Spark

Where am I
where have I been?
travel the world
lost in sin,
I've lost who
I've been,
I hide in my skin,
cowering in the dark,
begging for the spark,
hearing with eyes
filled by clarity,
seeing with ears
troubled by sanity,
I never bled the knife
straight down to the bone,
a grinding separation
of skin and stone,
yet I burn inside
I yearn inside,
the anger hatred pain,
lost to me again,
the divine inspiration
of cauterization,
severing semblances
of sympathetic circumstances,
the will to bleed poetic
words and phrases,
to scrape my veins
to dredge my brains,
and shatter the chains
that slipped around my wrists
when I grew complacent,
as the creativity dried,
curled up and died,
was buried deep inside,
as to myself I lied,
I seek myself again,
travel the world
lost in sin,
where am I
where have I been?

Oh MSN, why do you wound me so?

By Skeleton Jack.

Oh MSN, why do you wound me so
You refuse the uninstall,
or even give an option to do so
A use tried to install you,
while double clicking like mad
Now I have to deal with you,
while windows settings you have grabbed
You refuse to let go,
or even acknowlege you exist
Now I'm stuck trying to setup windoze,
while it is still in your grip
No matter what I do,
nothing seems to change
I have the sudden urge,
to go and jump on B'hill G'hates head

Nothing has worked,
for a moment I am at a lost but suddenly a plan form in my head
It looks like Windoze was miss-installed,
it's somebody else's problem instead


I take a look around
at the technical world today.
I wonder where we went wrong
where our brilliance went astray.

The people are using
all the technology at hand.
But if we are so modern
why do so many not undestand.

I spend 5 minutes waiting
at the cash machine.
The person in front of me
just cant seem to understand.

The customer's are on the phone
complaining that the net doesn't work.
I calmly have to tell them
they has to hit OK first.

Some people dont believe
that the password does indeed work.
For some reason they get mad
when told their caps lock was hit.

We learned to drive cards
even though at first they were ignored.
Sill that happen to computers
can our hopes be so bold?

Then I take a look around
at the way we drive today,
and suddenly I'm happy
most of us dont use computers today.

I dont know if it's art, but I like it.

"leftovers"

don't give me christmas trees
and tinsel taped to the walls
it doesn't make up for anything
all these years spent inside
a frozen puddle has left me
in a dizzy spell, in a personal hell..
just like everyone else,
left me
[leftovers
could feed them to the dog
but the dog is dead and gone
dead and gone and buried to me
and i'm the leftovers]
i try to smile but it isn't that
time of year anymore for me
used to warm me up used to make me
want to sing along with all the bad
Christian Christmas songs but it's
left me awhile for those who deserve a smile
just like everyone else,
left me
[leftovers
pass them on to the family
a family i don't know and don't care to
have known them all of my life,
and they still don't know me
though i am them, their leftovers
and i'm the leftovers]
once i wore an angel dress
i can barely even remember back then
innocence has long since abandoned [left me]
and for once in my life
there's no lights burning on Christmas night
everything has left me to my own device,
to the inner ice, to the part of me that used to see
the part that dreamed that i was all right
but that soul has left me
just like everyone else,
left me
[leftover
why is it you
always feel so unwanted dear?
is it the way they pick at you,
is it the way they ignore you,
is it the way they discard you
the way they disregard you..
yes, i understand all too clear,
i'm the leftovers]
tell me,
what is this monster that gnaws at my veins
inside the empty gap within me?

I find it hard to comprehend,
How away from us she lures,
ShadowDancer, our much missed poet,
Whose words through all endures.
How can she be more gorgeous than,
Owl, or Bubes or me?
For with each and every fristy ale,
The more gorgeous I think we be.

heh heh - congrats, friend

"Bathroom Observations"

here i stand here, urinating
When will it stop?, I am still waiting.
As I pee, I look around,
From the tub, to the ground.

I notice all the things in here,
But as I begin, a noise catches my ear.
I try to hurry up the peeing,
for I am becomeing a scared human bieng.

The sound I noticed, noticed before,
Seems to intensify, happening more.
A run-away plot, I begin hatching,
For the noise I hear is a scrathing.

I look around to see what it is,
For I hope I am nearing the ending of my whiz.
I look around at this or that,
and then there I see my cat.

I feel stupid, for my crazy sudden fear,
the "menacing" noise I heard with my ear.
I look, and suddenly my cat I want to to hit,
For all the noise was, was her taking a Shi*!!

I feel more relaxed, and I am calm again,
Why the hell wont this urinating end?
So, i take more observations around,
I notice that my nose ring, I have found!!

I look at the cabnets, the toilet too,
the treat my cat left, a stinky poo,
Then I think, what makes her tick?
man, my cat, she must've been sick.

i notice everything, from the books to the funk,
I notice that I was'nt all I thunk,
for I always considered myself big,
but then I realize, I live like a Fuc*in' pig!!

Please respond and tell me what you think.

HYHYFT?

"Feels like going away"

A quick note... i have return-id from my trip, alive and well, if not somewhat warped by the strangeness that is our ever loveable Iggy. ;) I'm also probably as grounded as grounded gets... so... if you don't hear from me much in the upcoming days -- No, i'm not dead, i'm just in my room reading. =) Now read, damn you. ;)
*HUGS*
"Feels like going away"
eyes close on a dim day
sky falls
and i push it away
everything is either heaven or pain
can't tell the difference
it's all the same
does it have to be so cold,
does it have to be so cold in my ireland?does it have to be so cold...
because i can remember warmer lands..

there and then gone
home and then here
back to sleeping wrong
and all the illogical fear
there and then gone
coulda fooled me,
that felt a lot like home
there and then gone
now once again scorned
and once again alone
there and then gone

tell me,
does it have to be so cold,
this cold seeping through my bones,
does it have to be so cold,
no, this ireland isn't my home,
does it have to be so cold,
does it have to be so cold,
does it have to be so cold in my ireland, for me?

and when can i go home..
when can i go home..
when can i go home..
to where i felt complete?
i'd walk,
but it's so cold,
i think i've lost my feet.

does it have to be so cold here, for me?

eyes close on a darker day
coming back to this place
feels like going away
when the pain dawns and the memories fade
yes, coming back to this place
feels like going away
does it have to be so cold,
does it have to be so cold in my ireland?
does it have to be so cold, this is not a home,
this is just a land of origin, does it have
to be so cold in my ireland?

