Now THERE'S a sight for sore eyes!
Owl is in the bar,
Together we were to change the world,
Our rhymes to take us far.
But, yes, life does intervene,
It tends to get so hilly,
But still, it's nice to find the time,
To come here and be silly.
I have seeen BC around,
Other OFs are here too,
But the one thing that remains constant,
Is the odd poem about poo.
Sunday, 31 May 2015
The Poet's Moment
The poet's moment
is the mountaineer's,
Who reaches the summit
and finds the air
haunted
by giddy mis-steps
Plummets, awake
into chilled
writing-chairs
at 3am, naked
Desperate to recall
the slip of icy stone
underfoot
and
that ghostly plunge
through space
earth
stone
blood
sinew
into legend
is the mountaineer's,
Who reaches the summit
and finds the air
haunted
by giddy mis-steps
Plummets, awake
into chilled
writing-chairs
at 3am, naked
Desperate to recall
the slip of icy stone
underfoot
and
that ghostly plunge
through space
earth
stone
blood
sinew
into legend
Saturday, 30 May 2015
"Down which hill did a small child roll?"
Found down river by a couple who stroll
was a small child, pale and still
"If we're to find the reason we must find that hill!"
the child examined, no identity found
growing frustration; "the child was bound!"
foul play it was, murder the charge
must find the culprit, still at large.
Found down river by a couple who stroll
was a small child, pale and still
"If we're to find the reason we must find that hill!"
the child examined, no identity found
growing frustration; "the child was bound!"
foul play it was, murder the charge
must find the culprit, still at large.
Overstepping the bounds of reality,
I wander around in search.
Looking for things
I will not find
The colors not found on the rainbow;
Such as a childs laugh,
Or the dreams
In my mind.
I must be aimless in my pursuit.
Aimlessly searching,
For the color
Of life.
Aimlessly aimless, to wander.
Out of reality,
In search,
Of what I can not find.
......................
Well, I thats mine...I actually wrote two, this was the one that sounded least like frying puke... :o)
*craving white chocolate*
I wander around in search.
Looking for things
I will not find
The colors not found on the rainbow;
Such as a childs laugh,
Or the dreams
In my mind.
I must be aimless in my pursuit.
Aimlessly searching,
For the color
Of life.
Aimlessly aimless, to wander.
Out of reality,
In search,
Of what I can not find.
......................
Well, I thats mine...I actually wrote two, this was the one that sounded least like frying puke... :o)
*craving white chocolate*
Friday, 29 May 2015
Aimlessly Aimless (a poem of a wandering nature)
Ew... well, I suppose what's been done is irrevocable now... you have yourself to blame. Keep in mind, I had just finished
listening to "The Windmills of Your Mind", so it may be a little... disjointed.
Aimlessly Aimless (a poem of a wandering nature)
Like the road that stretched before you,
and the road that stretched behind.
The liimist being dictates
of your will and of your mind.
Like a winding, spiral staircase,
flowing gently to the ground.
Like the circle of a question
to the answer you have found.
Bright futures seen before you,
dark futures seen as well.
Some days to see the face of heaven,
some days the face of hell.
It's the turning of the clock's hands,
it's the beads that slip the glass.
It's the moment that you'd die for,
but know will sooner pass.
It's the fragment of the mirror,
that will not show your face.
It's wandering down your hallways,
as if they were a maze.
It's the eye that stares above you,
it's the eyes that stare below.
It's when you have an answer,
to a question you don't know.
It's the spinning of a child's top,
the spinning of your mind.
It's the sudden realization
that your whole life you've been blind.
It's the wandering aimless nature,
of this poems groping verse.
It's the question that we all must ask,
the circles growing curse.
It's the purpose that's not known to you,
but not unknown as well.
It's the eyes that look at heaven,
and see the place of hell.
It's a circle in a circle,
a spiral in a square.
It's the misty winter morning
it's the breezy autumn air.
It's the tired, rambling wanderings
of a pen within my hands
it's the music found in life itself,
and music found on stands.
It's the feeling that you've seen yourself,
in someone that you've met.
It's the ending of this rambling verse,
that hasn't started yet.
Don't even bother asking what the hell that was, I don't know either.
The Turtle Moves
listening to "The Windmills of Your Mind", so it may be a little... disjointed.
Aimlessly Aimless (a poem of a wandering nature)
Like the road that stretched before you,
and the road that stretched behind.
The liimist being dictates
of your will and of your mind.
Like a winding, spiral staircase,
flowing gently to the ground.
Like the circle of a question
to the answer you have found.
Bright futures seen before you,
dark futures seen as well.
Some days to see the face of heaven,
some days the face of hell.
It's the turning of the clock's hands,
it's the beads that slip the glass.
It's the moment that you'd die for,
but know will sooner pass.
It's the fragment of the mirror,
that will not show your face.
It's wandering down your hallways,
as if they were a maze.
It's the eye that stares above you,
it's the eyes that stare below.
It's when you have an answer,
to a question you don't know.
It's the spinning of a child's top,
the spinning of your mind.
It's the sudden realization
that your whole life you've been blind.
It's the wandering aimless nature,
of this poems groping verse.
It's the question that we all must ask,
the circles growing curse.
It's the purpose that's not known to you,
but not unknown as well.
It's the eyes that look at heaven,
and see the place of hell.
It's a circle in a circle,
a spiral in a square.
It's the misty winter morning
it's the breezy autumn air.
It's the tired, rambling wanderings
of a pen within my hands
it's the music found in life itself,
and music found on stands.
It's the feeling that you've seen yourself,
in someone that you've met.
It's the ending of this rambling verse,
that hasn't started yet.
Don't even bother asking what the hell that was, I don't know either.
The Turtle Moves
Evolution
So I thought I'd drag through the bilges and found a nice little poem from my patented "Liddle Book 'o Poems" (TM) This is one of my early, early, early, early, EARLY ones, so don't be too harsh. How early do you say? Well, it's on the first page... =P
Evolution
by
Malacola
Their feathered wings, now plated steel,
Their taloned feet now rubber wheel.
Their slitted eye, now shield of glass,
Their fieldmouse now a leaded gas.
Their singing now a wailing shriek,
A nose where there was once a beak.
Their engine once a soul divine,
An engine fueled by gasoline.
There was a time we said they'd "soar",
But times do change, and now they "roar".
Thus it began, our revolution.
We like to call it "evolution".
By my troph! I am off! ::trophs off to bed::
The Turtle Moves (trophedly, no doubt...)
Evolution
by
Malacola
Their feathered wings, now plated steel,
Their taloned feet now rubber wheel.
Their slitted eye, now shield of glass,
Their fieldmouse now a leaded gas.
Their singing now a wailing shriek,
A nose where there was once a beak.
Their engine once a soul divine,
An engine fueled by gasoline.
There was a time we said they'd "soar",
But times do change, and now they "roar".
Thus it began, our revolution.
We like to call it "evolution".
By my troph! I am off! ::trophs off to bed::
The Turtle Moves (trophedly, no doubt...)
Thursday, 28 May 2015
Despair
Here I lie, wide awake...
Rememb'ring the words I spake.
Are they a real and true memory,
Or a grand delusion inside of me?
Running, stumbling with arms outstretched
Believing truths, too farfetched.
Knowing the decision is hit or miss.
Perched and teetering at the abyss.
One misstep is all it takes,
To be poisoned, tainted, filled with hate.
Lashing out at friends, making them enemies...
Tarnishing the soul with cruel misdeeds.
Down a dark and twisting path,
Living only to vent misplaced wrath.
An easy trip on the way down,
Only to find oneself alone, no one around.
This, a lonely and empty life makes,
Never learning, oft repeating the same mistakes.
Soon true friends are a faded, tarnished memory.
Whilst the pain and sorrow last eternity.
---Damien (ShadowDancer)
---May 28, 1998
---2:20 AM
Wednesday, 27 May 2015
Ummm...I just wrote this now. I am not sure if I should even share it yet. As writing it was like taking a knife and opening a vein. More personal and more painfull was writing this poem I think.
It is about something personal and with adult content...so please...do be warned of this...
I am shaking as I even type this part here. Umm...Maybe it is wrong of my to share it...But to be honest...It is the only way I can share it...The anonymity of the board and all...
Anyway...you were warned...
