I stood atop rows of pale stone stale markers of our own living bravery sprawling out in a harbor, foggy as Ole slavery vivid in still memory, on this hill serving as a cemetery a sea of white chess pieces combed by somber cries blacklisted forever under these November owned lavender skies My mind was now a radar station ready to receive, some how in relation to the sum of all parts now in sedation, true the stories of those buried around me their vibrations, code and oddities situations of the dead; molten dichotomies I sat scowled, feeling on mushy green grass the blood of coffers, fools gold seeing finally at last: I saw ten thousand jokers pursing dark smiles, amusing The Great Spirit dancing on golden strings of desire, striking depths of murderous merit I saw five hundred bats scream through double rainbows muffled against the sun, on euphoric flights of gold in kilos I saw The Great Plains gutted entirely by bloodthirsty vacation sport trails of decay and long lines of Apachee hurriedly sanctioned as escorts Above, twenty soaring eagles dropping eggs randomly in support bracing a last full measure laced in a circumference of sorts signaling red in valentine preference, to walk fine lines in accepted mainstream reference this one divine time I heard one million battle cries at once, the collective of mankind each different but the same, all reflective and confined to eternal rest and affluent stings of angel tipped-kisses their pasty bliss digital in glitches strangled by eloquence lipped in eclipses I kissed my fingers and offered love to the master God I was dismissed I figured, a windsurfer on a faster squad all was not settled or clean, or as free. or as simple as it seems I realized I saw many things, and I remember seeing meaningful meanings... I closed my eyes Some time after that, I painted all my windows black I was now the ship and my mind the bottle my face long and my stare empty, soulless two pupils larger than dinner plates staring point blank at absolutely nothing forcing every ounce of energy to move my Queen of hearts behind a stage curtain called Jupiter wrapped in a moist membrane of my ancestral past I was gone now I will suffer through the awkwardness mostly because I do not exist
Fear. My mind shattered into pieces and I fell on both knees crying atop fallen shards of daggers, trenched omniscient and implying knowledge of myself. Of my hurting, my lying, its cheating pendants that's all I seemed to do and I was exposed, under red fluorescents a pungent reminder of the medicinal properties of karma its chemicals and articulation, stitching my hearts fall Lacerations etched a maze of blisters on my sunlit body and I couldn't feel them. I was euphoric from the punishment probably and I chased the high again and again, shooting up its ornate arrow its feathers flared out of my existence, its tip a sharp soothing voice of good company and shoestring comforts, coolly poised it contracted a smile from me, amusing my lipid shackles an inner Jackal laughing insipidly, choking on erratic crackles it resonated throughout my circuitry of unabated servitude just now tasting the fruit of my labor, fully ripe it knew I reached one arm up and held on for another first day When the world felt correct and so thirsty someway Or any other conviction of universal truth So orderly and prescribed and very vital to my own deception I saw the distant churning and turning of clumsy vultures circling and swerving consistent random patterns in the sky I knew then I was their fertile soil, once I die I felt un-proportionally top heavy and thought a map of redemption could find me and be caught or be found if I swayed against them long enough for more time to play my last card, a two of jaded hearts desperations only hope, blindly bluffing a fools baited dart I envisioned their hooks clamping down on my leathery flesh, blood damp and brown shampooed and conditioned into soft raw material As imperial as the true color of eternal sun shine I clenched my teeth, waiting for the interval pain to subside waiting for the last call... And so I faced my Judgment over and over chasing my own sins around and around again but never quite getting anywhere beyond the Saviors soothing hand, grabbing at straws because the Devil was sort of behind him, pulling but ahead now, controlling in a relative way and while I fell into lucid dreams and lost all to irrational fantasy he never spoke again with much words to say content that I will suffer a life times worth