I could not resist stepping in here,
As the future proud dad,
For an opportunity such as this,
Is a rare one to be had.
As for birth date I forsee,
- December 17 -
That way the tike will be a month late,
A bigger Mum won't be seen.
And as for weight - now let me see,
Pounds numbering eleven,
That way we will be rich and famous,
Being in media heaven.
And as for the sex of the child,
I'll say this in a burst,
Anyone trying to have sex with my kid,
Has to get through me first!
(That last bit came out wrong,
I'm not after casual sex fun,
But anyone wishing thoughts on my kid,
Well, meet my shot gun.)

Cheers from the Land of Oz
(I guess I'm not allowed to enter a serious one)

"What is happening?"
"why is my voice changing so?"
"OH GOD, PUBERTY!!"

thank you, thats one of my classics, here another.

"Dr Bones is gay"
" "Dammit jim, I'm a doctor" "
"Someone please shoot him"

Yea, ok, that one was cheesey, but hey, I was fellin' cheesy, and sorry to offend anyone who is a DR. Bones fan.:) Heres the last one..

"Why do you fight it?"
"you know you want to join me"
"BOW BEFORE KINGFREAK!!!!"

that one has a subliminal message, guess what it is?.. Anyway, I didnt mean to start a revolution, but, what the hell, join me, fellow Haikuers!!

"what is your problem?"
"cant you see the sign above?"
"No smoking, dumb-ass!!!"

Thank you, thank you...

"intensely burning"

Ok, i KNOW that doesn't make sense, but really, what would you all class it as?? =P

"intensely burning"

i wake harshly
from a dream in which i was
raped - killed - fed to dogs
revived - burnt at a stake -
called witch - watched my
youngest brother be eaten by
a hag - and prayed for by
people who did not have eyes
to see or ears to hear my
dying screams - no noses to
smell my putrid burning flesh

but you are there
a mess of arms and legs and
warm flesh, eyes melting me
into your endlessness
voice soothing over frayed
and relentless nerves,
so cool and smooth like a
mental honey and i am licking
love off of your lips
pain and dreams and past forgotten
in a sweet intangible moment
which flows into another
and another
and another

keep me with you always at your
side - i don't care if it's a
dream - i do not ever want to
wake - if this is false reality -
let me exist in the nothingness
that lies between real and
nonexistant - hopeless heart
beat is crying i am aching
from how bad i love you -
such feeling
such knowledge
of the words
-want-
-love-
-need-
burning under my skin
burning burning burning sweet one
but you have eyes to see my tears,
you have ears to hear my fevered whispers,
and you have hands to feel my scorching skin,
but here,
there is no smell of charring flesh.

i wake harshly,
but i return to sleep so sweetly.

You have been with me
A part of me
For so long that
It feels like you're inside.
But you wish to leave
leave the body
That has held you for so long.
Together we have struggled
Down life's lonely highways
Thwarted at every turn
Weary at every eve
But still you want to leave
Leave the body
That has held you so long.
Together we have laughed
Loudly at nothing
Nothing that others would see
Hear, or understand
But still you want to leave
leave the body
That made you what you are.
Until the point of parting
Rushes up to grab me
Wresting you away from
My last desperate grip.
But the hand of change is evil
Not at all embracing
Soon you are falling
Down the silent whirlpool.
You slip in soundlessly.
The water strangles your scream
Packages your pleas
As you quickly slip under.
But you have chosen to leave me
I ingore your plight
Your futile attempts to escape
Only cause me to smile.
I see you floundering pitifully
Trying to get a handhold
Trying to reach for
The help that is not there.
But you chose to leave
leave my caring body
And now you fate is sealed.
I care not as as a reach out
For the silver button
The button that is you doom
And you are flushed away.

Cr@p can be so selfish sometimes ....

:)

Cheers from the land of Oz

" OH NO!! God Dammit!!"
"this always happens to me!!"
"No toilet paper!!"

Thank you, I have many. Kinda poetic for a freak, huh?

Faded Silent

turn it on
turn it back,
broken record
off the track,
I hear the whispers
echo softly back,
in my mind
they yet remain,
unintelligible
and indistinct,
confused and garbled,
on the brink,
teetering on the
edge of clarity,
creeping toward
discernability,
even though they start
to coalesce, to clarify,
they crest upon
the wall of tangibility...
the burning whispers
fade and die,
severing a part of me,
a distinction without
clarity, melting back
within the flow,
the essence of
I'll never know,
a squandered premise
now voiceless whisper,
trickling syllables
ever quicker,
'til faded silence
reigns...
'til the whispers
start again

Insanity must be getting to me, but here it goes..

"That was cool, he he"
"When I shot that frog, he he"
"It wont croak again"

Thank you!! And now, a limerick..

There once was a man from nantucet, who.. uh oh, uh..never mind

"intensely burning"

Ok, i KNOW that doesn't make sense, but really, what would you all class it as?? =P
"intensely burning"

i wake harshly
from a dream in which i was
raped - killed - fed to dogs
revived - burnt at a stake -
called witch - watched my
youngest brother be eaten by
a hag - and prayed for by
people who did not have eyes
to see or ears to hear my
dying screams - no noses to
smell my putrid burning flesh

but you are there
a mess of arms and legs and
warm flesh, eyes melting me
into your endlessness
voice soothing over frayed
and relentless nerves,
so cool and smooth like a
mental honey and i am licking
love off of your lips
pain and dreams and past forgotten
in a sweet intangible moment
which flows into another
and another
and another

keep me with you always at your
side - i don't care if it's a
dream - i do not ever want to
wake - if this is false reality -
let me exist in the nothingness
that lies between real and
nonexistant - hopeless heart
beat is crying i am aching
from how bad i love you -
such feeling
such knowledge
of the words
-want-
-love-
-need-
burning under my skin
burning burning burning sweet one
but you have eyes to see my tears,
you have ears to hear my fevered whispers,
and you have hands to feel my scorching skin,
but here,
there is no smell of charring flesh.

i wake harshly,
but i return to sleep so sweetly.