--------------------
We lay in each other’s arms at night
Holding one another near
You reach for me in that way of yours
I say no, please not this night
You smile in that way of yours
I say no, please not this night
You caress me in that way of yours
I say please, not tonight
You turn away in that way of yours
Annoyed in that way of yours
Irritable in that way of yours
I am use to this
I know my cue
As if on call I feel guilt
I reach for you to let you know
I love you, but please,
Just not this night
You turn to me
Plead me with words
Not hearing my own
I hate your words
You caress me softly
Seeking to bring forth my desire
I am grateful for the dark
It shrouds my grimace at your touch
I hate your touch
You caress my body
My neck
My stomach
I flinch at your touch
To hide this
I try to moan in pleasure
Sounding like a gag to my ears
You hear what you want
You try to kiss my lips with love
I turn away
Not there, use me
But not there
Your kisses mock me too much
Pretending of love
If you loved me
You would see
Even in the dark
My body still says no
You kiss me more
You move down
Please not there
I hate your kisses
You take me now
In the moonlight I see your body
I hate your body
I hate my body
You use me now
Done
You turn to me
And kiss me with love
Murmur sweet words
I hate your words
I turn away
And cry
I am a shell
A used up shell
---------------------
umm...again...I needed to share this poem with someone.
Thank-you
or sorry
depending on how you feel after reading it. :)
It is about something personal and with adult content...so please...do be warned of this...
I am shaking as I even type this part here. Umm...Maybe it is wrong of my to share it...But to be honest...It is the only way I can share it...The anonymity of the board and all...
Anyway...you were warned...
--------------------
We lay in each other’s arms at night
Holding one another near
You reach for me in that way of yours
I say no, please not this night
You smile in that way of yours
I say no, please not this night
You caress me in that way of yours
I say please, not tonight
You turn away in that way of yours
Annoyed in that way of yours
Irritable in that way of yours
I am use to this
I know my cue
As if on call I feel guilt
I reach for you to let you know
I love you, but please,
Just not this night
You turn to me
Plead me with words
Not hearing my own
I hate your words
You caress me softly
Seeking to bring forth my desire
I am grateful for the dark
It shrouds my grimace at your touch
I hate your touch
You caress my body
My neck
My stomach
I flinch at your touch
To hide this
I try to moan in pleasure
Sounding like a gag to my ears
You hear what you want
You try to kiss my lips with love
I turn away
Not there, use me
But not there
Your kisses mock me too much
Pretending of love
If you loved me
You would see
Even in the dark
My body still says no
You kiss me more
You move down
Please not there
I hate your kisses
You take me now
In the moonlight I see your body
I hate your body
I hate my body
You use me now
Done
You turn to me
And kiss me with love
Murmur sweet words
I hate your words
I turn away
And cry
I am a shell
A used up shell
---------------------
umm...again...I needed to share this poem with someone.
Thank-you
or sorry
depending on how you feel after reading it. :)
The horrible things I see on TV,
on the radio,the awful things I hear
always seems to beat me down,
and it grows worse each passing year.
They complain about my lack of soul,
they say I don't talk enough.
But I've just stopped caring lately,
this world is getting tough.
Inside me anger burns;
but I still remain silent.
Inside me anger burns;
but I will not grow violent.
The horrible things I see on TV,
on the radio,the awful things I hear
I wish that I could kill the devil
and drown him with our tears.
-Inspired by Creed
on the radio,the awful things I hear
always seems to beat me down,
and it grows worse each passing year.
They complain about my lack of soul,
they say I don't talk enough.
But I've just stopped caring lately,
this world is getting tough.
Inside me anger burns;
but I still remain silent.
Inside me anger burns;
but I will not grow violent.
The horrible things I see on TV,
on the radio,the awful things I hear
I wish that I could kill the devil
and drown him with our tears.
-Inspired by Creed
Tuesday, 26 May 2015
Down which hill did a small child roll,
(rolling, rolling, rolling he did stumble and fall)
Down which hill did a small child roll,
(roll little child, roll, roll, roll)
Down which hill did a small child roll, (Lead)
(slamming into bushes like a wild animal.) (Chorus - burly men)
Down the hill by the merry ol' creek
(First there was silence, then a lil' 'SQUEK')
The child had stopped, but what did it see
(it had landed in the middle of a badger family)
Down which hill did a small child roll,
(rolling, rolling, rolling he did stumble and fall)
Down which hill did a small child roll,
(roll little child, roll, roll, roll)
Down which hill did a small child roll,
(fastest little kid since the days of old)
down the hill, eating an ORANGE.
(erhm...)
Guess the songs over then?
(Sigh.. back to work)
(rolling, rolling, rolling he did stumble and fall)
Down which hill did a small child roll,
(roll little child, roll, roll, roll)
Down which hill did a small child roll, (Lead)
(slamming into bushes like a wild animal.) (Chorus - burly men)
Down the hill by the merry ol' creek
(First there was silence, then a lil' 'SQUEK')
The child had stopped, but what did it see
(it had landed in the middle of a badger family)
Down which hill did a small child roll,
(rolling, rolling, rolling he did stumble and fall)
Down which hill did a small child roll,
(roll little child, roll, roll, roll)
Down which hill did a small child roll,
(fastest little kid since the days of old)
down the hill, eating an ORANGE.
(erhm...)
Guess the songs over then?
(Sigh.. back to work)
Gliding Leaf
I recently did this for school and I thought it was pretty good. Tell me what y'all think!
Gliding Leaf
I plucked a leaf from the low branch of a tree
And held it aloft in my hand.
I stared at it for just a few moments
Before letting it go to the wind.
As I watched it soar I wondered how it felt,
That is supposing it could actually think.
It must be sad to be separated from the rest of its kin
And have no way to come back to its home.
But then I thought it might perhaps be glad
To be free from that restraining tree.
It was able to see what it would of the world and
Feel the breeze guide it through the air.
And though it may perish before the rest,
All brown and withered on the ground.
This will know what the others are blind to,
And the only one that ever flew.
Gliding Leaf
I plucked a leaf from the low branch of a tree
And held it aloft in my hand.
I stared at it for just a few moments
Before letting it go to the wind.
As I watched it soar I wondered how it felt,
That is supposing it could actually think.
It must be sad to be separated from the rest of its kin
And have no way to come back to its home.
But then I thought it might perhaps be glad
To be free from that restraining tree.
It was able to see what it would of the world and
Feel the breeze guide it through the air.
And though it may perish before the rest,
All brown and withered on the ground.
This will know what the others are blind to,
And the only one that ever flew.
Monday, 25 May 2015
I am Dreaming
Standing on a path,
A tree.
Gnarled roots, like bars
Blocking my way.
Black vines reach out,
Like snakes
Slithering around me,
They surround me.
I close my eyes in despair.
I can feel the blackness,
A murky fog
Thick in the air,
Makes it hard to breathe.
I am dreaming.
I am awake.
I do nothing to escape.
K.A.Stryer © May 25, 2001
A tree.
Gnarled roots, like bars
Blocking my way.
Black vines reach out,
Like snakes
Slithering around me,
They surround me.
I close my eyes in despair.
I can feel the blackness,
A murky fog
Thick in the air,
Makes it hard to breathe.
I am dreaming.
I am awake.
I do nothing to escape.
K.A.Stryer © May 25, 2001
Off the cuff:
As I hide in the shadows
I stare into the light
So bright it almost burns my eyes
I'm wishing for the night.
Cause in the darkness I feel safe
No one can hurt me here
If I can't be seen I don't exist
In the shadows there's no fear
But as I sit in darkness
I think and contemplate
Should I not go into the light
Why should I hesitate?
For in the light it's where I might
find what I've been searching for
a love, a friendship, a kind word
Someone that I adore.
I contemplate and realize
that I am affraid
affraid of getting hurt once more
I fear it is too late...
For I've been hurt too many times
I can't deal with the pain
So I'd rather stay in darkness
Then go into the light again.
Hmmh... that turned out differently then I expected. Oh well, it's there. Enjoy. :-)
As I hide in the shadows
I stare into the light
So bright it almost burns my eyes
I'm wishing for the night.
Cause in the darkness I feel safe
No one can hurt me here
If I can't be seen I don't exist
In the shadows there's no fear
But as I sit in darkness
I think and contemplate
Should I not go into the light
Why should I hesitate?
For in the light it's where I might
find what I've been searching for
a love, a friendship, a kind word
Someone that I adore.
I contemplate and realize
that I am affraid
affraid of getting hurt once more
I fear it is too late...
For I've been hurt too many times
I can't deal with the pain
So I'd rather stay in darkness
Then go into the light again.
Hmmh... that turned out differently then I expected. Oh well, it's there. Enjoy. :-)
Sunday, 24 May 2015
"Down which hill did a small child roll?" Enquired the Zen master of the seeking soul.
"Is this a koan, oh wisest of wise?"
Asked the young seeker with awe in his eyes.
"It's whatever you think," said the Master, blank faced
"But I'd suggest you consider your answer post haste."