Snow Leopard Hymn. Listen to me, you, Snow Leopard Paw tracks show that you kept toward them. You saw their backs hours before our wagons, traps, snares, all lured forward For war. For rape of any inheritance Be saddened, beware, be forewarned. Fore legions in fair exhibits, folklore born dare a visit to the ridge of Babylon singing fire, the Dragon Reborn Song They chant, the war must run its synthesis as how cotton sows fabric as now Jesus sues Genesis a death of one thousand lashes, a few fair ounces added to Angela's ashes patience is what they hate, do wait for any vacant openings, famously faint Yes do wait, Snow Leopard They hate you Snow Leopard You are Earth of one legend, of many Plateau fertile as Garden, edged in Edens patched rows You are Kingdom, crowned by vine ripe tomatoes a court with eleven seeds to sew, planted naturally by violent fights faded ago by lineage. By the dialect of history and it has been written about so, Their sun is our aura, denying to nourish green shoots to flora, marked X by thee whorish fleets. Their searchlights plant ashore ideas only to drain them, then sailing for Pandora Mans Island of Evil that stows below-- glowing laughter flown by crows of old and they will ravage you, Snow Leopard I love you Snow Leopard I was certainly sure I did your eyes, blue Superior Superlatives and mine, over sized Apricots* you, white, mapped-over after dots A dark prince of top elusiveness hard since youth, sufficient hop to usefulness Man ? Red, an oath leaf of ivy trunked of lies; storied oak anthologies rooted in skunked belly deceit, a meeting of no apologies nor no receipt I show you Snow Leopard You go right. brain knows it's left Man learns right, brain discerns it theft to tell the difference between: first, remain unseen with steady breath and hope. Then listen to the cracks in the wall with a stethoscope and if it's open it must be legit fit for average consumption, don't forget because what is private is handled by pirates prying loose profits from privileged diets Remember that and tell your Kingdom, Snow Leopard You are their face of spades a space of cascading snow flakes placed sun faded, flanked stunned, not alienated while North went West and East sent forth South they went Left of course! Unless record melted a compass in their mouth I sang verses from the Dragon Reborn to you Snow Leopard, you hissed: Soon, Legionaries of one feather will smile twisted downward arcs of cruelty exposing fangs of one thousand year old tusks sucking the golden apple that never was milking mountain breasts of Earth Mother bleeding succulent venom upon her nursery poisoning the well of youth, virginity and the voice of elders, its wisdom in search of all Snow Leopards the sacrificial lamb and key ignition switch to New World Order Soon there will be immunity to mass mutiny Soon it will be half the global scrutiny Soon flags are half mast, raised in arms Marching one staff against unity *Thx to kittenx for the over sized Apricots phrase. I borrowed it from her <3
Chess Coup d'état A rag of Pawns have yet to reveal to you, my Queen, their subconsciousness; a storm system forming near your rein of consciousness. Their tears bleed acidic rain drops, eroding away thought. Their unity hails the size of imagination, pounding away logic. And their stealth, a bolt of lighting, splits a second behind the crackle of their ensuing thunder. My Queen, it will unsettle all contemporary foundations. Let it rain, let it rein. I warn you, my Queen, that A Pawn laughs as he calculates and mixes in acid rain and bubble gum fixed as medicine... Loading subtle guns for some fast chance to jettison life of rank and file to go stencil in ten SOS Messages signaling distressed shot instances kept Checked to mate Chaos in bloodshed plotted premises. At all costs, in spite of red blemishes caught painting a real horror to lives lost Listen closely everybody, His pills send surreal dopamine hand cranked, telescoped in and out, until reasoning is totally maliced by dope ripe against discreet tyrannical positions of power knife in check, masterful in his grand finale hour All waiting on some Trumpeter to bugle the call of war under one blood banner flying high the fall of Kings, tightening a noose around the Queens bed Splitting her long legs loosely, stabbing her seams red finger nails scraping out her orifice, raw slush blood picked teeth lick flesh, dry fucking to flush out all direct claims to the Virgin Mary Certain to burn any seed inside that may carry the next line of unhealthy ego, next of kin with a mirror mirror on the wall, sworn in existence with rusty slit wrists pinned to orange tinted crucifixes And you, my king, come closley, You and your royal ties will sever for ever your rein of tax and terror will face a mirror and the look back will demonstrate all the hate, however pastel painted, you retain in lieu of me It's hostel, raided by youths in fox holes both dying and surviving orthodox souls simultaneously Simply because, All is kept silent of which is alienable in open water- never too far off are jaws of intercept, inept on all attainable truths spoken for barter Live. Let. Outlet for the onset. Let. Live. Onset for the outlet. Check mate by Coup d'état.