Powerful poem, there Havok.
I liked your construction,
I liked your sentiments and your style,
To wreak management's destruction.
Tho, remember those who climb,
Up the management tree,
Aren't all of the type you described,
A case in point - me.
Leadership and management can be based,
Upon three main styles,
Authoritarian, laissez-faire or democratic,
All are different by miles.
I know my style is democratic,
Our organisation is moved,
Based upon collective deliberation,
For the result is then much improved.
But at the end I must decide,
What is best for the school,
For ultimately I am the accountable one,
And I'm nobody's fool.
Sure, there's idiots out in corporate land,
But this isn't just a hunch,
The idiots are getting less and less,
Don't label me with that bunch.

Cheers from the Land of Oz

There is one type of pepper so fine
To hear of it I'm sure you won't mind
Dried, powdered and vinegared
In Tabasco sauce is a winner-ger
'Tis of that fine red pepper called Cayenne

The road trip was a thirsty one,
They had travelled far,
Through the blistering desert,
In Ymir's car.
the jalopy was a wheezy one,
Tired and beyond its years,
They took it with some trepidation,
Their journey frought with fears,
Which proved to be founded ones,
Their sorrows they would drown,
The old car spat a radiator,
And promptly it broke down.
They pushed the chariot for many miles,
Through the sweltering heat,
Their tongues were lolling madly,
Many blisters on their feet.
But soon they reached a small town,
And raised a tried cheer,
Only to find the one watering hole,
Had JUST run out of beer.

Cheers from the Land of Oz
(Bourbon, then, Barkeep)

Grind

Do you ever wonder
about the futility
of it all...
That every little aspect
of your life
is simply an exercise
in self-indulgement,
meaningless other
than the artifice
society assigns you,
as your consciousness
breaks off
in small chunks,
shattering,
spiraling outward
leaving trails of
afterthought
bleeding through
the atmosphere
of your subconscious,
smearing,
confusedly concocting
random misaligned
phrases,
bearing unsweetened
sanity to the far
reaches of your mind,
shuffling brains cell
through a cyclic
infinity,
dredging all through
mercurial ecstasy,
searing your retinas
until your brain
confesses its desire
to surrender
and relenquish
all awareness
to the ever-present
grinding,
as wheat to
the millstone,
pulverized to
an ultra-fine granulated
powdery dust
fashioned in simplicity.    

Ravioli ravioli
You come from Boyardee
Ravioli ravioli
You're the greatest thing for me
To eat upon a summer's day
When all my family's gone away
Ravioli ravioli
How I extoll thee!

Aria enjoyed her pasta canned
And shared with us her joy
Too bad it was from the folk who use
That disgusting smiling boy (...-ar-dee)

Untitled (it's too cute to be named)

The most horribly cute thing i've ever written in my life. =)
Untitled (it's too cute to be named)

i love you so much
it makes me want to cry
and when you hold me,
i'm so happy i could die
or maybe just sprout wings
and fly
but i already feel so
incredibly high
i love you more
than the ocean loves land
coming back for more
over and over again
you hold my heart
right in the palm of your hand
and here i'd thought
i'd never trust anyone again
i love you so much my heart almost aches
and i'll follow this road with you,
wherever it takes
we were linked together
by the kindest of fates
i love you so much
it makes me want to scream
or pinch myself to wake
from this amazing dream
love you so much
with ever bit of my being
just for the record
want you to know
love you so much
and i'm never letting go

So there. =)

That's a great pice of Unwashed news,
I wish you a special day,
A special day for a special person,
That's all I have to say.
May your bronzed Aussie come your way,
Popping out of a birthday cake,
Then you can get down to serious work,
And blow him out for goodness sake.

Um, that came out wrong. I meant the candles.

;)

Cheers from the Land of Oz

"the last emotionless emotion"

Kinda quickly written... haven't even reread it yet... don't mind if there's any glaring typos.
*HUGS*

"the last emotionless emotion"

i cut off
my comfort and
my love and
everything i needed
to keep emotionally alive
perhaps the child
hurts so bad
that she silently
wishes that she could die
stopped my caring
stopped my craving
everything i desired i pushed
as far away as i could
do what you don't want
restrict what you do want
perhaps the child
wants acceptance so badly,
she thinks the suffering
will make her good
and now i open my fingers
now i spread my arms
now i cry...
hold me
begging for the comfort i
pushed away in times
when i could have used it bad
but i lie broken,
and the audience is gone
perhaps the girl
stayed afraid too long
and when she opened her eyes
all her toys were gone
and in their place
was a hurt so profound
that when her angels took flight
she was left there,
earthbound.

It is strange
the paths I tread
seem so close
to paths I walked
not so long ago
but so strangely different...
in my mind I hear
the echoes of ideas
begging to be scribed
onto the page
and where once
my pen would have
taken flight in a blur
to scrawl words in
form, now only does
my inner voice
struggle to find
any sensible meaning
in all and any
attempts to pen
thought to page...
I know not what
transpired
but only something
has misaligned
or broken
and attempts
to pinpoint
this resistance
continually fail
and my quill bleeds
dry scribbling
nonsense
but even nonsense
begins to sound
sensible
after a thousand
relentless repetitions
and I disgress
as always
everynothing
is nonsense to me.

There once was a poster called Night Owl
Who posted some posts that were most foul
I tried to compete
With his poetry so neat
But gave up and threw in the towel

Eh, off the top of my head at this hour,
what did you expect? Sophistication?
Maybe tomorrow. (yawn)

It's good to be back on the board,
Among my treasured friends,
We hope this move will bring us bliss,
the kind that never ends.
Perhaps we'll have more time,
To rest upon the board,
I sure have missed all the people,
I have met upon the board.

Hic!

Cheers from the Land of Oz

Beer is the panacea to all things,
It makes us see things clear,
Why, all the great philosophers had,
Discovered the joys of beer.
Beer is fuel to the mind,
It brings on creativity spurts,
And if it fails to do such things,
Then anebriation never hurts.
As for getting off on the wrong foot,
Just put forth the other one,
You'll find us occasionally aggressive,
But more often we're just fun.

Cheers from the Land of Oz

To join the ranks of Bastard
A simple yes would be inept
If I'm to be a poet
It's with verse I must accept

But first, the 'Pretender' comment
Was mere comic whimsical poses
All know poets can have no King
And still have access to the Muses

So I accept your invite with pleasure
And await the ceremony to anoint
Should I bring along some sort of sharpener
For you and your Stick with a Point?