The Seeker drew back with alarm on his face:
"Is my soul really that close to disgrace?"
"Not your soul, my son, though it isn't snow white,
But something has changed since you entered my sight."
The Seeker felt his eyes grow most wide:
"Then what must I do to turn back that tide?"
"Think back to when you arrived at my camp -
Not two, but three souls were lit by my lamp.
And while you enquire of the vagaries of tao,
Your daughter has rolled to the base camp by now."
"Is this a koan, oh wisest of wise?"
Asked the young seeker with awe in his eyes.
"It's whatever you think," said the Master, blank faced
"But I'd suggest you consider your answer post haste."
The Seeker drew back with alarm on his face:
"Is my soul really that close to disgrace?"
"Not your soul, my son, though it isn't snow white,
But something has changed since you entered my sight."
The Seeker felt his eyes grow most wide:
"Then what must I do to turn back that tide?"
"Think back to when you arrived at my camp -
Not two, but three souls were lit by my lamp.
And while you enquire of the vagaries of tao,
Your daughter has rolled to the base camp by now."
Lamenting under candles glow
Ale dries up while down falls snow.
Darkness creeps, covering all
Wondering when you began to fall
Mere days ago all was well
Now you know there's no fire in hell
Just eternal cold.
Soul is brittle, frozen, shattered.
Will has submitted, beaten, battered.
Feel your mind slipping, fading away
Dim hopes that this will be the last day
An end forthcoming, end to pain, end to all
Still, you know you're just starting to fall
All the while getting colder...
Abandoned by mate, disowned by blood, nobody left to corrupt.
No release, you wait to erupt.
First eager to live, now eager to die...
Living a life that was always a lie
Tipping the barmaid, you take your leave
From your shattered mind a plan concieved
You walk out, into the bitter cold...
Opening the door, seeing nothing but black
Feeling worse now that you're back
Make your way to the drawer, rummage around
Search until your salvation is found
Moments later, your hand feels the knife
Yearning to put an end to your strife
The blood trickles down your arms..... and all you feel is cold.
Ale dries up while down falls snow.
Darkness creeps, covering all
Wondering when you began to fall
Mere days ago all was well
Now you know there's no fire in hell
Just eternal cold.
Soul is brittle, frozen, shattered.
Will has submitted, beaten, battered.
Feel your mind slipping, fading away
Dim hopes that this will be the last day
An end forthcoming, end to pain, end to all
Still, you know you're just starting to fall
All the while getting colder...
Abandoned by mate, disowned by blood, nobody left to corrupt.
No release, you wait to erupt.
First eager to live, now eager to die...
Living a life that was always a lie
Tipping the barmaid, you take your leave
From your shattered mind a plan concieved
You walk out, into the bitter cold...
Opening the door, seeing nothing but black
Feeling worse now that you're back
Make your way to the drawer, rummage around
Search until your salvation is found
Moments later, your hand feels the knife
Yearning to put an end to your strife
The blood trickles down your arms..... and all you feel is cold.
Saturday, 23 May 2015
What Are Your Demons
What are your demons?
Is it the darkness that haunts you?
Or the light that brings the discovery of secrets?
Do you fear the reapor, with his icey eyes?
Or the devil with his soul of fire?
Or your Preacher with his book of steel and heart of stone?
Or the law with it's shields of gold and clothes of blue?
But always know the greatest demon of all is your heart.
Always chained to love, always leading you to destuction.
Is it the darkness that haunts you?
Or the light that brings the discovery of secrets?
Do you fear the reapor, with his icey eyes?
Or the devil with his soul of fire?
Or your Preacher with his book of steel and heart of stone?
Or the law with it's shields of gold and clothes of blue?
But always know the greatest demon of all is your heart.
Always chained to love, always leading you to destuction.
Pale streaks of light taunt me
dancing above,like the glow of a warm candle.
having the sun above shine and not hidden in the dark,
is where i want to be.
Twisting my mind, corrupting, like a politician.
i struggle for sanity.
I cannot even tell what is sane and what is not.
I try not to think that, and focus on how to get to the sun.
i seek only admission.
Hopeful i wont become totally mad.
not to lose a reason ive worked so hard for,
and i must be quick for demons are hungry and will not wait.
In the dark guided by a simple crack in the earth
i dig for independence.
Fighting for a cause that i always should of have.
Not alone in the dark anymore i climb go to the surface.
only to be misguided by a false candle light.
Discouraged and still in the dark,
but not yet beaten i continue to search.
Maybe one day, i will find happiness,
happiness that cannot be purchased......
Hope you people like this one......
dancing above,like the glow of a warm candle.
having the sun above shine and not hidden in the dark,
is where i want to be.
Twisting my mind, corrupting, like a politician.
i struggle for sanity.
I cannot even tell what is sane and what is not.
I try not to think that, and focus on how to get to the sun.
i seek only admission.
Hopeful i wont become totally mad.
not to lose a reason ive worked so hard for,
and i must be quick for demons are hungry and will not wait.
In the dark guided by a simple crack in the earth
i dig for independence.
Fighting for a cause that i always should of have.
Not alone in the dark anymore i climb go to the surface.
only to be misguided by a false candle light.
Discouraged and still in the dark,
but not yet beaten i continue to search.
Maybe one day, i will find happiness,
happiness that cannot be purchased......
Hope you people like this one......
Friday, 22 May 2015
I mumble to myself, wishing it was till next week.
"The mail isn't working, what's wrong with you now?"
I pray to the gods, let the end come to you now.
"The password doesn't work, have you gone down again?"
I wonder how you managed to forget your caps lock again.
"Do you like your job, you dont sound pleased to be helping me!"
I think about murder, no jury would convict me.
"I dont think this will help, are you sure you know what your doing?"
I wonder to myself, just what where you thinking.
"It can't read the mail, what have you screwed up now?"
I look up your address, shotgun in tow.
You foolish little people, keep calling the tech line.
But little do you know your death warrents have just been signed.
For I am coming to your house and solving your problems, one last time.
I look at the World
Wonder 'what the hell?'
As children get shot
with daddy's handgun
which he keeps for 'safety'
in his underwear drawer
while he keeps the true 'safety' off.
Mommy comes home
'kids' she shouts
though dogged after a long
long day at the office
she walks upstairs
the strong stench of death hangs heavy as she enters the room
what is this
we never had a red carpet.
Baby is gone
coroner says
to a mother with tears in her eyes
shot once in the face
pure mutilation
as point-blank range tends to do.
At the funeral
no wake is held
no coffin kept open
the mortician could not do it
the mortician could not bear to see it
as a little child is lain to rest in the folds of the earth.
"The mail isn't working, what's wrong with you now?"
I pray to the gods, let the end come to you now.
"The password doesn't work, have you gone down again?"
I wonder how you managed to forget your caps lock again.
"Do you like your job, you dont sound pleased to be helping me!"
I think about murder, no jury would convict me.
"I dont think this will help, are you sure you know what your doing?"
I wonder to myself, just what where you thinking.
"It can't read the mail, what have you screwed up now?"
I look up your address, shotgun in tow.
You foolish little people, keep calling the tech line.
But little do you know your death warrents have just been signed.
For I am coming to your house and solving your problems, one last time.
I look at the World
Wonder 'what the hell?'
As children get shot
with daddy's handgun
which he keeps for 'safety'
in his underwear drawer
while he keeps the true 'safety' off.
Mommy comes home
'kids' she shouts
though dogged after a long
long day at the office
she walks upstairs
the strong stench of death hangs heavy as she enters the room
what is this
we never had a red carpet.
Baby is gone
coroner says
to a mother with tears in her eyes
shot once in the face
pure mutilation
as point-blank range tends to do.
At the funeral
no wake is held
no coffin kept open
the mortician could not do it
the mortician could not bear to see it
as a little child is lain to rest in the folds of the earth.
"melancholy"
Poem. Hm hm hm. And a HI to everyone as well."
Because i am busy and never here and yes.
Here's the poem then eh.
*HUGS*
"melancholy"
ugly yellow green bile
swish of a whip through the air
eyes half open three quarters closed
you and you and you
and somewhere here, i'm told
me.
old grey bleeding eyes
crack of two hundred bones in unison
mind opening and closing in unwanted spasms
you and you and you
and i remember everything i've seen, but
me.
deep blue screaming veins
garbled warble of talking heads
lungs grabbing listlessly for air to feed
you and you and you
and never, never bringing life to
me.
i long for a break to my silence, and
from lips too weak to open,
a perfectly choreographed sentence
dies, drown out again by melancholy,
ugly yellow green bilious waves.
nothing now.
nothing but
you and you and you
and somewhere here, guess there must be
me.
Because i am busy and never here and yes.
