to the end
that is beginning...

I wish my grandmother had air conditioning =(

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------
Why is it so hot in here?
Ah that's right
I'm too poor for air conditioning.

Did my dog just melt?
I wish I lived in my fridge
because then I would stay cool
all of the time
and I could make friends with
the Snapple bottles.

You could poke me in the eye
and I would not notice
because it's too damn hot in here.

Welcome to the Unwashed Villagers,
Here you'll truly see,
A wonderful collection of souls,
That let their ideas run free.
New members are always appreciated,
For our wall a new brick,
But first you have an appointment with,
The Unwashed Pointy Stick.
A member called Doom is the keeper,
Of this sacred rune,
She will visit and thus annoint you,
This will happen soon.
But before this event occurs,
For it grows rather near,
Raising the cover on your health insurance,
Would be a smart idea.

Just kidding. Welcome to the Village.
May your time here be both enjoyable and entertaining.

"Jealous Athena"

I pondered writing a description of the myth that gave this a title, but am too sleepy... enjoy... I'm off to bed, and I expect to see a comment or two by the time i get back ;) (joking!) *HUGS* everyone.
"Jealous Athena"
jealous Athena
(my hands are Arachne)
see the threads i weave?
so beautiful
you'll never match
that beauty
as long as i live
[are you going to kill me?
would you like to try?]
i lie here sleeping
vulnerable in time
are you going to stab me?
finish what you couldn't
bring yourself to do
the first time?
jealous Athena
try all you want
(my hands are Arachne)
weave me a winding sheet
lie me in your bed
but the fear is gone
and now there's only me
you'll never destroy
that emotion
as long as i live
[are you going to kill me?
would you like to try?]
i spread myself out here
vulnerable in darkness
are you going to tear me?
finish what you didn't have
the mercy to do the first time?
jealous Athena
try all you want
(my hands are Arachne)
i will rise and i will fall
and i will fall and i will rise (again)
and i have infinite strength
infinite will
infinite power
to stand again
[my smiling mouth
my bleeding feet
suffering made easy]
make my stand here
you'll never destroy
that life
within me
as long as i live
[are you going to kill me?
would you like to try?
i would scream louder
i would scream louder this time]
jealous Athena
will this continue?
jealous Athena
you'll never win
jealous Athena
no longer within me
jealous Athena
of you i am free
jealous Athena
try all you want
My hands are Arachne.

I read with some dismay before,
Dispersions about our national sport,
I didn't anger me in the slightest,
I'm happy to report.
For, I looked at it from the outside,
And cricket must seem bizarre,
To the uninitiated eye, that is,
In countries that are far.
For the game is one of patiencel,
Of concentration and skill,
Those who do not possess these,
Shall amount to nil.
I'm not saying the cricket is the only one,
To have this type of ideal,
Every sport has different emphases,
That is clear and real.

Cricket can take from a full day,
Or in a test, it's five,
You need to concentrate for hours,
You really know you're alive.
Batting is a test of stamina,
Concentrating for hours on end,
Determination should be your cornerstone,
And diligence your friend.
Being able to hit a spinning ball,
That not only curves in the air,
It hits the pitch and turns again,
Sometime's it's just not fair!
Facing bowlers who thunder in,
Their running adding power,
These people deliver balls that,
Travel 120 miles an hour.
You stand a mere 22 yards away,
Facing this varied onslaught,
You remember those years of practice,
And the strategies you've been taught.
Fitness also enters here,
You must run to score,
22 yards for every run,
Try scoring 100 or more!
Then there'e fielding the ball,
Sometimes your nerve unravels,
You stop the ball without a glove,
And that ball really travels!
Bowling is also another skill,
The wickets you try to hit,
But you also intimidate the batsman,
Scare him first - that's it!
Once the batsman's overly tentative,
You move in for the kill,
You beguile him with a slight of hand,
And your years of skill.

Cricket is a wonderful game,
Played by lots of nations,
You play it competitively,
Or with your many relations.
Countries play against one another,
It makes me warm inside,
If your country beats another,
You almost burst with pride.
My point here is quite simply,
No-one should reject out of hand,
A sport that they are not familiar with,
One they don't understand.
As a person from Oz I try,
To follow other sports,
I watch them on our cable,
I listen to the reports.
I love watching U.S. baseball,
I am a Yankees fan,
I love to watch the NFL,
Whilst drinking from a can.
But it took effort on my part,
To learn each new game,
I only ask that others try,
To do the very same.

Cricket is a great game. Don't believe me? I don't care .....
Just don't rag on something you don't understand.

Cheers from the Land of Oz

Inhuman Illusory Soul Fusion Magic
They can be divine spirits, they can be
evil spirits
Ah, even if Heaven's vapors were
brought here...
Secret thoughts can also be virtue!
They can also be vice!
Ah, even if Hell's bewitching
atmosphere were carried here...
As long as such suspicious forms do
come,
they shall have a dialogue!

On a moonlight night already severely
cold,
might a spirit leave its body!
A mystery beyond the ken of humans,
and humanity, dwarfed by their Creator,
is made to tremble in fear at the sight!