Bloodied,
shattered,
broken arms
don't matter,
whispers,
twisted
disemboweled
dreams dismissed,
a visceral
slice,
cutting through
your flesh,
separating dream
from reality at best,
you remember me,
only when
the blade slices deep,
and unfettered you fly,
a simple spell
to make you never,
bloodied arms forever,
you war,
you wage,
you separate your fate,
but only broken dreams
meet you with a gleam,
you remember when
your heart was in the
right,
you've forgotten
what it was to be,
contrite,
you never skip a beat,
you never miss a feat,
you always have an answer,
but you never will retreat,
you've forgotten
what it was to be
human,
you remember only
what begins
as a shattered
resemblance
of humanity,
you once were
like me, but only
when you dreamed,
you brought about
my simplicity,
and never spoke
of such things,
as my divinity,
but now...
but now...
you are just
as broken
as I,
shattered
beneath the sky
as you beg for your end,
but only then
does it begin,
you forget your place,
whispers drawing you
towards fate,
even when
you contemplate,
your unremarkable
finality,
on this plane,
transcend,
so you might
bring about
the end,
and whisper
darkly in my ear,
my dear,
don't fight the darkness,
let it draw near,
embrace it,
love it,
make it one
with your self,
but never forget
you are the darkness
you once felt.

"begrudged"

Almost makes me wish i was a musical type of person... have a distinct tune in my head when i was writing it/rereading it. Well anyways. Enjoy, etc.
"begrudged"
i don't like you
i don't know how to live with you
I've grown to hate these things that
I used to know how to do
i don't know
exactly where it was i went...
but when i got back...
when i got back to this hell...
all the angels had faces i knew
and i had fallen myself

i don't like you...
i don't want to spend another day
i've grown to hate the fear that will not..
let me run away (from all of this)
i don't know when the changes came
don't know exactly when (and where) i changed..
but when i got back,
back to this broken place..
the angels all had faces i knew
and i had lost my faith

i don't like you...
i don't want to waste here with you
i've grown to loathe
all these things that i've learned to do
i don't know
exactly when i found my hate
but when i got it hard, well
all the angels had your fucked up face
and i wondered what nightmares had taken place

i don't like you
i don't want you beneath my skin
i don't like you
i don't like the things i hold within
i don't like you
i don't like needing you
i don't... like you, i don't want to be like you
i don't like you, can someone take me..
away...
from me?

but if you want proof,
well i tried to run from this hell
i ran i ran
i ran the devil's race
but when i came home here
all the angels had your.. fucked up.. face
and as hard as i try
to forget myself
i will never forget
your face..

i don't like you...
i said, i really don't like you...
i don't like you, i wish i could forget you
and right now i hate the things i cannot
remember how to do.
and the things that i can remember...
i have grown to hate them too.

You?
Me?
Where was I,
when I was free?
I bury myself,
in over-simplistic
realities,
never bothering
to find
commonalities,
I never could
quite understand,
the way you
ignore the darkness
just beyond your
vision...
I see it,
I breathe it,
I never forget
when my grandfather
died, I spent
several hours
with him,
never bothering
to think
this was his last night...
and then
the next morning,
he was gone,
his spirit flown,
to the beyond,
and I was torn,
sadness
and love
and confusion,
bearing me down,
never begging,
never breaking,
always around,
perhaps a whisper,
a fleeting thought,
a distant memory,
an emotion wrought
in painful memory,
if only I could remember
to burn myself in
effigy,
perhaps then,
you would care,
you would remember,
but then
what does it matter,
when mortal blood
slows, muscles atrophy,
and hearts corrode....
would you remember me?
would your friends
remember you? 

No longer Luffed by Lerk I am,
No sadder sight you'll see,
I am wrapped up in my lament,
My life is now a tragedy.
I have been chastised and rightly so,
By one wise old guy,
It seems that the board has moved on,
Like clouds across the sky.
While I have remianed standing still,
Just like an aged tree,
Hey - hang on - that can only mean,
That Lerk will now talk to me!

Not posting, right. Reading, yes. I can't promise our lifestyle change will bring about a change in my posting frequency, but that would be nice. Thanks for at least remembering my name.

Cheers from the Land of Oz

"small fish"

Goodness, I wonder who the culprit behind the inspiration of this was. ;) Yeah, I know, it's kinda short, and it's dreadfully cute but... 's what I felt needed to be said, and so here it is. ;)
*HUGS*
"small faith"

nothing in life
is certain,
but it's okay
to have a little faith
i will smile
when you are happy
i will hold you
when you are afraid
i'll be there
when you call for me
at any time
along the way
while nothing in life
is certain,
in this
you must have faith
i love you dearly
and always will
right until
my dying day.

"chipped shoulder"

 muscles torn
from too much sleep
so tired
i'd sell myself for peace
all the medication in the world
and it couldn't cure me
want to sink through
the surface of this dream
[told me things could change
that i deserved
a little rage
and what did it bring me
but more pain...
we are always so deviously
so subtly the same]
i know the nightmares
call them by name
reality more frightening
caught in the game
all the saviors in the world
and i'd drown just the same
want to break out
of the rotting picture frame
[told me you gotta fight for what's yours
that i deserved some peace
between wars
and what did it give me
but a little more remorse
you see we only save
what we are forced]
hands on fire
still nothing comes
mind so tired
still nothing numbs
inside my head
truth still drums
someone break me
give me an excuse
to give up control
let the terror loose
but all the excuses in the world
and i'd still blame myself
how many others have fallen
that i could have helped
[you said i've got to love myself
that sometimes i need
to reach out for help
but you just cannot help someone
who can't help their self
i said sometimes i really feel
i've got no soul left to sell]
i could have ended the circle..
then and there...
now nothing lends me solace
and everything leads me nowhere

Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack jumped over the candlestick
Jack burned his pants, Jack burn his shirt, MAN, that has GOT to hurt!
Jack Drove to the hospital with great speed, nobody knew of Jack's dire need.
Jack was stopped by the cops who held Jack at bay, they wouldn't listen, so Jack Sped away
Jack got there quick, Jack shredded gear, but the doctors looks gave Jack great fear
The rushed Jack to the burn center place, but the blisters had already reached Jack's face
Because of the doctor's efforts, they fixed Jack right up, but Jack learned his lesson...
Next time Jack better be wearing a cup!!!