Here's the poem then eh.
*HUGS*
"melancholy"
ugly yellow green bile
swish of a whip through the air
eyes half open three quarters closed
you and you and you
and somewhere here, i'm told
me.
old grey bleeding eyes
crack of two hundred bones in unison
mind opening and closing in unwanted spasms
you and you and you
and i remember everything i've seen, but
me.
deep blue screaming veins
garbled warble of talking heads
lungs grabbing listlessly for air to feed
you and you and you
and never, never bringing life to
me.
i long for a break to my silence, and
from lips too weak to open,
a perfectly choreographed sentence
dies, drown out again by melancholy,
ugly yellow green bilious waves.
nothing now.
nothing but
you and you and you
and somewhere here, guess there must be
me.
Thursday, 21 May 2015
A poem and a toast to the safe return of Doombot
A poem and a toast to the safe return of Doombot
of whom the board would be worse off without.
It was a night dark and dreary
the rain was falling, dawn was nearing
the parties were ending, the unwashed winding down
for night was almost over, it was time to go home
But for one senior not all was well
the lovely Doombot had been stolen
by none other then the evil purple one
El Diablo Dinosauro Malo
She had been beaten and blackened then demands were sent
they arrived at the unwashed door and caused quite a fit
the swat team was called, while others confered
just what would happen to the senior in the monsters grip
But Doombot escaped, details are still sketchy
did she do it herself, or have help from the unwashed hirearchy?
All that matters to us is she is now back in proper hands
and now that she is safe, the revenge can commence
From all over the world, favorite weapons were grabed
When the purple one was tracked down, we were oh so very glad
for we had all this ammo that was just going to waste
and before to long, all we had left was purple paste.
of whom the board would be worse off without.
It was a night dark and dreary
the rain was falling, dawn was nearing
the parties were ending, the unwashed winding down
for night was almost over, it was time to go home
But for one senior not all was well
the lovely Doombot had been stolen
by none other then the evil purple one
El Diablo Dinosauro Malo
She had been beaten and blackened then demands were sent
they arrived at the unwashed door and caused quite a fit
the swat team was called, while others confered
just what would happen to the senior in the monsters grip
But Doombot escaped, details are still sketchy
did she do it herself, or have help from the unwashed hirearchy?
All that matters to us is she is now back in proper hands
and now that she is safe, the revenge can commence
From all over the world, favorite weapons were grabed
When the purple one was tracked down, we were oh so very glad
for we had all this ammo that was just going to waste
and before to long, all we had left was purple paste.
Wednesday, 20 May 2015
"Mutable"
"Mutable"
life in a blue maze
(a thousand million shades of grey)
up? down? sideways? world
(burnt out minute? eternity girl?)
everything gone all dream frayed
(lose for love, kill to save)
pent up mysteries never to unfurl
(time, where did you take 5 yr curls?)
hot new thing? old hating?
three words:
universal identity crisis
life in a blue maze
(a thousand million shades of grey)
up? down? sideways? world
(burnt out minute? eternity girl?)
everything gone all dream frayed
(lose for love, kill to save)
pent up mysteries never to unfurl
(time, where did you take 5 yr curls?)
hot new thing? old hating?
three words:
universal identity crisis
Tuesday, 19 May 2015
The Cricket Match
The men grab up their flat-sided bats
its almost time to play
I am going to go see a cricket match today.
I see the men all take the field and the batter go up to the plate
Just hoping to hit the ball and not get a wicket as of late.
The pitcher throws the ball
he hits it with such force
that the sheer power of the cricket ball is enough to kill a horse.
He runs the bases back and forth
seeming without end
until the pitcher gets the ball and he has to hit again.
The man has got himself 20 runs and thats not bad you see
Thus the life of a cricket player will never be for me.
The first day ends and the score is now 230-173
A cricket player's life is not for me.
Just get up the next day and prepare to take the field
The other team's up to bat, the hitter just won't yield.
The batter just hits the ball running from base to base
Until the hope to get a wicket seems very much out of place.
The hitter starts to act very crass,
"you can't stop me, you stupid stupid ass!"
But the pitcher hurls one final ball
It creeps up to the plate
But the batter takes his swing one second too late.
The ball hits the wicket, The post is knocked off
The inning is now over, some room to breathe, or cough.
This continues for another day or some
You see how cricket players like to have fun.
And next time the score is 831-3,
you'll see that cricket playing will never be for me.
its almost time to play
I am going to go see a cricket match today.
I see the men all take the field and the batter go up to the plate
Just hoping to hit the ball and not get a wicket as of late.
The pitcher throws the ball
he hits it with such force
that the sheer power of the cricket ball is enough to kill a horse.
He runs the bases back and forth
seeming without end
until the pitcher gets the ball and he has to hit again.
The man has got himself 20 runs and thats not bad you see
Thus the life of a cricket player will never be for me.
The first day ends and the score is now 230-173
A cricket player's life is not for me.
Just get up the next day and prepare to take the field
The other team's up to bat, the hitter just won't yield.
The batter just hits the ball running from base to base
Until the hope to get a wicket seems very much out of place.
The hitter starts to act very crass,
"you can't stop me, you stupid stupid ass!"
But the pitcher hurls one final ball
It creeps up to the plate
But the batter takes his swing one second too late.
The ball hits the wicket, The post is knocked off
The inning is now over, some room to breathe, or cough.
This continues for another day or some
You see how cricket players like to have fun.
And next time the score is 831-3,
you'll see that cricket playing will never be for me.
Monday, 18 May 2015
A tribute to a faithfull friend
the last week I haven't been feeling so well
like my own personal hell
giving you up was the worst thing I've ever done
but now in the end I know that I won
at least now you work as you should
they have done more for you then I ever could
leaving you was my lifes greatest risk
but now I got you back, my beloved minidisk
finally got it back.. I can't belive I managed to live
listening to the old diskman for a week.
like my own personal hell
giving you up was the worst thing I've ever done
but now in the end I know that I won
at least now you work as you should
they have done more for you then I ever could
leaving you was my lifes greatest risk
but now I got you back, my beloved minidisk
finally got it back.. I can't belive I managed to live
listening to the old diskman for a week.
"Skim Milk"
New bad poetry. Thank the magnetic poetry for this one, more or less.
"Skim Milk"
Mother TV
milk this vision.
from my madness
take your blood.
ask not what i need
just keep smearing my skin.
Mother TV,
clear as big screen,
your nightmare owns me.
"Skim Milk"
Mother TV
milk this vision.
from my madness
take your blood.
ask not what i need
just keep smearing my skin.
Mother TV,
clear as big screen,
your nightmare owns me.
Sunday, 17 May 2015
Down which hill did a small child roll?
If I ask you will you know?
His laughter carried through the air,
And the dew on the grass clung to his hair.
Playing there all the day long,
Rolling in beat with a rhyme and a song.
In the field with all of his friends,
Playing and rolling until the day ends.
Down which hill did a small child roll?
If I ask you will you know?
If I ask you will you know?
His laughter carried through the air,
And the dew on the grass clung to his hair.
Playing there all the day long,
Rolling in beat with a rhyme and a song.
In the field with all of his friends,
Playing and rolling until the day ends.
Down which hill did a small child roll?
If I ask you will you know?
Saturday, 16 May 2015
Deep in a dungeon of hate and sorrow.
I am in the shadows.
Cowering in a corner Delirious
Feeling more emotions than you can think.....
this makes me furious.....
Above all the hate and spite, i see a light.
knowing the only way to breathe fresh air,
i must wake up and everything that is right will be there.
For now i will struggle.
Alone in the dark and boggled.
Atmoic Potato
In the deep of peoples souls
there is a rage that they struggle to hold
in light they find the purpose,
to struggle on and
not fall.
Yet some fall and in the shadows they will hide,
they will brood on emotions more than one can feel.
Thus these people are a tragedy,
Hopefully this wont happen to me.
I am in the shadows.
Cowering in a corner Delirious
Feeling more emotions than you can think.....
this makes me furious.....
Above all the hate and spite, i see a light.
knowing the only way to breathe fresh air,
i must wake up and everything that is right will be there.
For now i will struggle.
Alone in the dark and boggled.
Atmoic Potato
In the deep of peoples souls
there is a rage that they struggle to hold
in light they find the purpose,
to struggle on and
not fall.
Yet some fall and in the shadows they will hide,
they will brood on emotions more than one can feel.
Thus these people are a tragedy,
Hopefully this wont happen to me.
"mirror song"
I don't particularly like either of them, but i'm not writing much, and there's a chance i'll reread them in a few days and think hey, these are okay. =) *HUGS* Thanks for reading.