First date

*laughs* A really bad poem, but here you go. =)

First Date

Goodness gracious
Me oh my
I’ve got something in my eye

I’ve not been trying to flirt with you
Just thought that you should know
So please stop winking back at me
I really have to go

Goodness gracious
My oh me
I’ve just gone and hurt my knee

I’m not trying to take your hand
I’m not going to propose
Now let me get back on my feet
I’ve got to blow my nose

Goodness gracious
Me my oh
Darnit, I just stubbed my toe

I do not want to dance with you
Let’s get off the dance floor
I need to find me a Band-Aid
And run out the back door

k.a.stryker March 22, 2003

It is night...
darkness swathes every limb,
cradles each whisperous breath,
cloaks beneath a velvet blanket
the prying eyes of pasts
long forgotten by humanity...
a creak...a snap...the crunch
of frosted dirt,
dessicated by the freezing chill,
a raged breath
rasping through throats
so ancient even they have forgotten
how long they've drawn sustenance
through the intake of air...
You don't remember them...
but they remember what they are...
why they are here...
their purpose...
to devour,
To take that gleam of life
inside your chest
and snuff it from existence...
to rend your flesh into palatable
pieces, ripe for sucking forth your marrow,
to slake impossible thirsts
with the lifeblood that pulses
so quickly inside your hot veins...
to empty you...of your spirit...
of your soul...of your essence...
smiling all the while...
as I devour you...

"legerdemain"

I just can't stick with one style or mood for very long ;) Legerdemain, by the way, for anyone who doesn't know, is a french word meaning slight of hand.. trick... I like the word a lot, and it seemed to fit with this. *HUGS* Comments appreciated =P
"legerdemain"
life is a fragile
bitter way
so bruised
there's nothing left
to save
broken shells
upon the shelf
slain by the hands
of someone else
"if i die
i want to die myself"
we are the aching
heaving waves
time is a sentimental
chain
it wastes and displaces
fames
battered eyes
inside a box
trapped here by
someone else's locks
"just for once
i want to be the fox"
we are the ever
embryonic brain
love is a forgotten
jewel
so tired
we burn ourselves
for fuel
shattered minds
inside our shells
long lost pennies
in rotting wells
"i want to burn
in my own hells"
we are
the envoys of fate
so cruel
and what i had is lost
and what i had is dead
and all my stars have been crossed
and all my footsteps misled
by a simple trick of fate
by a simple trick of mind
the chip upon my shoulder
well, it is solely mine
"if i have to fall
let it be by my mistakes
and if i have to burn
let them be my stakes
and if you let me die
let my hands hold the knife
but if you make me live
let it be my life."
we are the bitter barren children
the strangers in the strangest land
a slight of fate's hand, a trick
of the light
alone we cross deserts
in the wasteland of the night.

I have walked through this valley before,
Not knowing what I was doing,
Or who I was,
I was always alone.
Only with thoughts,
Memories,
Of who I was before,
And the lessons
I chose to take with me.
And the lessons
I chose to forget,
They make me anew.
Though I am indeed still me,
For that is the one thing I will always be.
I can not be who I use to be.
I can not change the things I did.
If I choose to learn these lessons well,
I will like who I am,
I will love the life I lead,
I will conquer my destiny.
As much as I can,
As much as you can,
If you would reach out,
Take hold,
Grab up what you will,
Leave the rest behind.
Except for distant memories
Of deeds done,
And lessons learned,
Be what you will,
I will be what I can,
We are only what we perceive,
To be more or less,
Would simply be, a lie.

K.A.Stryker March 21, 2001 9:05 AM

Summer
the hummingbirds are singing
and all the children are outside
perhaps playing their summer games?

Summer's here, summers gone
right before my eyes
had some fun, made some new friends
and soon Fall will come.

I'll go back to school, I don't like that,
but perhaps I can manage to stay sane
until Summer comes once more.

Poor Owl, you have my sympathies,
It's not nice to be sick,
The causes could have been many,
You can take your pick.
Perhaps it was your nocturnal habits,
Staying up oh so late,
It plays havoc with your body,
The effects are far from great.
Or maybe it was some atmoic beer,
Served chilled in The Glow,
That stuff can make you hurl mightily,
It's bad for you, you know.
Or maybe it was a type of bug,
Coming doen the phone line,
Those callers can be evil,
They do it all the time.
Perhaps you are developing an allergy,
Even though you often feel fine,
You may be allergic to stupid people,
You meet them all the time.
Or maybe it's an avarian thing,
Affecting creatures of the night,
Some parasitic tick or flea,
Or fluke or work or mite.
Or maybe it's your ravaged body,
Telling you to stop,
Sick of you working so diligently,
On spammers that you stop.
But what worries me is the timing,
With sickness that is mild,
The nausea and the lethargy,
Are you sure you're not "with child".

:)

Get well soon. I'll add a roo tail to Doom's soup.

Cheers from the Land of Oz

Thou ist twisting,
thy body gently swaying
in the breeze,
dangled like a ghastly
christmas ornament,
upon yon yuletime gallows,
thee hast shirked commodity
known as common sense,
placed the noose
upon thy neck,
tied thy own knot around
with blinded eyes,
your guide, sightless
eyes of thine,
ye sought the light
blind, sympathy ye
shan't find,
ye twist and sway,
ye've hanged this day,
yourself and thrice a life,
besmirched now twice divine,
yet ye enjoy,
the swaying lilting twist,
as rope burns and
digs your flesh,
chokes away thy patient breath,
squeezes life from bloodless
lips, flutters eyelids quite sublime,
and yet ye grin and
grin, as if content
to commit thyself
upon the field of bones,
consecrated decision
to justify occurence,
thy life a riddle ye don't want,
seek the sanity once sought,
try to break free of the lie,
but in thy struggle timeless,
all you really do is die.

"conspirator's inspirationals"

life moves in swirls
sometimes forward
sometimes back
and light moves in shadows
sometimes hid amongst the black
and all of us are theories
waiting to be explored
and all of us are hating
but we're wanting to be adored
lack of sense or a sense of sense
there are no shades of indifference
because what difference does it make?
and you are who you are
not by the shoes that you wear
but the roads that those shoes take
we are our own eyes
we are our own hands
we die by our own lives
we make our own stands
and this life that moves in swirls
well, it is but yours to live
to fight and fall and rise and win
the challenges it may give.

 was lurking about the arts.usage.english newsgroup when someone posted the above line (as well as some variations), asking what the correct (or best) syntax would be.