In one life I was a farmer born lowly into blistered lands worn into existence with a mixture of soil and salted sweaty hands It was then, against all odds, that I gave to Kingdoms and country feeding fat children of old wealth, in need of wheat thins and barley The Nobles too, fed from my garden; from my hand like sour pigs I raised them, watched them harden- from kids to powdered Wigs I saw them rise out of The Dark Ages, their power consolidation a blanket of death housing a serpent frown around all our nations squeezing my life as a puppet, of course pulling at sliver strings until I died before Monarchs, but not before learning a few things In another life I was born an Indian to a Seminole Chiefdom I lived in unison and sung songs in one regional anthem I had unintelligible wisdom and blossomed first like a native flower deep rooted in ancestral soil under humid rainy showers I grew peacefully under one million smitten Sun sets learning again, yet another dialect a kin to written alphabets in my last breath of fruition the Spanish fleets surprised us we offered tobacco and corn, they gave us viruses I died. In another life I was a field hand in a sea of King Cotton lost in some political translation, picking until soon forgotten The smell of Yankee gun smoke flared obnoxiously to a Rebel Yell and war broke out again, for freedom but not really in this Federal hell Three hundred years later I achieved second class citizenship get out of jail free card used to wipe up the same Ole shit again, shit I died. In another life I was Amelia Earhart flying a Sigma air plane navigating blue oceans, clouds asphyxiated highly in my name I crashed and disappeared on purpose for my own amusement history ignores and creates fiction for those who never knew it In another I was engineering Democracy as a factory laborer lambs for lions in war profiteering, riveting helmets on toy soldiers my name was Rosie and I was told to hate ambitious Hitler I had stars and stripes to dream and awoken lonely to whisper softly to myself that my life will only be that of some unknown I will never age, never die, never know how fulfillment is thrown I died ninety nine thousand times and lived one million years I painted caves with blood of rivals and smiled I sustained flint lock shots of musket tipped with vile I had been a Titanic passenger, drowned but survived I crashed stock markets and thrived, swallowed thorns and lied I had been a prize fighter in the golden age of sport boxing I walked batters and pitched no hitters, old age never knocking I wrote lies for news papers and sold Ivory Coast sweet tooths I fucked Marlyn Monroe and told Jackie Onassis half truths The thing is, I live until I die only to be reborn with Adams eye I learned to believe half of what I see and nothing of what I hear superficially always witnessing the pains of history Crying, Lying, Cheating, Hurting that's all we seem to do, so good Life without end
Rainforest A network of branches weaves textured vines as trampoline fabrics Lacing fine bands of green, stitched across oceans of Atmospheric Static the molten Sun broiled above, spilling over onto endless forest canopy Pouring down amazing colors, assorted before us; in an Amazon's anatomy Below, the ground misted as a viper, sweltering under its living umbrella cover Dissipating as a kaleidoscope of splendor, globally hissing its Earth mother *** Drums of natives could be heard echoing across the valley floor no doubt a ceremony, strumming forward to behold white washed storms Yellow birds of paradise sat perched over a Murky River Majestic Unaware of the peppy cadence, rumbling on quicker now than suspected the pedals of oriental plants rattled in low bass, after each beat and the percussions resounded louder still, until the pedals shrieked Like a Serpent eating its own tail, the music grew desperate consuming itself, in an endless digestion of future betterment it was a sinuous act of instinct, faith, that the human inhabitants marched against a continuous threat, holding last wills to testament drums became symbols, and symbols became the resistance secreted clear cutting the forest floor bowed up as the prevalence needed, Chainsaws ripped at the bases of Earthly virgin forests swirling around saw dust against a flurry of birds in exodus tractor arms swiveled on pivots and dug out river basins filled them with vacation ships and let parking lots drive in workers in white hats prescribed field fires to clear more roads Jaguar refugees spotted their backs and disappeared inward, toward the rebellion against destruction, the peoples rage Against the simple machines befallen them, springing shut a cage Arrow tips peppered across the Suns arching keel railing down shards of flint, splintering around parts of steel four hundred painted faces danced after them softly pulled forward by the drummers drums raging ferocity Bulldozers were flipped and worker throats were slit Rubber tires were pincushions of arrow tipped torrents Yellow Birds of Paradise were swishing and screaming wings a cyclone of hell, their claws gripping and heaving seething and gutting out blue eyes, bloody with blonde hair Escalating louder, the drums became the sounds of one fair oscillating brother hood became the curdle of ten thousand more arrows pitted in blood Slithering like an Anaconda born to be the hero tonight The bellow of the machines contrasted the drums And they soon danced too, wrapping around eachother some A child with two red feathers lifted a chin up one slight of hand boomed, his drum pent up There could be no doubt now.