"mirror song"
changeling
with your dark hair
and your pale limbs
and your
laugh
laugh
laugh
(there's no tomorrow)
you can't be the girl
i saw in the pictures
with her light curls
and her
smile
smile
smile
(if it kills you)
changeling
stealing away that baby
lost that innocence, did you
and your
cleanliness
cleanliness
cleanliness
(next to godliness)
now you're nothing
now i'm nothing
now you're,
now you're
now you're me.
changeling.
"leave"
no longer do i long for
answers to the riddle.
no longer do i ask for
the key to free the slaves.
no longer do i wish
for a pill to cure the cause.
i don't care any more
whether you were lover or killer.
i don't care whether you
understood or misunderstood or
knew the way you twisted me.
i don't care any more
about the depth of the sickness
and my love for you then.
all i want is for the ghosts
to return to their graves.
all i want is sleep.
"mirror song"
changeling
with your dark hair
and your pale limbs
and your
laugh
laugh
laugh
(there's no tomorrow)
you can't be the girl
i saw in the pictures
with her light curls
and her
smile
smile
smile
(if it kills you)
changeling
stealing away that baby
lost that innocence, did you
and your
cleanliness
cleanliness
cleanliness
(next to godliness)
now you're nothing
now i'm nothing
now you're,
now you're
now you're me.
changeling.
"leave"
no longer do i long for
answers to the riddle.
no longer do i ask for
the key to free the slaves.
no longer do i wish
for a pill to cure the cause.
i don't care any more
whether you were lover or killer.
i don't care whether you
understood or misunderstood or
knew the way you twisted me.
i don't care any more
about the depth of the sickness
and my love for you then.
all i want is for the ghosts
to return to their graves.
all i want is sleep.
Friday, 15 May 2015
I read the cookie with different eyes,
Ones that can hardly see,
I thought he meant "Poetry Bastard",
When he put "PB".
I'm so used to seeing it in that context,
PBs wwere my life,
Now I am regularly demanded upon,
By my daughter and my wife.
So, a PBY2K,
Does this imply compliance?
Every PB that I have met,
Is characterised by defiance.
Or does it mean "PB2000",
I'm really not quite sure,
Perhaps there's a new clan being formed,
Compared to the original it will be poor.
My point in this ramble is quite simple,
Listen to my directive,
What we see depends upon what we are,
Reality is a construct of perspective.
Ones that can hardly see,
I thought he meant "Poetry Bastard",
When he put "PB".
I'm so used to seeing it in that context,
PBs wwere my life,
Now I am regularly demanded upon,
By my daughter and my wife.
So, a PBY2K,
Does this imply compliance?
Every PB that I have met,
Is characterised by defiance.
Or does it mean "PB2000",
I'm really not quite sure,
Perhaps there's a new clan being formed,
Compared to the original it will be poor.
My point in this ramble is quite simple,
Listen to my directive,
What we see depends upon what we are,
Reality is a construct of perspective.
Deep in a dungeon of hate and sorrow.
I am in the shadows.
Cowering in a corner Delirious
Feeling more emotions than you can think.....
this makes me furious.....
Above all the hate and spite, i see a light.
knowing the only way to breathe fresh air,
i must wake up and everything that is right will be there.
For now i will struggle.
Alone in the dark and boggled.
Atmoic Potato
In the deep of peoples souls
there is a rage that they struggle to hold
in light they find the purpose,
to struggle on and
not fall.
Yet some fall and in the shadows they will hide,
they will brood on emotions more than one can feel.
Thus these people are a tragedy,
Hopefully this wont happen to me.
I am in the shadows.
Cowering in a corner Delirious
Feeling more emotions than you can think.....
this makes me furious.....
Above all the hate and spite, i see a light.
knowing the only way to breathe fresh air,
i must wake up and everything that is right will be there.
For now i will struggle.
Alone in the dark and boggled.
Atmoic Potato
In the deep of peoples souls
there is a rage that they struggle to hold
in light they find the purpose,
to struggle on and
not fall.
Yet some fall and in the shadows they will hide,
they will brood on emotions more than one can feel.
Thus these people are a tragedy,
Hopefully this wont happen to me.
Thursday, 14 May 2015
I step in the car
the engine starts
life begins now
on the highway of life
and so I drive.
The road goes on
I start off slow
slowly moving faster
on this small one lane road
and I drive on.
The road grows wider
some traffic is there
passing me by
they are parts of my life
and I drive on.
The road is larger
moving faster
the seanery is smearing
blending together
and I drive on.
Life is fast
I cant see whats around me
it goes by so quickly
I dont understand
and I step on the brakes.
Tires squealing
smoke is rising
car is skiding
sliding to a stop
and life stands still.
I am stoped on the road
the road is the path
the path is my life
I have stoped my life
and I look around.
I see the birds
I see the trees
I see the flowers
I see the curb
and I get out.
I smell the air
it is fresh and sweet
I am not in the car
I am outside
and I take a break from life.
A car passes by
in it is a friend
it reminds me of life
this is just a stop
and I go back to my car.
I step in the car
the engine starts
my life is now moving
on this road that is life
and so I drive.
the engine starts
life begins now
on the highway of life
and so I drive.
The road goes on
I start off slow
slowly moving faster
on this small one lane road
and I drive on.
The road grows wider
some traffic is there
passing me by
they are parts of my life
and I drive on.
The road is larger
moving faster
the seanery is smearing
blending together
and I drive on.
Life is fast
I cant see whats around me
it goes by so quickly
I dont understand
and I step on the brakes.
Tires squealing
smoke is rising
car is skiding
sliding to a stop
and life stands still.
I am stoped on the road
the road is the path
the path is my life
I have stoped my life
and I look around.
I see the birds
I see the trees
I see the flowers
I see the curb
and I get out.
I smell the air
it is fresh and sweet
I am not in the car
I am outside
and I take a break from life.
A car passes by
in it is a friend
it reminds me of life
this is just a stop
and I go back to my car.
I step in the car
the engine starts
my life is now moving
on this road that is life
and so I drive.
"Back Drawer (The Time Was Right II)"
For Fishstick Blob's Looking Back project. Thought that I should like to post it here as well. *HUGS* Thanks to Beeeeeee for the pink asbestos skies. It all started there.
"Back Drawer (The Time Was Right II)"
crumpled yellow parchment paper still in your third drawer underneath the lavendar and underwear to this day even now reads the same as it always did:
"I've packed my bags, it's time to go
The tides are pulling me far and away
Maybe i'll see Mars, or the moon, i don't know
But i've got to go, got to, got to escape
From this prison of sunset and its pink asbestos skies
Oh baby, maybe I'm just a satellite
Orbiting around whatever attraction grows heavy and handy
But I can't get through one more night
Sitting around grinding up rainbow pills,
Trying to find that one particle of trust joy love faith
Because the wretch in your fortune cookie paste mirror
She's taken to wearing my face.
And i've got to go, maybe I'll go Mars
Just somewhere where the sun doesn't shine so fuckin' hard
Maybe find a reason why this whole thing had to start.
But i gotta get out of here,
Before i suffocate, burning in the light
And if it's all i have to do to get some air,
I'll go beyond these pink asbestos skies."
tears and phonecalls and three plane tickets back and forth and still, your saturn girl never returned. when asked for comment, she still says only this: the time was just right.
"Back Drawer (The Time Was Right II)"
crumpled yellow parchment paper still in your third drawer underneath the lavendar and underwear to this day even now reads the same as it always did:
"I've packed my bags, it's time to go
The tides are pulling me far and away
Maybe i'll see Mars, or the moon, i don't know
But i've got to go, got to, got to escape
From this prison of sunset and its pink asbestos skies
Oh baby, maybe I'm just a satellite
Orbiting around whatever attraction grows heavy and handy
But I can't get through one more night
Sitting around grinding up rainbow pills,
Trying to find that one particle of trust joy love faith
Because the wretch in your fortune cookie paste mirror
She's taken to wearing my face.
And i've got to go, maybe I'll go Mars
Just somewhere where the sun doesn't shine so fuckin' hard
Maybe find a reason why this whole thing had to start.
But i gotta get out of here,
Before i suffocate, burning in the light
And if it's all i have to do to get some air,
I'll go beyond these pink asbestos skies."
tears and phonecalls and three plane tickets back and forth and still, your saturn girl never returned. when asked for comment, she still says only this: the time was just right.
Wednesday, 13 May 2015
We have only just seen your latest toon,
The shock of my simple life,
For the toon was one based upon,
My dear and lovely wife!
I thank you from my deepest recesses,
For your most excellent work,
It is again a thing of beauty,
But then again, it's done by Lerk!