You'd better be nice
You'd better not fight
You'd better not go spam anyone's site
Bert the Turtle's comming around

So, you'd go to the bar to order,
The attendant would nicely say,
"Can I get you some Exxon, Sir,
Or, how 'bout some Texaco today?"
"Nay, my fine and trusty barkeep,
Today I'm feeling brave,
Just get me a tall glass of water,
And about rust don't you rave."
"But Sir, if you drink water you'll seize,
You'll be frozen still,
You life will be worth nothing then,
Others will treat you like swill."
"Barkeep, now don't you anger me,
You don't need that strife,
For today I lost my beloved toaster,
That for ten years was my wife.
I inserted the appropriate material,
In the appropriate way,
But today she choked on the insertion,
And she lays dead today ...."

Cheers from the land of oz

Whispers,
star shattered
dreams,
broken
falling,
cascading
about me,
my eyes
full of tears,
never will
I hear,
a difference
when you make
sure my body
is cold and dead,
a blade thrust
through my heart
or my head,
I forgive
the darkness,
encroaching
upon my sight,
I forgive the
darkness
blinding me to
the light,
if only I could
breathe
that one final
last breath,
if only I could
tell you
how to dream,
as if you
were in my mind,
broken fragments
dragging down
my simple
mind,
perhaps...
perhaps,
it is only
my wish
to falter,
to fail,
to wish
upon the star,
to severe
my only hope,
to forget,
to forget,
to break free
without regret,
will you forget me?
will you remember?
will I care
once I've gone,
beyond repair,
beyond the simple
slip of time and space,
beyond
without disgrace,
would I have died,
fighting,
for what I believe,
or would I have died,
just like a sheep? 

"my shriek"

Kinda in a blecky mood.. But i think it's an okay piece.. Thanks for reading. *HUGS*
"my shriek"
shriek
child of the cold
hang your worthless head
still your bleeding heart
and cool your burning skin
i watch all of this
through a dream
like some unbelieving onlooker
just another silent scream
not a flinch from the strong one,
inside her skin
i'm the weak one
i cry but her eyes are dry
my shriek
[a facet of a face
and i thought i can't displace
an existence within a mind
no peace left here to find
i'm told she's beautiful
but we can't see it for ourself..
a question within an answer
she's a paradox in herself]
she's a child of the cold
bites her bitter lip
calms my coward's heart
and burns her cooling skin
i am helpless
in this scene
a detached onlooker
scared by what she's seen
not a motion on her face, the strong one,
far below the surface of her skin,
i'm the weak one
i hurt but she shows no pain
shriek
[twist her til she breaks
no voice from pain she makes
shriek a joke a secret sigh
is there still blood
in the tears you cry
we all have a way to ease the pain
shriek she screams just screams in vain
but no noise from the girl
with scars across the skin
never admit to feeling anything again
i tell you i remember her..]
she was a child when i was not
she was an adult when i could not have been
she relieves a desecration
mourning for a lost innocence
if i had tears i'd cry for her
but they're still frozen on my cheek
she's a child of the bitter
she's a child of the cold
she's a child of a tragedy.. she's
[the skin on my bones..
understand me when i say
shriek and i
were born on the same day
in the same place
in the same room
in the same breath
from the same womb
she's me when i feel nothing
i'm her hurt when i am hurting
she's my strength
and i'm her weakness
i'm the emotion
and she's the coldness..
i feel her pain and she moves my hands..
and i am the only thing heard in the darkness..
inside myself i am..]
my shriek

"Down which hill did a small child roll?"
The left, or the right?
"I think the tall.. or
the one in the fold?"

It had rolled with mirth
down the rubbles and dirt.
It did roll with bliss
through the dangerous bits

Finnaly it came to an end
it hit the small cabin by
the werewolves den
in the midnight's suppertime
Of frightened hipphopotemous.

Alicia is kind,
Alicia is sweet,
She makes me want her
like a dog thats in heat.

That made me look weird,
that made me look rude,
If I insult you just say,
"Hey stop dude."

Alicia is hot,
Alicia is nice,
She thinks she has a bad voice,
But she knows how to intice.

Alicia likes to draw,
And draw she does well.
But if I try to draw,
It just looks like hell.

I really like her,
I hope she likes me,
I want to treat her right,
And make her very happy.

A hearty welcome from this land,
Across the boiling sea,
I thought I would stop in to say hello,
From Charlie and from me.
We've been rather indisposed of late,
I've been working rather hard,
It's enough to frustrate any mortal type,
Including this humble bard.
My new job turned out to be great,
I applied for it and others,
I got some interviews from my CV,
Like my principally sisters and brothers.
It turns out that of the interviews,
They only numbered two,
But it seems I won both jobs,
Surprising, let me tell you.
Whilst I enjoyed my current job,
I chose another place,
It's nice to get a big promotion,
The smile's still on my face.
The sad news is that we must move,
To a place 200 miles away,
We have to pack up and sell our house,
Sad news I must say.
But we are excited about the news,
It isn't really that far,
Besides, the new place is really fantastic,
With a new kitchen and a spa!
Thus explains our lack of presence,
With our treasured horde,
And the lack of Oz-ite wisdom,
Fouling the UV board.
We move in another couple of days,
There is so much to do,
But we look forward to our new challenge,
By the Pacific Ocean blue.
So, when next we meet I will be different,
And Charlie will be too,
We'll be far more relaxed in the spa,
Thinking of all of you!