Growth I left Michigan no more worse for the Florida glare I was sore, of course, sorta from its boredom stares I had two quarters in my pocket and five dimes stacked in the back one dollar to my name and the high times calling again to ask If I was serious about my life this time, to leave it all behind these romanticized mechanics and the free spirt themes of mine about the things I did, my standing ovation antics- dreams of fancy free wheels spinning up stream, floating forever by means of dancing And karma had always told me that my time would somberly come now she dropped hints that it was my life throwing down under some how I was no longer the young teacher in a large universe or the kid that once impeached her, becoming her leader first I remembered me; a crisp point of light in the night sky the December wish of death, the mighty white Knight of lies being once the notes, and the recapitulation of the Clemson Blood the symphony of destruction, composed in a unison becoming undone how my heart was the harborer of failure on the cross roads of thorns and I walked forward, for I was hailed by hell in winters sorrow storms Older now, at the age of twenty nine, looking back only to wake and weep at the quarter century of times I pleaded, allowing the cheap talk to speak for me, all my faults tasted a shitty sandwich, stale but sea salted exhausting young minds to fail the youth at all cost; for no reason I did and how when you're young you never grow up, never slow down even now I hung back for some lever to show up- though I drowned I remember I observed all with sick receptiveness quick to deal half truths again, a clue to its synthesis I lied to those who helped me, denied those who did not became a sure shot dealer in a legion of sly nonchalant I sold out my future to hollow short term advantages life in the movement now, for later was total suffrage But today, I realized what I had and what I didn't It wasn't the crimson sun with golden fields reminiscent or the dream of ten white fences and cotton clouds, painted on life in some picture perfect time forgotten, too complacent Today did not care if I had the chance to correct the past it gave up what I had cast called in retrospect at last What I have now is lifes lesson and only that the daily struggle that questions a lonely chance luck, that I taught myself honesty by dividing the subtractions in my life I caught the fever and the spices to attract a second chance, twice and my Ancestors came in a dream, suddenly, humbly what I now mean What does what mean ? As Grandfather bows to Father accordingly and Grandfather says listen to harmony, a developmental stanza balancing unanimously, our noisy minority And forever on I knew what it meant to be a man
There was an odd sensation radiating and it wasn't the warm fire it wasn't the grass nor the unpaid villagers used to grow and farm her though, there was something very off tonight, something different going on The Peoples Dragon slept strong and snored, buzzing, sawing dream logs Music plucked up quirky moods and shadows swallowed up the village The moon was full and loomed above, up earlier tonight in the outer edges Still, nothing moved against any to inhibit the workings of daily happenings Men packed tobacco in pipes and held council mostly about happy things children sat on dirty shins with dirty faces, wide eyed expecting stories of The Dragon Guardian; a beast of Thirty Ages who spit wet fire horridly Women moved about with quick nimbleness, tending stock and frying pans unsuspecting of one Lady in Red dress, near the Dragon with prying hands... Her face was a triangle of hate, and two eyes graphed above a clef tooth her hair trained back after each hot breath, studying the Dragons next move wearing the dress of the Crimson Blood and a ring of The Dreaming Inception her ability was for hire; to work in nightmares hanging in endless suspension linking sleep worlds to the waking, connecting a bridge more sinister than hell: Evil, The Great Lord of the Dark, Satan screaming or whatever filled her she hailed against the Village she hustled the Dragons rest- now woven with infiltrated vines and they grew to wrap around his thoughts, watered by hate, saturated by swine ** A crack of lighting flashed and the Lady smiled her Dragon pet awoken to her hands waving wild his eyes flickered like a casino slot, rolling, shifting pupils larger than baskets, peering, slowly lifting the ground rumbled as one giant screaming eagle the sky filled with the dark silhouette wings, too lethal towering above the village the Dragon rose demanding glowing eyes from a birds advantage, his heart stolen but fanning the pursuits of the people were now standing at attention looking up they saw the wings cradling them, no question The children looked up from childhood stories interrupted and the men froze to the sight of the oven enclosing so morbid the Women ran screaming grabbing kin, running from destruction The Lady