I know you tend to blow this off,
But you are a talented one,
Your work gives us all such joy,
You make our lives more fun.
So, we thank you for your time,
Anf for your humour too,
We thank you for your honour,
But mostly for being you.
Cheers from the Land of Oz
The shock of my simple life,
For the toon was one based upon,
My dear and lovely wife!
I thank you from my deepest recesses,
For your most excellent work,
It is again a thing of beauty,
But then again, it's done by Lerk!
I know you tend to blow this off,
But you are a talented one,
Your work gives us all such joy,
You make our lives more fun.
So, we thank you for your time,
Anf for your humour too,
We thank you for your honour,
But mostly for being you.
Cheers from the Land of Oz
Night.
The sounds and sights,if any, feared.
why?
We fear what we dont understand.
We fear out of Idiocy, Ignorance. Call it what you want.
For we are smarter then that. We know. You dont.
We have the third eye. you arent even using two.
We hide in the night, in the shadows. Our perspective is more clear.
It is time to set the record straight........
why?
We fear what we dont understand.
We fear out of Idiocy, Ignorance. Call it what you want.
For we are smarter then that. We know. You dont.
We have the third eye. you arent even using two.
We hide in the night, in the shadows. Our perspective is more clear.
It is time to set the record straight........
Tuesday, 12 May 2015
Deep and dark i cannot hide,
in full light and sober yet i cannot see,
up and around the twisting pathways i walk, to an unknown cause,
arguments and hate all over the place, all petty,
and it means nothing to me.
I sleep yet i cannot dream for i am in a dream,
forged by the hatred of others,
a puppet in a sadistic play which i am humiliated, scorned
All this is I and nothing more..........
my own lil creation
in full light and sober yet i cannot see,
up and around the twisting pathways i walk, to an unknown cause,
arguments and hate all over the place, all petty,
and it means nothing to me.
I sleep yet i cannot dream for i am in a dream,
forged by the hatred of others,
a puppet in a sadistic play which i am humiliated, scorned
All this is I and nothing more..........
my own lil creation
"Can't See It"
Wrote this one awhile back (like a week or two). Procrastinating about posting it, etc, but feedback's been pleasant lately, so. Just remember, it could get worse than this, i COULD be posting Old Bad Radio, but I'm not, I'm sparing you all. ;) *HUGS*
"Can't See It"
i want to touch it but i can't see it,
i can't see it but i can feel it,
i can feel it and it hurts me,
but i can't see it, and i can't kill it
underneath the surface, something's hiding
some things are always hidden
i'll cut the skin away but i can never get within it
nothing is real but this feeling, and i can't see it
there's no truth but this lie, and i don't believe it
no meaning but this lacking longing, and i can't kill it
inside the void, i'm numb with feeling it
what did you bury in me, cruel one?
i know you planted this monster seed, clever one
what's this demon that longs to be free, sharp one?
why did you take the peace from me, cruel one?
something lies beneath the reality of this dream,
i t ' s a m i s s i n g p i e c e o f m e, cruel one!
and i can't break it free, you see, you see,
i can't see
can't make out the darkness, can't tell which part is missing
don't know the food to satiate the hunger, don't know the elixir to kill the disease
can't see the wound but i can feel it oozing,
i can feel it and it hurts me,
but i can't see it, and i can't kill it
underneath the surface, something's hiding
and some truths aren't meant to be known
as the lights get brighter, i get dimmer
i can't see it,
but it i see alone
"Can't See It"
i want to touch it but i can't see it,
i can't see it but i can feel it,
i can feel it and it hurts me,
but i can't see it, and i can't kill it
underneath the surface, something's hiding
some things are always hidden
i'll cut the skin away but i can never get within it
nothing is real but this feeling, and i can't see it
there's no truth but this lie, and i don't believe it
no meaning but this lacking longing, and i can't kill it
inside the void, i'm numb with feeling it
what did you bury in me, cruel one?
i know you planted this monster seed, clever one
what's this demon that longs to be free, sharp one?
why did you take the peace from me, cruel one?
something lies beneath the reality of this dream,
i t ' s a m i s s i n g p i e c e o f m e, cruel one!
and i can't break it free, you see, you see,
i can't see
can't make out the darkness, can't tell which part is missing
don't know the food to satiate the hunger, don't know the elixir to kill the disease
can't see the wound but i can feel it oozing,
i can feel it and it hurts me,
but i can't see it, and i can't kill it
underneath the surface, something's hiding
and some truths aren't meant to be known
as the lights get brighter, i get dimmer
i can't see it,
but it i see alone
Monday, 11 May 2015
Hmmmmmm......
What do you get for the man,
Who has everything?
Perhaps an electric toilet seat opener,
Or a beer can opening ring?
But, I think of EO's presence,
And on this I must sit,
I'll give you a personalised,
One use enema kit .....
:)
Who has everything?
Perhaps an electric toilet seat opener,
Or a beer can opening ring?
But, I think of EO's presence,
And on this I must sit,
I'll give you a personalised,
One use enema kit .....
:)
she is sitting right infront of me
the back of her head is all I can see
at the blackboard the teacher stands
but all I can see is his hands
cause this beautifull girl is blocking my view..
and I don't care
her blond hair smell so good
when she is not hiding it in her hood
she is the smartest girl I know
I don't know how..
and I don't care
when she looks at me I freez up
like my whole body just say stop
her voice is like music in my ears
but it stings like poison the words I hear..
and I don't care
I know we will never be
but someday someone will walk with me
hand in hand into the sunset
even though I don't know you yet..
then I will care
Jack
still looking for his Jill
the back of her head is all I can see
at the blackboard the teacher stands
but all I can see is his hands
cause this beautifull girl is blocking my view..
and I don't care
her blond hair smell so good
when she is not hiding it in her hood
she is the smartest girl I know
I don't know how..
and I don't care
when she looks at me I freez up
like my whole body just say stop
her voice is like music in my ears
but it stings like poison the words I hear..
and I don't care
I know we will never be
but someday someone will walk with me
hand in hand into the sunset
even though I don't know you yet..
then I will care
Jack
still looking for his Jill
Sunday, 10 May 2015
THE BUMBLEBEE......
Once there was a bumblebee pretty as can be,
flying thru a garden of illegal plants often called weed.
And as far as the ..little bee can see,
There was a bunny rabbit taking a wee wee.
The little bee saw something peculiar about the situation,
cuz the taco bell wrapper by the bunny meant one thing.... "Flatuation".
The bee buzzed aimlessly because of the poisonus gas,
and rammed straight into a horses ass.
Horsie didnt like a bee stinger jammed into his butt,
especially when he was mounting another horse,commiting some smut.
Horsie tail swatted the fly with all his might,
but the be would not give in without a fight!
Then the bee started stinging some more and more,
the horse cried out in pain, "YOU DAMN SON OF A WHORE!!!"
The bee flew away victorious, and feeling very glorious.
The Bee finally found a big field that had a flower patch,
He craved some honey and thought that he would take a batch.
On his way to see what the to see what the flowers would yield,
the breeze blew and blew and soon the bee became a splat on a pinto windshield.
FIN
I actually made this one so feel free to tell me
how you like my masterpiece.......
= D
"paper nails"
Since I haven't written anything new lately, here's one of the few ones I rescued from my old harddrive that I don't believe I've posted before.
"paper nails"
paper nails and razor thin
beneath the waves too tired to swim
chlorine green and rotting black
release your anger i'll take it back
headache strain and stomach churn
away the cut away the burn
razor nails and paper thin
too damn tired to start this again
when farther away is more like home
girl so tired and girl so alone
pushed far enough to honestly say
i almost hurt myself today
in hopes the pain would go away
paper nails and razor thin
sick of this battle i cannot win
sick of the powerlessness i hold within.
sick of black and sick of white
sick of nothing being right
waves dark and ocean deep
lured into the depths of sleep
with paper nails and razor thin
i'm just too damn tired to rise again
yes, i am.
"paper nails"
paper nails and razor thin
beneath the waves too tired to swim
chlorine green and rotting black
release your anger i'll take it back
headache strain and stomach churn
away the cut away the burn
razor nails and paper thin
too damn tired to start this again
when farther away is more like home
girl so tired and girl so alone
pushed far enough to honestly say
i almost hurt myself today
in hopes the pain would go away
paper nails and razor thin
sick of this battle i cannot win
sick of the powerlessness i hold within.
sick of black and sick of white
sick of nothing being right
waves dark and ocean deep
lured into the depths of sleep
with paper nails and razor thin
i'm just too damn tired to rise again
yes, i am.
Saturday, 9 May 2015
I must say this has caught me quiet,
This full frontal type attack,
My post was quite ignored by all,
The response was kinda slack.
