"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.