Cheers from the Land of Oz

"can't be helped"

Wanted to use this title for a poem for the past few days... finally found one to work it into. Meh.
Enjoy, or something like that.
"can't be helped"
think...
but nothing seems to heal me
sink....
can i kill these hands that feel me
destroy...
every thing that means a thing to me
pain...
from which you cannot free... me
i guess
i guess it can't be helped
i guess...
[a million miles
below this secret sea
they're selling my soul
and my memory for free
and you can't do anything
but watch it drown me
don't you know helplessness
is just useless misery]
i guess
i guess i can't be helped
i guess, i guess...
i guess
i guess i need to save myself..
but i'm drowning
yeah
i guess it can't be helped
know...
but knowledge leads to hate
feel...
these feelings will not dissipate
need...
only loss can i anticipate
fading...
in my decaying state
i guess
i said it can't be helped
i guess...
[if we're a game
is this my losing streak
what is my pain
yeah, what hurt this week
if we're all bones
am i the creak
and when i open my mouth
why can't i speak
if we're a spy
then i'm the leak]
i guess
i guess sometimes i just can't be helped
i guess, i guess...
i guess
sometimes i need to help myself...
but i'm failing
yeah
i guess it just can't be helped
think...
but thinking leads to doubt here
sink...
drowning in this fear.. of fear... of fear...
destroy...
i want no comfort near..
pain...
pain, pain... the only thing sincere
i guess
i guess it really can't be helped
i guess
[tell me why
you want to survive..
if this is the way
you're going to life your life..
tell me why
you want this to continue..
you like this pain,
now don't you?]
i guess
sometimes i really can't be helped
i guess, i guess...
i guess
sometimes... we learn to rebuild ourselves..
but i've FAILED
i've failed you, and i've failed myself
yeah
i've failed, i'm falling, flailing..
i guess i can't be helped
reach out..
when nothing means a thing...
reach out..
your hands to hold my nothing..
reach out..
i could drown without your help
reach out..
but i can't save myself
reach out..
but i can't take your hand
reach out...
can't you understand..
[i'm the thin red line
between a cut and a gash
i'm the difference between
a cigarette and an ash
i'm the second between
the kamikaze and the crash
i'm beginning to understand
my self at last
i guess this can't be helped]
i really can't be helped..
sometimes it can't be helped..
i guess
i guess it really can't be helped...
i guess, i guess
i better help myself.

Its funny when the window's
broken on the spine,
and snowflakes twirling
about my head,
with static of the radio
burning in my ears,
whispers floating through
where footsteps are tread,
I break down into calligraphy,
whirling and spinning about
as if dancing to a mad symphony,
tracing fingers flying through the air,
writing laserpoint words that disappear,
and as fingernails slice the layered ice
separation makes me blind and scared
hopping through from time and space,
dimension dooring all over the place,
stepping through holes cut from the whole,
doorways, passages, and rabbit holes,
sent to investigate, discover, and explore,
the window dressing in that department store,
wasn't really worth more than a copper piece,
so the ferret backs out in reverse,
accompanied by an intermittent beep,
hopping that mad little hop of excitement
reserved for exploring places heretofore
left undisturbed and unexplored,
once again through the dimension door,
hopping, twirling, madly swirling,
dancing a jig, and ready for more! 

I've observed all this verse,
Ymir is tracking down.
Going from bad to worse,
But this one wears the crown!

A grubby group of chaps,
with psychopaths replete!
The oddest place, perhaps,
for POETS to compete!?

And yet we have 'em all,
from Warriors to to Boffins.
And Battlemechs and Dogs
And Reapers kind in coffins!

A truly diverse grouping,
in microverse complete.
All joined together, hoping,
That Fallout 2's as neat!

And now this rhyme is done,
before my mind is squashed.
So far it has been fun,
Being one of the "Unwashed"!

The computer whirrs contentedly,
As the cars travel down our street,
Tyres hurling dripping insults at each other,
When perchance they meet.
The rain has eased off a little,
The trees they sigh and moan,
The smell of freshly delivered pizza,
Wafts through our treasured home.
The party down the road has started,
The radio has begun to blast,
It won't get rowdy without more alcohol,
And until midnight has slunk past.
The house contains an eerie silence,
A calm before the storm,
For when SEH wakes again,
So will the dervish storm.
I wait in anticipation for 7:30,
Bourbon my favoured drink,
For I need all the mental lubrication,
To allow me scope to think.
For at 7:30 comes the mental challenge,
My intelligence shall be tested,
As I writhe in the hallowed pursuit,
I will need to be well rested.
For at 7:30 I need to be alert,
As you shall surely see,
For at 7:30 I must be ab;e to concentrate,
On the football on TV.

Cheers from the land of Oz

"counter productive puddles"

Just came out... dunno where it came from though.
"counter productive puddles"
chocolate soda
what's that
you said
i've been so far gone now
lately
i haven't been filling
my glasses past the line
cuz i'm too afraid
too afraid i'll spill
oh,
tie me to this life
or lay my head on the
counter productive puddles
nothing can come
of nothing
lately
i've been trying to stand,
understand things
that exist only within me
and the sick sweet syrup
at the bottom of a dream
of a life lived long lived life
of a scream
or the side of a glass
of chocolate soda
yes,
you said
it is all confusion to me.

"the cynic with the bloody hands"

Wasn't going to post cuz i know there's an overflow of poems on the board right now, but oell. I've just been in a really poor mindset today, and here's what's come out. Not really fond of it but... maybe one of the most brutally honest piece i've ever written. Comments/etc appreciated.

"the cynic with the bloody hands"

I tell you i believe in so little
so little good in the world
so little beauty
that comes without pain
so little truth that does not
scream in vain
well, let me tell you
what i still believe in.
I still believe in nightmares
and in facing the appropriate
direction while sleeping
i believe in the inability of
existence of a sanctity of family,
i believe in the betrayal of innocence,
i believe that in a perfect world
innocence might still exist,
i believe in the child in the closet still
screaming though her captor
is years gone down the road
will never grow up, trapped in the self stasis of self hatred
I still believe that anxiety can kill
for every beat my heart skips i lose
10 seconds of my life
i believe that this sickness rising in me
will haunt me forever,
and i can't get to a black or a white,
i believe in eternal shades of grey
i believe in the ease with which one blames
oneself before blaming someone who
should have loved you and did not
i believe that all people are secret monsters
and that i am one of them
i believe in the fever which tears at my skin
and the tears which corrode my eyes
and i believe in the destructiveness of the memory of
a tainted child's cries,
the scars other people give us and the scars we give ourselves,
those that can be seen and those who are kept eternally hidden
rotting scraps of decayed innocence.
These things are what i believe in,
what i've been shown of life
you can't expect me to overcome this all
in the blink of an eye
I can't help but try and protect now
the most precious things of mine
and if i said i ever thought i'd recover
i think that'd i'd be lying
if you want to love me,
you've got to understand the waste in my head,
you've got to see the agony that i've lived by
have to know some how that it
isn't that i don't trust you it's that
i don't trust life.
i believe that these wounds festering in me
may never heal again
but if you want, i'll still let you
hold my bloody hand.