Well... I liked the flow of the line, which sounded much to me like the first line of a poem.

So, our contest is to create a poem (any style) and submit it in this thread. The winner will be determined by sending all the poems to Ariel Sharon, who select the winner. He really needs to lighten up.

Anyway, here is my entry:


"Down which hill did a small child roll?
The small one? The large one? The one with a vole?
But down the hill she came, with undetermined goal,
A small child smiling, rolling down the knoll."

Ooooh... Money.
It's green
It's keen
It's... paper.

Paper?
You mean,
Just wood pulp?
Yup.

Entire
Countries
Live and Die
Off the stuff

But it's
Just paper
And ink
Nothing more

It's amazing
How we are
So dependant
On paper

It makes
The world
Go round
...round...?

But,
You'll have
To excuse
My ramblings

For I
Must go to
Work, so I can
Earn some more money.

Cause you can never have enough of that.

The story starts with the Three Ymirs,
Mr, Mrs and child,
They are all lovely people,
Conservative and not wild.

Once upon a present time,
In the Land of Oz,
The Three Ymirs had gone out,
It was unusual because,
They are not often absent,
They are mostly home,
having a little bundle of joy curtailed,
Their propensity to roam.
But they needed to escape,
And off to make the most,
of a short stay in the sun,
On Queensland's Gold Coast.

But they arrived home soon after,
Tired, unwashed and weary,
But the sight upon their return,
Left them perplexed and teary.
The fromt door had been forced,
Muddy footprints on the floor,
The mud was on the carpet,
The roof, the walls and more.
The fridge was standing open,
Their three pizzas had disappeared,
Beer cans were littered everywhere,
As the shocked Ymirs neared.
Their three chairs had been disturbed,
The smallest of them broken,
The others had been fouled too,
A truer word not spoken.
Then they approached the toilet,
Standing shocked and hushed,
The seat had been left up,
And it was unflushed.
Then they journed up the stairs,
Sleep running through their heads,
Only to find that the intrusion,
Extended to their beds.
Pappa Ymir's bed was strewn,
With chips made of corn,
The cuddly toys on Mumma Ymir's bed,
Were in positions so forlorn.
But the shock of all soon came,
In Baby Ymir's bed,
They expected to find Goldilocks,
But found GoldiBastard instead.
"Hey! Where were you folks?!"
GoldiBastard cried,
"You ran out of chips and beer,
Golly (replace with better word) I almost died!
Well, don't stand there looking at me,
With faces shocked and queer,
Ring up for some pizza,
And go out for more beer."
Pappa Ymir smiled so sweetly,
Wlaking backward through the door,
He returned still smiling sweetly,
With his .44.
GoldiBastard jumped up immediately,
Upset to see the gun,
He said, "C'mon now, Ymir,
I was only having fun!"
Ymir retained his calm demeanour,
And GoldiBastard he did spurn,
He levelled the gun and stated firmly,
"Get beer? It's YOUR turn!"

Insert your favourite Bastard for GoldiBastard.

Cheers from the Land of Oz

"acceptance"

it's been a weird day for me.. this poem means a lot in my eyes.. and was a very emotional work for me. thanks for reading.
*HUGS*
"acceptance"
i apologize for all my labyrinths
and my lies
but i just wanted to see
the pride shining in your eyes
i can't stand the disgust you can't disguise
i never wanted to ever see that in your eyes
can't you see
i've got to live life the way life works for me
and maybe i am wasteful, father
maybe i am lazy
you've got to accept that i have flaws
that i am not the child i've appeared to be
and after all of this has done,
well,
what i need most is for you to love me
i know you want what's best
and i know you want what's right
and i know you want me to grow up
to live a good life
but sometimes there is nothing you can do
to change an old dog set in their ways
but encourage my accomplishments
and applause where i'm due praise
maybe i could be more than this,
BUT MAYBE I AM TIRED DADDY
tired of trying to be so much
tired of trying to stand so tall
tired of trying to make everyone love me
for a person i am not and cannot ever be
i'm so tired
and maybe i need some space
to have some rest from life

"match trails"

Think it's decentish though. Just one of those days. =P
"match trails"
look but you can't find
your simple piece of mind
a whisper in the dark
a match struck in a heart
burning at the fuse
both ends from fire lose
but i am made of ice
and i won't be broken twice
[never feared the flames
never feared the flames
never placed the blames
loved my match trails]
going or returning
to lead or to follow
giving without receiving
left empty and hollow
lie down your head
close down your mind
let's dig in the sorrow
and see what we find
years and knives and
two thousand eyes can't be wrong
you've seen my suffering
and have called me strong
seething for the comments
twisting for the word
strong strong strong
you're thinking of another girl
but as pathetic and weak
my soul is made of ice
hold me to the flame
but i won't burn twice
[arsonistic snow girl
born in the blizzards
with a torch and a mind
burning and seething
arsonistic snow girl gone blind]
a gift without a tag
a mark without a cause
three scars on a leg
reminiscent of dirty claws
lie down your head
close down your eyes
let me wrap you in my hurt
it should come as no surprise
emotionally attractive
emotionally taxing
theoreoretically beautiful
or sullen girl waxing
boys on my left
and boys on my right
and fear in my head
and fear in my night
[never feared the flames
never feared the flames
it's the faces and the names
it's the shadows playing games
it's the monster under the bed
it's the demon in my head
arsonistic snow girl
autistic snow girl
gone so far she's gone so blind
burned again and again
by an inflamed mind]
i look but i can't find
a simple piece of mind
never content to stand still
always change and always will
like a catalystic cyclone
destroy all in my path
and wonder why i'm alone.
[snow girl snow girl
can you find your way home?]