But, Doom, your gem of art rules all,
Posted for all UV to see,
You have encapsulated my day at work,
Or summarised the essence of me.
But let me return to my post,
That humble sort of one,
About "Twinkle, Twinkle/ABC",
You know the silly one.
Charlie and I were lounging in bed,
"IQ" was on the tube,
Einstein was playing the violin,
Now stop those thoughts so rude.
I was lubed up on that bourbon thing,
That's not so vary rare,
When the tuneualar comparison struck,
It's something not quite so rare.
For as Einstein played the violin,
I sang both songs in my head,
My mind is a whirlpool of such excrement,
It won't stop until I'm dead.
The sad thing is I'm on holidays,
No-where near my work,
Sooooooo, the pic is a little inaccurate,
But before you call me "jerk",
It reflects what I do all day,
Laze about dreaming up stuff,
To make those little cretins feel miserable,
And their pitiful lives so tough .....
:)
Cheers from the Land of Oz
(loved it!)
This full frontal type attack,
My post was quite ignored by all,
The response was kinda slack.
But, Doom, your gem of art rules all,
Posted for all UV to see,
You have encapsulated my day at work,
Or summarised the essence of me.
But let me return to my post,
That humble sort of one,
About "Twinkle, Twinkle/ABC",
You know the silly one.
Charlie and I were lounging in bed,
"IQ" was on the tube,
Einstein was playing the violin,
Now stop those thoughts so rude.
I was lubed up on that bourbon thing,
That's not so vary rare,
When the tuneualar comparison struck,
It's something not quite so rare.
For as Einstein played the violin,
I sang both songs in my head,
My mind is a whirlpool of such excrement,
It won't stop until I'm dead.
The sad thing is I'm on holidays,
No-where near my work,
Sooooooo, the pic is a little inaccurate,
But before you call me "jerk",
It reflects what I do all day,
Laze about dreaming up stuff,
To make those little cretins feel miserable,
And their pitiful lives so tough .....
:)
Cheers from the Land of Oz
(loved it!)
Rads Falling
Since I'm a Poetry Bastard, I have
bastardized 'Pure Morning' by Placebo
Rads Falling
A friend in need is a friend indeed
A friend Unclean is better
With soap and brush only ever wash
Your wounds and stitch them together
A friend in need is a friend indeed
A friend with Smeet is better
You'll never waste can't beat the taste
Of this NRA passed fodder
A friend in need is a friend indeed
A friend with Peeps is better
Those little sweets multicoloured treats
Will change you now and forever
A friend in need is a friend indeed
Lack of swede is better
No pepper or squash to finally quash
This guanabana/rutabaga fervour
early warning Atomiq's crawling
early warning Atomiq's crawling
early warning Atomiq's crawling
early warning Atomiq's crawling
rads falling
rads falling
rads falling
rads falling
A friend in need is a friend indeed
A friend whose green is better
A toast to peace with the mutant race
Instead of toasting with Flamer
A friend in need is a friend indeed
A friend who reads is better
To read my posts and make some jokes
To rant and praise and blather
early warning Atomiq's crawling
early warning Atomiq's crawling
early warning Atomiq's crawling
rads falling
rads falling
rads falling
A friend in need is a friend indeed
Poetry is better
A couplet or two even Haiku
Beer lets the Muses unfetter
A friend in need is a friend indeed
Mr Freeze is better
Change H2O so it won't flow
Then there's no risk of washing ever
Thanks to Placebo for generating the
idea in the first place.
bastardized 'Pure Morning' by Placebo
Rads Falling
A friend in need is a friend indeed
A friend Unclean is better
With soap and brush only ever wash
Your wounds and stitch them together
A friend in need is a friend indeed
A friend with Smeet is better
You'll never waste can't beat the taste
Of this NRA passed fodder
A friend in need is a friend indeed
A friend with Peeps is better
Those little sweets multicoloured treats
Will change you now and forever
A friend in need is a friend indeed
Lack of swede is better
No pepper or squash to finally quash
This guanabana/rutabaga fervour
early warning Atomiq's crawling
early warning Atomiq's crawling
early warning Atomiq's crawling
early warning Atomiq's crawling
rads falling
rads falling
rads falling
rads falling
A friend in need is a friend indeed
A friend whose green is better
A toast to peace with the mutant race
Instead of toasting with Flamer
A friend in need is a friend indeed
A friend who reads is better
To read my posts and make some jokes
To rant and praise and blather
early warning Atomiq's crawling
early warning Atomiq's crawling
early warning Atomiq's crawling
rads falling
rads falling
rads falling
A friend in need is a friend indeed
Poetry is better
A couplet or two even Haiku
Beer lets the Muses unfetter
A friend in need is a friend indeed
Mr Freeze is better
Change H2O so it won't flow
Then there's no risk of washing ever
Thanks to Placebo for generating the
idea in the first place.
Friday, 8 May 2015
Posting from here in Japan
Where economic disasters happen
Enjoying sagas by Ymir
While US eyes get dimmer
Relax, Yanks, the idiots will still get a thumpin'
---------------------
Yeah, that was a pretty weak limerick...
---------------------
Patrol the nightly BBS
With trusty hound beside me
Let him rip their ...kneecaps...off
Should they get too rowdy
Night Patrol on Duty here
Tho not for too much longer
Have to catch my train, Ymir
And it doesn't pay to linger.
Where economic disasters happen
Enjoying sagas by Ymir
While US eyes get dimmer
Relax, Yanks, the idiots will still get a thumpin'
---------------------
Yeah, that was a pretty weak limerick...
---------------------
Patrol the nightly BBS
With trusty hound beside me
Let him rip their ...kneecaps...off
Should they get too rowdy
Night Patrol on Duty here
Tho not for too much longer
Have to catch my train, Ymir
And it doesn't pay to linger.
Thursday, 7 May 2015
Hell, the more time that elapses,
The more my faith collapses,
In what we call humanity.
To where has our saftey gone?
The olden days for which we long,
When people could roam unhindered.
Life is meant for us to celebrate,
Not to merely sit and vegetate,
Afraid to leave our own homes.
Charlie, SEH and I have moved,
We have gone anti-metro grooved,
And moved to a smaller town.
One where people are so warm,
Safety to which they they all conform,
And humanity is not dead.
Our lives are so much freer now,
In the land of cane and cow,
But there's a McDonalds here too.
I say find somewhere back in time,
Where people smile & weather's fine,
For our lives are just to short.
Cheers from the Land of Oz
The more my faith collapses,
In what we call humanity.
To where has our saftey gone?
The olden days for which we long,
When people could roam unhindered.
Life is meant for us to celebrate,
Not to merely sit and vegetate,
Afraid to leave our own homes.
Charlie, SEH and I have moved,
We have gone anti-metro grooved,
And moved to a smaller town.
One where people are so warm,
Safety to which they they all conform,
And humanity is not dead.
Our lives are so much freer now,
In the land of cane and cow,
But there's a McDonalds here too.
I say find somewhere back in time,
Where people smile & weather's fine,
For our lives are just to short.
Cheers from the Land of Oz
To be the first tech
is it a honor I want?
Questions must be answered
even if the callers are Unwashed.
But to be a bastard
and still answer the lines.
Some callers might live
but many would die.
I could do it
and keep my instincts in check.
I would have to stop telling users
to use forks for voltage tests.
Now all that must be done
is to learn how to ryme
maybe write a few poems
will people enjoy mine?
As for being a bastard
your right, I am a techy
Callers should still watch it
less they become people smeet.
Skeleton Jack, proud to call
himself a Tech Poetry Bastard of the Unwashed :)
is it a honor I want?
Questions must be answered
even if the callers are Unwashed.
But to be a bastard
and still answer the lines.
Some callers might live
but many would die.
I could do it
and keep my instincts in check.
I would have to stop telling users
to use forks for voltage tests.
Now all that must be done
is to learn how to ryme
maybe write a few poems
will people enjoy mine?
As for being a bastard
your right, I am a techy
Callers should still watch it
less they become people smeet.
Skeleton Jack, proud to call
himself a Tech Poetry Bastard of the Unwashed :)
Wednesday, 6 May 2015
A long while ago some verse was placed
Of Bastards in Hell drinking beer
Mention was made of a need for ice
I think my course is clear
You want ice? You got it!