My life is one of frantic energy,
And as I go rushing past,
I often eflect upon my existence,
And that it's fading fast.
My time at school seems to grow shorter,
Though there I spend so many hours,
To do that job effectively,
I need to have super powers.
Then, due to my procrastination,
I didn't study at all,
Instead I chose to do other things,
So I was due for a fall.
I had twenty weeks to do the work,
But that was not for me,
Instead I pretended it was not there,
And did it in just three.
Then, there's the demands of being a Dad,
And being a husband too,
But our house isn't really just a house,
It's more like a kind of zoo.
For, Charlie is also the busy type,
And SEH contributes too,
With such craziness a way of life,
Through our lives time flew.
I often feel as if I'm running around,
With my hair on fire,
And wonder about life when I die,
Whether I go lower or higher.
In heaven I'm sure I'd be too busy,
All the new angels to educate,
Then there's all that harp playing to do,
I'd be busy, you'd appreciate.
But more surely I'm off to Hell,
And the Bastard Bar,
It might me a bit more uncomfortable,
But more interesting by far.
And you Bastards will keep me busy,
Pouring your favoured drinks,
I think I'll have to bite the bullet,
And hire help - it stinks!
For, that will eat into the profits,
But me this does not scare,
I'll just put my feet up and have an ale,
For by then I just won't care.

Cheers from the land of Oz

you're everything you want to be
accomplished, gracious and great company
it makes perfect sense, you're never hated
but then, appearances are overrated
you speak the language everyone knows
take over when the conversation slows
another self made luminary or
maybe just the ##### toothfairy
i'd send that brain you ration
to feed the smallest starving nation
but diet aftertaste is rude
and i can't digest a single word

In darkness, twisting wraiths,
broken wrists pose no restraints,
has it been so long,
the words have gone?
the wraiths twist back,
to hear bones snap
and broken bones grind,
the emptiness expands
as darkness brands
my skin, fading painlessly away,
yet the words never stay...
they once came so easily,
flowing so seductively, now
not even force holds them at bay,
they flee my mind with ease,
I can no longer constrain
the ethereal wisps that once played,
inside my mind, inside my time,
like a broken clockwork misaligned,
the wheels turn ponderously,
yet revolutions pass ineffectually,
has it been so long,
that my soul has gone?
Can darkness bring it back again?
Would misery replenish me?
or have I simply given in?
relenquished
retired
expired
expelled my own sinister spirit,
forsaken my malevolent muse,
broken free of maniacal melancholy,
and found happiness...?

"Self Esteem"

PG for one naughty word at the end. I have written so little of late. Sigh. 
Don't ask why.
It's just that I
Can't accept a compliment.
I'm not saying that
You're a liar, yet
I just cannot accept.
Yes, I mind
Your words so kind
Take them away, please.
Understand that I hate
This skin you celebrate,
And I want you to hate it too.
Don't give me all the compliments in the world.
Not a one of them will stick.
Because underneath the beauty
I can still smell the shite.

"this is what they gave me"

Maybe a little on the (ya right) literal side for me. ;) *HUGS* Thanks for reading.
"this is what they gave me"

a broken hand
and a bruised heart
some torn skin
and me torn apart
a hatred of mouths
inability to lie
disgust for myself
unable to cry
nightmares in the dark
illness in a head
misery in secret
and innocence dead

(this is what they gave me)

a secret shame unto myself
shift the blame unto myself
call the names unto myself
inflict the pains unto myself
unable to maintain--myself
unable to regain--myself

[this is what i'm left with]

a body that shakes when there should be tears
a mind that draws constant the same old fears
a memory, a reminder that never disappears

(this is what they gave me)

a reason to hate myself further, a fast track to a slow decay, a reason to be ashamed, a rationalization of this pain, a reason to make myself sick with the thought of names and faces and places and words so wicked so vile so unashamed in their corruption, a hatred of mouths tongues teeth saliva lips mouths... & am i off the edge of sanity again?

[this is what i live with]

(and this is what they gave me.)

you might never believe the power in knowing
you can hurt you worse than anyone else
you can be more disgusting
you can be more terrifying
you can be more crude and you can be more painful
than anyone else
until that is all you have to cling to
.. when all the safety in the world
is only what you've created in your own head
only what you've created with your own hands
then you can know the true hatred
the true hatred of self
.. only in that blindness can you understand that sight.

{this is what i'm left with

and this is what they gave me.}

tell the tale of one Red Owl,
The silliest by far,
For each part would meet the other,
Inebriated at the bar!

Cheers from the Land of Oz

Hope you had your fun
And got lots of laughs
Cause I'm gone
And I'm never coming back

So laugh it up
One more time
Before I hit the road
And sink six feet

This skin of mine
Will finally be shed
Cast away the old
Cast away the dead

And you say it's okay
No, that's all right
I know that, but
You don't care anyway

Here by the roadside
I'll sit and wait
For my chariot to come
And take me home

Black on black
With the extended back
It's my ride home
And Mr. Skull head's driving

So, as our paths
Part ways one last time
I'll look at you
"Wanna go for a ride?"

Necrophilia

Translucent anguish
rock-hard futility
He clings

He clings
to
the faded
photo-memory
of a woman
that never was

ideal is
the she
he wanted
to be
and thought
she was

stolen smiles
voyeur glimpses
salted residue
on kodak paper
he clings

can't let go
of the memory shade
can't face
the world when
all the world's
a mirror
and all
you see
your own
quiet truth.