"Ehh. Poem. "Diligence""
Why should I..?
How could I..?

when did she die...?
when did she decide
it was the best thing
to do...to throw her life
away, like so much refuse,
on someone she had no feelings
for...on someone she didn't
even pretend to want...?
why did she decide...to burn
away her future...
to consign herself to a fate
worse than death, that of
a loveless life...
when did she close her eyes
to the truth, when did she
find her self no longer herself...
when did she realize
she'd been brainwashed...?

When did the girl I loved so much
die...?
why did she cast her life
into the hands of someone else...
and let him kill her...?
why did she accept a fate
she didn't ever want,
even though she had a choice...?
why did she talk herself
into believing her own lies...?
why did she choose the fate
that turned her life into dust,
all for a person she hated...?
why did she decide to
throw her life away...?

and why do I care anymore...?

Nuerons crippled
Spastic thoughts
Oh God, no
It's happening again

Funny how it all
Works out like this
20 ounces
Eagds, that was pure caffiene

Now it's a good
Two hours
Past my bedtime
And I can't stop typing
My eyes are stapled open
Without staples, at that
I think my watch beeped
Three o'clock

Should I risk
Trying to sleep
Before work?
Will I wake in time?

Oh, hey she's online
I guess I'll talk to her
It's not like
I just saw her tonight
(Oh wait, I did)

Now it's pushing five
And I haven't shut my eyes
But it's okay
I'll just have some more caffiene

I'm pleased that I live in Oz,
Here it's 5 o'clock,
In the US it's 2 am,
My God! What a shock!
I sit here conversing with these people,
That are forgoing sleep,
They choose to be here instead,
Their commitment is so deep.

They patrol this place with diligence,
Bring wisdom to the board,
They post gems of literary skill,
Loyal to the horde.
They prop their heads up with pillows,
They fight to stay upright,
They are the pallid internet warriors,
The heroes of the night.
They sit with weepy eyeballs bulging,
Falling from their head,
They should be snoring loudly,
But they're here instead.
They drink coffee by the gallon,
Slap themselves across the face,
They pinch themselves regularly,
To make this a nicer place.
They sit on rusty thumbtacks,
It really works a treat,
They also incorporate electric shocks,
Into their spiky seat.
Then, when at least they leave,
To curl up in their beds,
They twitch to the HTML rhythms,
That swirl around in their heads.
You will recognise these cyber barbarians,
By their pallid skin,
If any of you ever need a holiday,
I will let you in.

Thanks to all who were around tonight. I really enjoyed the chats.

Cheers from the Land of the Sun

"Crowsong"

Not sure why I liked it so much, perhaps it's just my mood right now, but. *HUGS* Thanks for reading, i appreciate it. A comment might be nice also, if you have the time/words ;)
"Crowsong"
i want to sleep this guilt away
but i don't sleep
not like i used to
it wasn't meant for me
[black birds on my left side,
blue eyes on my right
if i could sleep at all
they'd still watch me at night
singing bitter
singing bitter crowsong]
but if we're talking about
what was meant for who
then this burden i carry, well
it should belong to you
why must we always burn the innocents?
why must we always kill the saints?
why can i not release the moment?
why can i not forget the face?
live in the shadows and die in the dark
but i don't know how to live
and i'm too afraid to die
no, i was meant to live on
but if we're talking about
what was meant for who
[if i could sleep at all
they'd still watch me at night
singing bitter
singing bitter crowsong
10 years with this
and i've learned to sing along]
then the one with the death brand
well that should have been you
no more killing innocence
no more smothering the good
i want no more nightmares of you
i want no more lies misunderstood
i want to drink my life away
but i don't drink
too many morals and not enough money
the deathwish escape of so many
but it wasn't meant for me
[aspire i to better glory
if i wanted to fall
well the crows wouldn't let me
i didn't ask for this grace
this grace
dis grace
scars on my arms and spite
etched on my face]
but if we're talking about
what was meant for who
then this agonization, well
it should belong to you
for destroying the innocent
for stealing the innocence
for utterly and totally
inflicting yourself
on the crow's baby
still screaming for help
all these fears and all these years
i won't live in the shadows
no, i'll suffer in the light
i hope you're blinded by the stones they throw
and devoured by the vultures
descended in the night
because if they know your evil
you've got no place to hide
i hang with the onlooking crows
singing a bitter song
there'll be no more destroying innocents.

My heart is beating far too rapidly,
I'm under some sort of sex,
I'm nervous, yet I'm elated,
it's like I'm having sex!
My website is up and running,
It's poetry through and through,
But there's a few other bits and pieces,
That just might interest you.
I've just had a terrible thought though,
This may be something I grow to hate,
With this bloody poem now,
It's already out of date!

So, drop in for a visit,
Bring some beer on ice,
But please be gentle with me,
It's my first - be nice!

Cheers from the Land of Oz

Hrm. Poem. Written while 99.88888888% unconscious. -_^"
LAST EDITED ON 10-12-00 AT 09:00 AM (GMT)
It spirals
downward,
twisting, turning,
sinking, burning,
crashing, swirling,
lamenting, whirling,
flashing into
eternity,
from this
mere existence,
beyond darkness
beyond lightness,
beyond corporeal
essences,
above simplicity
and complexity,
shattering barriers
never thought about,
hidden ones, invisible ones,
lost, forgotten ones,
mystical ones,
plain and simple ones,
forgotten lores
flame within,
burst forth to nowhere
on a whim
spiraling, twisting
burning, kissing,
a light touch
cold light
cool dark
soft carresses
of infinity,
wrapped inside
the insanity,
laced with proclivities,
desires,
hopes, dreams, broken
hearts,
never find a home,
when the emptiness
inside
can never be filled...
when it reverses itself
and begins to consume
everything...
and it spirals down...
twisting, turning,
sinking, burning,
crashing, swirling,
lamenting, whirling...
into...