motioned silver hands as the puppet master, jerking stings the Dragon dance certainly, talons and tail reacting to her purposely fire rained down splashing the pits of hell, over flowing as a iron ore burned fleshed smothered the air and stacked bodies scorned for, as long as the spell was woven, as long as hell swelled up shore The Dragon hissed down a wet blanket of fallen fire tightly sealed by wings wrapped around, lost in lava pliers he was no longer the Guardian protector, or a pet of the people over taken, computed to be evil, he looked blank seeping full of dark thoughts and Juggernaut rationale no longer sane scooping down as a crane crunching bones and window panes He stomped out dead dreams and last breaths the people he knew and the Villages best no remorse or second chances, one pillage down and ten more to go, no living heart would ever know the life of any sanctuary or corn planted in rows He fluttered his wings in a ripple of tiding shake the lady in Red dress hoped on and the reins she raked they were off to the next town, the next target the Great Lord of the Dark was off, but now lethargic and he was more organized, neat in his mind and the world shifted backwards again in saddened time __________________
The Clemson Tides Ready, Set. Sailing the soft spoken ocean on a Sister Ship Again, Sent as a whisper mailing messages from my older lips I hit the deck expecting a dress of sex to reflect Mother's hips And I regress that I must slit my wrist to register this sick effect That the colors and splendor chosen plead the fifth since its offense Then I fold more LSD into my eyelids and stitch them up for its stench Then I roll another one-hitter, then trip over high bids rolled in sixths Then I hide behind the railing, eying the waves on XTC simply rolling Why ocean air tastes salty is only known in the Captain's holding Then I knock on his door and he's smoking some stupid white dreams Then I take his exhale, smelling lucid nightmares so its seems Then I slap my face fifty times, hoping, praying, hallucinating Why is his face melting ? As if his face isn't port side tracing Ready, Set. Behaving high in my mind and the lies intensify Again, Swaying, to the Ship's irony, sailing wide in Clemson Tides I deck the halls with my balls of drugs, vibrating in suspended times And I regress that I find the Rest Room behind long lines of people That all the reasons to rewind and ask directions is to no equal Then a lady, at five, talks of Jesus between her unsung steeple Then maybe she lets me in her thighs to sneak my tongue through Then I warm up in her panties and snug her curves for me to cum to Why is she a tulip sent, sweet tar to two horny nostrils ? Then I find the Bath Room and allow it to snow white blow Then I line up a razor and soon snort below the toilet bowl Then I find myself shuttering and wheezing that God is great Why coke is in my eyes and acid up my nose is beyond tonight Then I go stand at the ships bow and observe a distant land I see kids walking up a beach with pigeons in militant hands They are trying to show me something but I can't tell What they are signaling is urgent as the birds tail- the sky in a million directions but only one flies my way Then the children begin to fight each other, some are slain It's a pretty thing, this bird, and it has a little note It lands on my nose, tickling the coke drip in my throat I read it and laughed. Then Cried. Inside and out, I died It went on, saying the oceans were once beautiful, alive And how they never needed anything but self to sustain And how they splashed fair and washed away in vain And how life was once teaming with brilliant diversity And that meant for subservient Fins to swim so thirsty And finally, that, they cradled me now under this ship And they were worried about me and offered a big sip From the depths of their wisdom, trenched a mile deep And I drank with a flinch and said fuck it to sleep I stayed up with the Ocean because it was teaching me I looked onto its surface and it believed back at me Ready. Set. Tossing all my drugs into the sea Again, I was set ready to only be only me My acid tabs swirled in the current, sorry Captain Ounces of grass added perfectly for hard water action Then I dusted the water with sparkles of self treason I let the drugs float on forever in tides of one reason Then I thought of the woman with youthful thighs When I Remembered the night with her I only sighed I would see her again many nights without any crutch I Would feel her breasts against my lips lonely touch And I would exhale hot air over her opaque nipple Lowering hands along curved hips keeping it simple And finally, I looked up and thought of the children too Felt the distant shore wash up on their silver booths And I thanked them for their honesty and suffering Told them the Ocean has me now with modest offerings And I wished them blessings for letting the message fly Why must we all recount the order of our own Clemson Tides ?