Although it might be hard
There won't be any in The Glow
Maybe I'll try Boneyard
For we will certainly need it
Drinking beer in hell
But since I come from England
I'll drink it warm just as well
I'm glad to be a Bastard
The poetic trade to ply
Thinking back to Ymir's invite to join
I even rhymed in reply
But now I have to tell you
There's beer ad then there's BEER
I'm talking of the stuff I drink
Way, way over here
The name's of some of these beers
Will really make you titter
It seems to be a convention
When naming Stout, Mild, and Bitter:
Ruggie's Russet Nectar
Belly Rumbler, Belly Ringer
Andrew's Cobblestone Stout
Dog Bolter, Bishop's Finger
Deep Shaft Stout, Reekit Yill
Copperwinkle, Welder's Armpit
Old Cantankerous, Old Peculiar, Old Fart
(In "The Lost Boy's" it's Grandpa's favorite)
Blunderbus Old Porter
Pendle Witches Brew
Hundreds more are out there
These are just a few
So raise a glass, make a toast
Enjoy this infernal repose
We'll sing and sup a pint or three
Then tweak the Devil's nose
Cheers from the...
Cheers fr...
Cheers!
Jonesy
Of Bastards in Hell drinking beer
Mention was made of a need for ice
I think my course is clear
You want ice? You got it!
Although it might be hard
There won't be any in The Glow
Maybe I'll try Boneyard
For we will certainly need it
Drinking beer in hell
But since I come from England
I'll drink it warm just as well
I'm glad to be a Bastard
The poetic trade to ply
Thinking back to Ymir's invite to join
I even rhymed in reply
But now I have to tell you
There's beer ad then there's BEER
I'm talking of the stuff I drink
Way, way over here
The name's of some of these beers
Will really make you titter
It seems to be a convention
When naming Stout, Mild, and Bitter:
Ruggie's Russet Nectar
Belly Rumbler, Belly Ringer
Andrew's Cobblestone Stout
Dog Bolter, Bishop's Finger
Deep Shaft Stout, Reekit Yill
Copperwinkle, Welder's Armpit
Old Cantankerous, Old Peculiar, Old Fart
(In "The Lost Boy's" it's Grandpa's favorite)
Blunderbus Old Porter
Pendle Witches Brew
Hundreds more are out there
These are just a few
So raise a glass, make a toast
Enjoy this infernal repose
We'll sing and sup a pint or three
Then tweak the Devil's nose
Cheers from the...
Cheers fr...
Cheers!
Jonesy
Tuesday, 5 May 2015
Alcohol, tobacco and firearms rule,
They are the one-stop shop,
They are the reason the site is good,
For their use shall not stop.
The tobacco is used to keep workers going,
To keep them on a high,
That nicotine serves to stretch their nerves,
And the hours simply fly.
The firearms are used to threaten,
Those who do not belong,
They are also used as a punishment,
For HTML programmers who get it wrong.
The alcohol is used as a carrot,
Like that in front of a horse,
For the workers are promised a p!ss-up,
If the site's good, of course.
Cheers from the Land of Oz
They are the one-stop shop,
They are the reason the site is good,
For their use shall not stop.
The tobacco is used to keep workers going,
To keep them on a high,
That nicotine serves to stretch their nerves,
And the hours simply fly.
The firearms are used to threaten,
Those who do not belong,
They are also used as a punishment,
For HTML programmers who get it wrong.
The alcohol is used as a carrot,
Like that in front of a horse,
For the workers are promised a p!ss-up,
If the site's good, of course.
Cheers from the Land of Oz
It's true about the couplet bit,
though about the rhyming i'm not sure
against the thought of Unwashing B....'s
I'm not really very sure!
However in the light of things,
all simple and yet to come
so far so good,no one's complained as yet for
i'm not here to take ymir's fun
(It's nice to finally get a change to say hi
to you all in UB land
Thanks Lerk and others for the welcome.
Chat soon
though about the rhyming i'm not sure
against the thought of Unwashing B....'s
I'm not really very sure!
However in the light of things,
all simple and yet to come
so far so good,no one's complained as yet for
i'm not here to take ymir's fun
(It's nice to finally get a change to say hi
to you all in UB land
Thanks Lerk and others for the welcome.
Chat soon
Monday, 4 May 2015
i had a little prob you see
it was all about ymir...
he liked to rhyme and chat and game
while drinking lots of cheer.
he'd tell me things about you guys
and rave about this board
he said to have a try myself
continually at me he nawed
" have a little go" he said
you'll love it once you try
so here i am , here at last
ignoring sophie's cry
'don't leave me mum you puter head'
her little eyes did plead,
now on this thing i'd rather be
than ironing instead !
so now you dirty villagers
have two for the price of one
a doting poetry addict called ymir
and his charlie girl for fun!
it was all about ymir...
he liked to rhyme and chat and game
while drinking lots of cheer.
he'd tell me things about you guys
and rave about this board
he said to have a try myself
continually at me he nawed
" have a little go" he said
you'll love it once you try
so here i am , here at last
ignoring sophie's cry
'don't leave me mum you puter head'
her little eyes did plead,
now on this thing i'd rather be
than ironing instead !
so now you dirty villagers
have two for the price of one
a doting poetry addict called ymir
and his charlie girl for fun!
angel feathers"
angel feathers
float down from the sky
as the crystals fall
i gently wipe my eye
such poignant beauty
that in awe, i softly cry
angel feathers
falling down onto my face
their sweetness makes up
for all the bile i've had to taste
such defenseless innocence
my heart almost breaks
angel feathers
drifting gently past me
sometimes you only have
to look in the sky to see
that life can hold happiness
that it can contain beauty
and as a reason to live,
this works for me
someday those will be my feathers.
float down from the sky
as the crystals fall
i gently wipe my eye
such poignant beauty
that in awe, i softly cry
angel feathers
falling down onto my face
their sweetness makes up
for all the bile i've had to taste
such defenseless innocence
my heart almost breaks
angel feathers
drifting gently past me
sometimes you only have
to look in the sky to see
that life can hold happiness
that it can contain beauty
and as a reason to live,
this works for me
someday those will be my feathers.
Sunday, 3 May 2015
A million cliques spring to mind,
None of them sound right,
The loss never seems to soften much,
But your soul it continues to bite.
The one thing that helps me through,
That stops me going insane,
Is that the loved one who's passed away,
Wouldn't want to cause you pain.
You have my sympathies, Mcleod,
From here that's all I can do,
But feel free to email me,
If that may at all help you.
None of them sound right,
The loss never seems to soften much,
But your soul it continues to bite.
The one thing that helps me through,
That stops me going insane,
Is that the loved one who's passed away,
Wouldn't want to cause you pain.
You have my sympathies, Mcleod,
From here that's all I can do,
But feel free to email me,
If that may at all help you.
Saturday, 2 May 2015
Oh thow almighty poet
A wizard don't you know it
Your way with words beyond compare
Mostly faeces everywhere.
Each time you come up with a beaut
Pity you can't make lots loot
I love your words waxing lyrical
At times they are most hysterical
To read your words tis such a pleasure
But oh your sister, what a treasure.
Keep up the good work my baby brother
You are the best, there is no other!
A wizard don't you know it
Your way with words beyond compare
Mostly faeces everywhere.
Each time you come up with a beaut
Pity you can't make lots loot
I love your words waxing lyrical
At times they are most hysterical
To read your words tis such a pleasure
But oh your sister, what a treasure.
Keep up the good work my baby brother
You are the best, there is no other!
shimmer in the darkness
a hand moves in the darkness
and i watch it
watch it move
watch it reach out
but i avoid it
i keep my eyes on it
and i keep out of reach
from those saviour fingers
ah, don't you see that when
you wake me from this dream
it's to a nightmare
so much stronger than the last
the nightmare is this:
the gift of bliss
and then having it taken away
a voice calls in the darkness
and i can hear it
hear it beseech
hear its frustration and hurt
but i don't console it
i listen to each poignant sound
and i ignore it
that anyone should hurt for me
as badly as i do
ah, don't you see that when
you take my destruction from me
i'm not a person,
just a shadow of what used to be
the reality is such:
a ghost you cannot touch
a spirit which is to its core afraid
a heart breaks in the darkness
and it's hard to tell
whether it was mine or yours.
and i watch it
watch it move
watch it reach out
but i avoid it
i keep my eyes on it
and i keep out of reach
from those saviour fingers
ah, don't you see that when
you wake me from this dream
it's to a nightmare
so much stronger than the last
the nightmare is this:
the gift of bliss
and then having it taken away
a voice calls in the darkness
and i can hear it
hear it beseech
hear its frustration and hurt
but i don't console it
i listen to each poignant sound
and i ignore it
that anyone should hurt for me
as badly as i do
ah, don't you see that when
you take my destruction from me
i'm not a person,
just a shadow of what used to be
the reality is such:
a ghost you cannot touch
a spirit which is to its core afraid
a heart breaks in the darkness
and it's hard to tell
whether it was mine or yours.
Friday, 1 May 2015
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