-----------

"The fish"

Weird is really the only thing I can term this I spose. It's raining out, and it made me think and stuff... anyways. *HUGS* Comments appreciated as always.
"The fish"
is it still raining
am i still sleeping
beneath the waves
am i still breathing
can someone tell me?
can someone find me?
[one fish two fish red fish blue fish
one fish two fish one two three
so many fish but are they me]
or am i drowning
in the depths of this sea?
is it still raining
and is this pain
can you tell me this hurt
is only the rain
can you would you could you
save me?
[one fish two fish red fish blue fish
hook caught in my mouth but i'm so selfish
one fish two fish one two three
so greedy to expect anyone to help me]
or am i safer
in the depths of this sea?
is it still raining
have they gone yet
am i all forgiving
and can i forget
can someone twist me?
can someone revive me?
or am i already drowned
in the depths of this sea?
[one fish two fish red fish blue fish
one last wish fish
then fried on a plate and served
up dead fish
but do we fish realize this]
is it still raining
am i still sleeping
or am i waking
screaming and weeping
and no one helped me
and no one saved me
i was impaled
on the waves of the sea
but someone tell me
is it still raining
are my lungs overflowed
[one fish two fish red fish blue fish
these days we've got gills, you know]
i know its no fault but my own
this path that i've followed
but is it still raining
has my nightmare come to an end
now that i've drowned so far
i'll never breathe again
[one fish two fish red fish blue fish
trapped in a fishbowl laziness
death by stagnation they lable this
one fish two fish dead fish blue fish]
is it still raining
am i still sleeping
i must be dreaming
for again i'm breathing
can someone tell me
can someone remind me
that i have become the fish
and survived this sea
[one fish two fish red fish blue fish
you will overcome the waves
and survive this
one fish two fish one two three
we have faith in the little fishie]
can someone tell me
can someone remind me
sometimes this strength
needs to come from me.

From the mists journyed Doomir,
A poet and artiste,
This lethal combination would dominate all,
Well, the literary world at least.
For, with the combined sardonic wit,
And a temper short and terse,
Those killer pics would be just awesome,
When combined with verse.
And if a picture paints a thousand words,
When combined with poetry,
The resulting blend would be wonderful,
Or, that's how it seems to me.

(Tho, I'm biased)

Cheers from the Land of Oz

I think you got a low self opinion man
I see you standing all by yourself
Unable to express the pain of yor distress
You withdraw deeper inside
You alienate yourself
And everybody else
They wonder what's on your mind
They got so tired of you
And your self ridicule
They wrote you off and left you behind

You sleep alone at night
You never wonder why
All this bitterness wells up inside you
You always victimize
So you can criticize yourself
And all those around you

The hatred you project
Does nothing to protect you
You leave yourself so exposed
You want to open up
When soneone says
Lighten up
You find all your doors closed
Get yourself a break from self rejection
Try some introspection
And you just migth find
It's not so bad and anyway
At the end of the day
All you have is yourself and your mind
The self hatred that blinds you
Binds you grinds you keeps you down
The world falls down around you
You buil up walls around you
You wear disgust like a crown

If you could see the you that I see
When I see you seeing me
You'd see yourself so differently
Believe me

I know the self doubt that runs inside your mind
I know the self doubt that treats you so unkind

If you could see the you that I see
When I see you
You would see things differently
I assure you

It starts
softly,
a whisper
in your ear,
a tickle really,
an builds,
rolling down
your eardrum,
with the tiniest
of echoing
whispers,
building
to half winded
voice, rising
to full strength,
growing
to powerful
shout,
reverberating
wildly upon
your mind,
blasting away
ideas unrelated,
consuming every
thought before
it can escape,
driving your
mind again
to her soft,
supple,
whisper...

"if i could"

I'm really feeling just.. I don't know. I'm just a mess at the moment.
*HUGS*
Thanks for reading.

"if i could"

for the first time in so long
someone has challenged me
and my little throne of misery
suffering so sour made so sweet
shards of a person so incomplete
but you say i've none of the faults i see,
what do you know,
what do you know of me?
if i could let you,
i would let you throw this all away
if i could let you,
i would let you make me unafraid
if i could let you,
i would let myself be saved
if i could let you,
if i could let you,
if i could let you find a way
oh, can no one see
the sky and the ground
are one for me
trapped in my kaleidoscope
such hurtful beauty
[himemiya, himemiya anthy]
if i could let you,
i would let you break me free
if i could let you,
i would let you save me
if i could let you,
i would let myself believe
if i could let you,
if i could let you,
if i could let you lend me sanctity
i'm too sick to die and too weak to stand
scorning every helping hand
because they don't know the nightmares
these flames have fanned
[and if i could, i wouldn't deny them that innocence]
if i could let you,
i would let you keep me here
if i could let you,
i would let you stay near
if i could let you,
i would release my fear
if i could let you,
if i could let you,
if i could let you hold me dear
someone save me from myself
someone save me from myself
someone save me from myself
someone let me drown in me
i love my chains, don't want to be free
and all i need to live is my misery
someone save me from myself
no, abandon me with me
for i feel the way it's always been
is the way it should always be.

My many thanks for all your efforts,
For the humble UV,
You are an honoured and treasured friend,
To all, including me.
Your work, your wit, your plithy posts,
Your efforts all first rate,
You are one of the many reasons why,
The Unwashed are so great.

Cheers, and thanks again.

-The Refreshments, "Buy American"

Sinister hornblasts travel
Through the roof of a ghostly cathedral
Rotting in the Plains of Desperation.
Facing a fire-blackened tabernacle,
Supplicating on a pew made from human bones,
Speaking to an altar stained with the sudden horror of blood,
A single churchgoer whispers half-formed thoughts
Ignoring the incorporeal walls around him,
Praying for anything to prove
The fruitlessness of what he already knows deep in his id.
A mutilated eye turns toward the howling wolves
Sitting somewhere beyond the reality of the tempest
In his head.

"My Lord, my Lord, why have you forsaken me?"

And it came to pass
That there were shepherds in the fields
Keeping watch over their flocks by night,
When Lo!

Something was supposed to happen but never did.

Hail Humaniy! Full of Grief,
No-one is with you.
Suffering are you among your delusions,
And suffering is the fruit of your womb:
Thought.
Pitiful people, mothers of pain,
Pray for yourselves now and at the hour of your birth,
Amen.

There may be a Santa Claus, Virginia, bit...
A bushel and a peck, a bushel and a peck to believe...

He sings triumphant, filling the rafters with
A voice from another reality
And walks out of the church slowly,
Hearing footfalls echo off stony walls.
He hurls a rock through an already broken window,
Walks though the yellow-dead grass of the Plain,
Out of Valhalla,
Warrior-poet without a sword or pen.

One final look at a grave,
Straw hat crushed carelessly nearby,
He crossed the final wooden bridge,
Insignificant under the gray clouds covering countless galaxies,
Wistfully strokes his chin,
Lights a match,
Drops it,
And vanishes into himself.