"gems"

And I mean every word of it... *HUGS* Thanks guys and gals. Life has a way of making me look sometimes... sometimes at the bad things, and sometimes at the good... and it's the good which I've been forced to view today =)
"gems"
right now
right here
right at this moment
just for a minute
i am complete
completely unalone
and completely unafraid
a rarity for me
a jewel in a gemless sea
maybe
maybe now
maybe that's a mistruth
just for a minute
i am looking clearly
clearly for once
and calmly over my life
and all of my rarities
all of my jewels in a gemless sea
right now
right here
right at this moment
just for a minute
i feel complete
completely loved
and love completely back
a rarity for me
so many jewels in my gemless sea
maybe
maybe now
maybe i'll learn to put some faith in me
just for a minute
i am in realization
utter and total comprehension
of all the people who care about me
all of my jewels who make my shining sea
and right now
just for a moment in time
i want to thank you all
for being friends to me
for being the precious jewels
in my stormy sea.

*HUGS*

Keep writing these literary gems,
You have real talent there,
To be able to impart such strong emotions,
Is a gift that's rare.
I sympathise with those feelings,
They are not really bad,
We have all experienced such emotions,
They're a common thing to be had.
At the end of your terrific piece,
I simply wished for more,
I can't wait for your next endeavour,
To see what we have in store.
I look at your excellent poems,
With a longing stare,
I can't help but look at my stuff,
The two I then compare.
If they were music I'd be the Spice Girls,
Fast, trashy and fun,
My work is goofy and a trifle empty,
Over before it's begun.
But, you friend, would be Dylan,
Emotional in every way,
Your poetry is provactive and relational,
With something great to say.     

Great job, and don't wait too long before                                                   

the next one. Or, get really depressed or                                                   

pi$$ed off and write one to match your mood.                                                    

Cheers from the Land of Oz              

Moon

Moon, silver dollar
hanging, an arm's reach away
searching
seeking
yet unreachable by hands
my hands seeking in vain
forever elusive of my touch
aloof, exalted

Moon, guardian
hanging in inky black
glimmering
shimmering
illuminating the world
dispelling the darkness
darkness that envelops my soul
guiding, guarding

Moon, lover
silver light, heaven-sent
caressing
aching
soft kisses on my face
soft touch on my tears
soft whispers, love
nothing and everything breathes
sensuous, erotic,
nothing and everything
light embracing
my body, my mind
my spirit, my soul
my moon

Your skills are quite impressive, friend,
Of that there is no denial,
As I read through your poem,
I wors a constant smile.
You've got the job of getting ice,
And some exotic beers,
Let's not stop with the Devil's nose,
I want that Bastard's ears!                                                    

Thanks for a great work.                                                   

We of the Village are blessed with much talent.                                                    

Cheers from the Land of Oz                            

"Unfeeling (the merrigoround)"

Life just has a way of kicking me in the ass sometimes, it really does. *HUGS* Thanks for reading.
"Unfeeling (the merrigoround)"
doubts herself
doubts her trust
fate be a fickle foe
trust such a small thing
in such a large world
we are all betrayed in this life
if only by ourselves
yes i said my heart betrays me
yeah just when i thought i was
unfeeling and safe
locked somewhere where i
could no longer feel pain
something had to call me forth
and force me to live again
what is this life to me
where am i going to be next week
will she be up or will she be down
merrigoround
doubts herself
doubts her intentions
eyes are such weak creations
sight such a small thing
in such a sea of abandonment
we are all blinded in this life
if only by ourselves
yes i said sometimes i like to forget
yeah just because it's safer that way
unfeeling and safe
but then i remember there's
a million people like me
facing this same kind of pain
and i never want anyone
to hurt like that again
what is this life to me
where am i going to be next week
will she be up or will she be down
merri go merri go merri go round
doubts herself
i doubt myself
i doubt my strength
i doubt my will to live
i doubt my character
i doubt my emotions
i doubt my instinct
it's all failed me before
i'm such a weak creation
i'm such a small thing in such a
cold world
we are all forgotten in this life
if only by ourselves
yes i said sometimes i want to hurt myself
just so i can beat you to it
unfeeling and safe
i want to be unfeeling and safe
sometimes i want to be unfeeling and safe
sometimes i want them to lock me away
in a state of stasis
til this is all okay
what is this pointless life to me
where am i going to be next week
will she up or will she be down
it's an endless ride
on the merrigoround

The darkness
calls, softly,
seductively,
begging you to
sleep,
whispering
soothing, relaxing
words
in your
mind,
and you let
yourself be
blinded
by love,
by misguided,
misdirected
love wasted,
on the most
precious of
things,
begotten
in a dark
and vile manner,
and the rose colored
glasses you wear,
blind you to reality,
you to the future,
you to the suffering
you will succumb to,
all because...
you were a fool
to take back
the wrongs,
to let the
darkness back
inside,
even though
the love
smolders away,
dying, killed,
murdered,
by your own hand...

you killed my love,
killed for the
chance to make
a grave mistake,
the repercussions
you will feel
for life...
all for what?
all for what...

you left the circle...
you could have
walked away forever...
but you gave in
and let the circle of pain
suck you back in...
and now you know
you face it forever,
for it is too late
to break free...

you've signed away
your life, your future...
all for what...
all for what...?
You're part of the
circle now...
you cannot break free,
bound by a chain of wrongs,
tied to your death,
like I am tied to the other half of my soul...
inexplicable,
inexorable,
inexpiable...

Listen to the whispers,
they call you silently,
breaking tears from your eyes,
sapping your soul away
leaving nothing save
the emptiness of unhappiness,
the cold feeling that you know
you're not needed anymore...
that anything you could've
provided, was forsaken
and replaced by insanity,
you find yourself...limping
through life, unhappy
even though you're where
you want to be,
and you listen to the whispers
that stare you in the face
every day, and you can't
escape the fact...
that you weren't ever needed
that you weren't ever wanted,
that you were merely used
and thrown away...
then picked up again,
to be used again,
to be thrown away again...
you know the circle,
you see it every where
you look...even...
in your own reflection...
and it makes you wonder
why you are who you are,
why you struggle the way you do,
when every one else
just gives in...
and you wonder why
you never thought of that before now...
why not just walk away,
leave this lonely existence,
and find...nothing...
it would be the same
as here, only without
the pain...
so you wonder...

Private side

 This is a moment for myself
It's just me and no one else
I'm all alone right now
Put up my feet and rest my head
This is a moment for myself

This is a moment for myself
I'm obligated to my health
To keep some privacy once in a
while
So there you see
This is a moment for myself

So please let me be
surrounded by serenity
So please let me be
in here, wrapped in privacy
Away from everyone
Away from everything
This is a moment to myself

No, all you Unwashed Bastards,
Get your mind from the gutter,
I know what you are thinking,
Those thoughts you shouldn't utter.
Charlie has talked about rhyming couplets,
And yes she is my wife,
But if you think that was anything rude,
Your mind is running rife,
For, yes, she posted a rhyming post,
As I am prone to do,
But the image of our rhyming couplet,
Has nothing to do with you.                                                    

:)                                                    

I still can't believe my wife is now                                                   

a member - good side - she meets all                                                   

my treasured Unwashed friends.
bad side - she meets all my treasured                                                   

Unwashed friends and uses the computer more.                                                    

Cheers from the Land of Oz

Virtual Star Embryology

Ancient times, perfect, solitude in the
desert
Air, atoms, the planet of causality

Yes, a native child
Conception
The embryo of philosophy

Egg, perfect, the origin in the nest
A stamen, a pistil, one seed

Yes, a native child
Growth
The child of philosophy

And Lunar Heaven, Mercurial Heaven,
Venusian Heaven
Solar Heaven, Martian Heaven, Jovian
Heaven
Saturnian Heaven, Sidereal Heaven,
Motive Heaven

Further circular infinity without end

One organic system
One perpetual motion device

Ah, it is an empty movement
That is an empty movement. It is.

-J.A. Seazer

=) 

"vinegar wounds"

Disclaimer: There is no disclaimer. I'm in a very testy mood and this is how I'm feeling right now. It's a dark poem, I guess, kinda my way of venting without injuring anyone emotionally or physically.. Um, it's a jealousy/insecurity/completely confused writing, not really sure why I'm posting, but er, I am. So here it is. =P
"vinegar wounds"

you are a goddess
you are a demon
you transcend me
even when i'm dreaming
i hate you
and yet i love you too
and when i think about it
i don't know what to do
i don't like to think
i'd rather just live
don't talk about the future
because the past i can't forgive
how can i deny someone
something they want so bad
how can i allow someone
if it makes me feel this bad?
i get so sick sometimes
living off of bile
and mismatched rhymes
i can't spit my venom on you
because you don't understand
the things you do
you mean me no harm
yet i perceive you a threat
cuz my indirect pain
is for your benefit
i want to go somewhere and cry
want to vomit up blood until i die
because if i can't be the only
i don't want to be the any
i've never been okay
with winning second place
i can never take that trophy
and keep a smiling face
but what if
yeah what if
what if i'm not good enough
to win first?

The city streets
I walk alone
People passing by
With measured steps
And steady gait
No-one meets my eye

They turn without seeing
Away from my path
I journey on with ease
My destination unknown
But what does it matter
My therapy's walking the streets

Through wind or calm
Or rain or shine
Or sun hidden in the clouds
I'll still walk on
My head held high
But alone within the crowds

"Feel"

Now I stand here, waiting
Dark thoughts moving
To and fro, destroying, creating
Why must I feel?
Now, in the summer of my own discontent
I pray for my demons
To sleep and relent
You spoke the words they wanted to hear
I bid thee leave, come nowhere near
All this havoc, this damage wrought
Was our sacrifice for naught?
Injustice rears his ugly head
I beg to take your place
Let me be the lamb instead
These things I know, these things I see
I haven't changed, but I know I'm not me
No longer of iron
No longer of steel
I dread these dreams I know are real
I'm given a gift, the gift of rage
But I'm no prophet and I'm no sage
These moments of greatness
Our moments of pain
Was it worth it, all to stop this?
You offered shelter from the cold rain
I've seen my shadow and my angel flicker
And I've watched the devils come and whisper
Nothing to see, nothing to say
I can't stop her from going away
Why must I feel?
Humanity's a curse
And the vessel of fools
I look back upon this
And my rusted tools
No longer seem fitting, and in their disrepair
I'm no longer able to seek her there
So on I've waited my whole lifetime
Is feeling a weakness, is loving a crime?
Before I forever leave your light
I bid you all farewell and goodnight

Night Owl keeps on ragging me,
About my housework chores,
Well, this is not my favourite subject,
To me it always bores.
So, to appease the Poetry bastards,
I will get of my backside,
I will finally tidy up this place,
Before the proprty values slide.
So, where to start I wonder?
I think it's with the rug,
I'll carefully sweep up every crisp,
Every butt and bug.
Carefully I'll pile them up,
And to the right place bequeath,
I'll diligently store them in the right place,
Lift up the rug - underneath.
Then the dishes I will tackle,
Stacked precariously in the sink,
The cockraoches have been feasting,
The pile it sure does stink!
So, outside they shall all be thrown,
And for those that survive,
I shall hose the grimy bits off,
They shall know they're alive.
Them to the bathroom I shall venture,
Here we know it as a loo,
No stain shall be left unscrubbed,
I shall fear no poo.
The stains that are so tenacious,
I shall not be placid,
I will attack them with great gusto,
With hydrochloric acid.
The empty beer bottles will not go to waste,
This I will assure you,
Those suckers can be used again,
For Night Owl's Hellish brew.
The pizza cartons will be stored,
The rubbish truck coming soon,
Until then I'm sure the astronauts,
Will see it from the moon.
The tears in the upholstery,
With thread I shall soon mend,
Anything wider than a foot,
For professionals I will send.
The complaints from the neighbours,
And the legal writs,
I will direct them to Bill Clinton,
He'll be further in the, er, troubles.
The damage to the big tele,
For this Flipper we thank,
We'll seal it up with sealant,
And make a big fish tank.
For the damage to the paintwork,
It is easily mended,
We'll bag on some coloured clay,
And call it "artfully renderred".
For the low hanging chandalier,
Upon which was swung,
I won't name the culprit,
Or the causing type of fun, 
But I'll get a volunteer to go up,
And from the roof pull it through,
It is an easy fix you see,
And the least that we can do.
To finish of the cleaning further,
To be pleasing to the nose,
I'll venture down to the garden,
And run through the hose.
But all this thinking's made me thirsty,
I feel a little queer,
Ahhh, I'm not doing cleaning,
Give me another beer!                                                    

Cheers from the Land of Oz

"Antiquity Musings"

It's more of a victory poem to me than a dark one... it's real hard to explain but... *HUGS*
"Antiquity Musings"
I had a necklace once
you would've thought it was the prettiest thing
cuz yeah it shined in the light
and i guess maybe i was sweet-talked too
but anyway
i had this necklace once
and everyone loved that shining strand
cuz yeah he shined in the light
and i guess maybe i was blind-faced too
but anyway
i had this necklace once
and it could get past anyone undetected
cuz yeah it shined in the light
and i guess maybe i was enchanted too
but anyway
i had this necklace once
and he could twist so many ways around the truth
cuz yeah he shined in the light
and i guess maybe i was frightened too
but anyway
i had this necklace right
and it was choking me in the darkness
cuz yeah it only shined in the light
and i guess maybe i was worthless too
but anyway
i had this necklace once
and it was choking me
i wasn't a brave girl
was just so terribly vain
so i kept wearing it
til the bruises showed
and i finally gave it up
cuz i needed to let go
so i tore it from my neck
and i threw it to the floor
and now when they look at him
their faces don't shine no more
yeah cuz now they see my pretty necklace
not shining in the light
but wrapped around me in the dark
i had this necklace once
you would've thought it was the prettiest thing
but i don't let him like like that anymore.

*HUGS* And there it is.

Life
burns me...
a mere glance
flays the flesh
from my bones,
leaving burned
scarred, husk
of fleshless skeleton,
broken wings,
shattered limbs,
whispering,
whispering,
let me in...
darkness let me in...
take me,
love me, bleed me free
of sanity,
let my sympathy
run dry,
let my heart
beat die,
sever me of my tears,
bind me to the painless void,
scatter my thoughts to a million
starpoints,
explode my brain unto a billion
worlds,
shrink my heart beneath infinity,
tear my wretched soul into
a million flocks and a billion folds,
strip my emotions, rip them free,
bind them to the stars,
for all to see,
but don't...
don't give up my vanity...
it's the only thing
that listens to me...
everything else...
take it all
just let me see,
my impact on the vague,
ethereal realities...

The light is gone
the fire quenched
he's felt the ice cold touch of death
such as so shall we
afterwords we wonder if there's a place for those
Who have escaped this fragile thing called life
at first he shock will leave you numb
and then sets in the rage
we curse the fate that looked around
and chose our loved ones to take
The anger fades, our curse's die on our lips
and the the feeling that your all alone
settles above your hips
staring down at the one we loved
so blissfully unaware
we realise that their smile will see no more
we shake our heads slowly
taking the time to mourn
for all we can do in end
is slowly walk out the door

Thank-you Night Owl for your words, 
You're faster than a snail, 
Getting the autodetection every few minutes, 
Of my incoming mail. 
That should keep away the nazis, 
That want to disconnect, 
Now I'll be connected lots, 
But my marriage will be wrecked! 

thanks for the idea, bud.   

Cheers from the Land of Oz   

"Disappointment"

disappointment
i see it dripping from your face
just like the others
nothing more than a waste
cuz i was the perfect one
at least in your eyes
now i've given reason
to call up your despise
someone please hate me
cuz i'm hating myself
and i'm trapped in a corner
and i could use some help
disappointment
i was the one who was gunna be
something bright
i was the one who was gunna
set everything right
now you walk right by me
i was destroyed before my start
when they tainted my skin
they must've tainted my heart
someone please hate me
cuz i'm hating myself
and i'm trapped in a corner
and i could use some help
disappointment
just like everyone else
i kept my secrets
as long as i could
and in the end, just like them
i'm no good.
well
i'm disappointed too
in the lack of support
i've gotten from you
cut me deep
you went to the other side
and all the guilt
is in my eyes
someone please help me
cuz i'm hating myself
and i'm trapped in a corner
and somedays
there's no ways out
i'm going to be alright
once i get across
but this is hard to do
when the bridge is lost.

I read your piece with great interest,
It was a great piece of work,
But something need to be clarified,
What is it that's limp, Lerk?                                                    

I sympathise with your poetic surprise,
With poems that do not rhyme,
The medium is satisfying, yet oddly bitter,
Like lemon with a twist of lime.                                                    

Cheers from the land of Oz         

Discerning readers would be aware,
Of the Ymir family plot,
To hostilely take over the Unwashed,
To rule in our own right - NOT!
It seems that my raving of the lst few months,
Has intrigued a few of the clan,
They have joined and posted,
There is no insidious plan.
So, be nice to my nephew Pugsley,
And Charlie, my wife,
But to my sister Craggy Crone,
Give her ALL sorts of strife!                                                    

;)                                                    

Cheers from the Land of Oz
(and we're breeding ..........)        

Bodies, so many bodies
Pressing closer
Shoving
Pushing
Surrounded on all sides,
Can't breathe

Yet I must breathe,
Must force my way through
Onward, ever onward
Giving as good as I get
Push for shove,
Shove for push,
Nearer, nearer...

Black and white clad masses
Lash at me as I pass;
I brave the sharp stabs,
The cackling,
The hooting...
Must succeed,
Must get through!

Weary,
Stumbling,
I arrive at my goal.
Bright eyes turn to me,
My love speaks...

"inward analysis"

Fianlly managed to write something that kinda captures the way i've felt this week. *HUGS* Thanks for reading.
"inward analysis"
stretch--
yes,
the pain is there,
but i'm numbing
i'm too mind numbing
to feel it
walk with such grace
keep your face straight
ahead maybe tilted
to one side
and sometimes i wonder
how you've kept alive
years in the dark
feed off of nothing
burning away your skin
and your spirit
so little will left
so little thrill left
but I promised I'd keep you going
so many people but myself
cuz i never asked for you
and i never wanted you
so you better keep running
better keep on your feet
when you're facing me
i saw you
look him straight in the eyes
and keep on
moving
i was so proud
but you're not moving
anywhere but circles
makes me sad when i think
but i don't often think
because i'm numbing
so mind numbing
thought i'd be someone else
maybe after awhile
thought i'd grow up
and beyond
maybe after awhile
thought we'd be someone else
but i was deluded
as always
i'm still you.

No-one is more surprised than I,
To be replied to by my sister,
Her reply was so unexpected that,
I very nearly missed her.
Even more surprising was,
To get a poetic reply,
Her grasp of the English language,
Reaches for the sky.
But, take heart my feathered friend,
We are not in Star Wars,
The power of the force flows in me alone,
In her veins it does not course.
What force am I referring to?
Why, you tub of lard!
I'm talking about the most powerful force,
That of the Poetry Bastard!
Besides, I do not remeber seeing,
Craggy Crone on the member list,
So, CC go and register your butt,
Or consider it goodbye kissed.      

Hee hee, doncha love sibling rivalry?     

Cheers from the Land of Oz

NO, this in't directed at anyone here, just need to vent some RL frustration..
Listen

Shh.

Quiet.

Listen

What does it take

To get you to stop

Words

Flowing

In

Co

He

Re

Nt

Ly.

Quiet.

Shh.

I dont want to hear it.

He doesn't want to hear it.

Just shut up.

I've heard this story

Five times before

Keep

It

To

Your

Self.

Shh.

Listen.

All I wanted

Was to be heard.

Just once in a while

A whisper
of quiet insanity,
too many voices,
yet they all
speak the same,
too many words,
and they all
sound inane,
coughing through
fits of laughter,
breaking silent
tears, in hopes
that one day
tears will come
no more,
and tired eyes
gaze
and gaze
blankly,
looking at
not what's there
but what's beyond,
what isn't,
what might be,
what of it
sounds fictional,
sounds the best,
and I beg
the voices,
my insanity,
to visit upon me,
the best
of my imagination,
and always
am I
disappointed,
always
never answered,
always
bleeding
the quiet tears
forth,
streaking slivers
of silver,
in a sea
of water-soluble
sanity

Don't take my whispering away...

"Wonderful Mush"

Mush, mush,
Wonderful slush,
Orphanage breakfast
And love are made of
This yucky paste,
This sickening goo,
I hardly notice the taste,
When the mush comes from you

Chorus:
Don't take that out of context!
CC, stop implying I'm talking about sex!
This is a crap love song, for humour's means!
And *maybe* it's got a lil inneundo in the seams..

Mush, mush
I'd have it any day
Disgusting as it is,
If you don't want it, send it my way
But the problem with mush is
The more you pass out
The more comes back to you
In mushy turnabout!

Chorus:
Don't take this out of context!!
Icky, get your mind off of sex!!
This is a crap love song, for humour's means
I've got to stop laughing, 'fore I burst some seams.

Mush, mush,
I kinda like the feel of the sludge
And once I start dining
Can't get me to budge
Naw, my affections
Are hard for me to give
And once you get em,
In mushiness you'll live

Chorus:
Don't take this out of context!!
For once in my life, I'm not alluding to sex!!
This is just a crap love song, made to get a laugh
Hopefully I've succeeded at that!! ;)

Mush mush mush,
I always want some more,
And each time I'm hungrier
Than I was before
I still think the stuff's nasty
And tastes kinda funny,
But I guess I kinda like it
When it comes from my honey ;)

Sitting upon the steaming surface,
A frothy, mtlled meniscus,
The undissolved coffee swirls,
Conjouring feelings quite propitious.                                                    

The prospects of a caffeine injection,
Brings me to my knees,
Filling me with delicious expectations,
We're an example of syzygy.                                                    

For, with my daily coffees,
I associate pleasing things,
Of relaxing all through the day,
And the pleasures that it brings.                                                    

Of finding time to have a break,
At some time in my hectic day,
Kicking back and relaxing,
Pleasing in every way.                                                    

Or the times after dinner,
When the washing up is done,
Feeling a pleasing calmness,
Experiences better - there's none.                                                    

Cheers from the Land of Oz