Dear Dr. Seuss, I slit my wrist today to sip up the poison It's my choice with veins this noisy again In there, a Choir of voices all sung in tune Their faces were bloody, drawn as color cartoons My better judgment laid back despite my absence Whatever I say, blame it on my stab wounds, since I'm sick but healthy, somewhat odd and deranged That's why I write you, never mind the bloody stains Anyhow, what's up man ? I read Go Dog GO today A masterpiece work, full throttle all the away Took awhile, but I finished it easy enough It shook me up, but not like that Grinch stuff And what's with the Grinch anyhow ? Pure evil Essentially it alludes toward a sappy sequel And I can't miss the changes that occupy his mind Too sloppy and stressful against Christmas chimes My ears bleed out to bells storming as missiles Because Horton Hears A Who and sea shells whistle ? Why Dr. Seuss, why ? I get you, but hot damn We need to talk soon to correct this jelly jam Anyhow, I've been cleaning out my library Burning all your books that I hide and carry Making room for my own looks, in the new style I became book sick reading you after awhile You don't know me Seuss like that, in fact Don't confuse me with some random stray kats I sew needles to my eyes and recite inner rhymes Finding time to study between your beginner lines Green Eggs be dammed if Sam I am is that picky Wishing that Ham came on demand but more quickly I find meaning where kids only rewind with laughter Your books sway and last in my mind after each chapter Shakespeare shit Romeo and you spit Go Dog Go So I Vomit Juliet and burn my insides head to toe But I'm over slammed with Green Eggs and Ham I liked them, but understand I cannot be Sam So get fucked Dr. Seuss with your Cat in the Hat Your Words cluck sir; ABCs musing as acrobats You say one fish, two fish, red fish on a round dish I say finish a complete sentence not somehow childish But you can't, you wrote to our National Pastime When Coke was new and kids held dimes in lunch lines You do have talent; astonishing when candle lit Dim, I lend it to the paper in which I shit And a million pens ink over spots yet printed Yet, you leak blotches on paper and still get minted... But you're now prey and I remain the predator Yesterday was your day, today I mail this letter Sincerely, Ramb PS: Rest in peace Dr. Seuss because in the end the beat goes on...
I'm getting back into reading things here and this was the first piece I came across. Strong and sullen and moody. I could really feel the atmosphere, there was a nice crescendo of sorts and then bringing things back to a more quieter, reflective mood. Build up and release. I'll point out my favorite quotes: "a sea of white chess pieces combed by somber cries blacklisted forever under these November owned lavender skies" --- ah-mazing. "two pupils larger than dinner plates staring point blank at absolutely nothing forcing every ounce of energy to move my Queen of hearts behind a stage curtain called Jupiter wrapped in a moist membrane of my ancestral past" I like your voice and the imagery. It's fresh. I don't know whether this was inspired by the image, but if it was, kudos, that takes quite a bit of yourself. I remember doing something like that but I didn't stick to it.
I like the story here and even the verbose presentation felt like it suited the piece. You have a flair in your writing, and it's important, it's what separates you. But be careful not to lose your reader and yourself. There is a tendency to overwhelm with an onslaught of imagery and I know I've done that myself. As writers we become attached and loyal to our phrases and words. Although when we read them separately - they may be beautiful and grand, when you step back and look at a piece as whole, they may get lost and create confusion. I'm guilty of doing the same thing and defending, but with practice and thinking about the process of writing I've come to learn that sometimes less is more. Going back to this piece -- There are a lot of interesting snippets here and I like a poem with an effortless rhyme and surprising turns of the tongue.
^Thanks your for you feedback kittenx. About the Chess Coup detat, yup thank you for pointing that stuff out, in the manner you did, in the care you did and with the insights you have. It was a verse written for a rap music battle league, the focus is always flow and it's unfortunate but if you twist their tongues over there, you will get votes and win, that was a championship verse and it was a stale mate. The battle was actually like chess, it was symbolic of my rein over there lol and that my alias is also Coup detat . But the writing is still what it is, as you say it is. But that's not how I want to write. I want to leave rhyme behind and move on to a lesser frame work and have more possibilities of expressions. But I've also heard some say that with rules and boundaries they excel, just saying. I value your critic side too so feel free to not hold back when repling here in the future. Because in the end, I write for validation, to please and to entertain. Though it is not always so but I always try. Learning. blessings What did you mean by this ? I wasn't clear.
Hi RamB! I wrote a poem! Crazy times wat. I thought I'd dedicate it to you, since you're a friend, and I know you're not really a child-molesting sicko. lol It's a bit old-fashioned, but it is here in your thread now, so deal with it! Proscribed Pome There was a call for order All imperatives were pooled The lone rook circled overhead And in the sea sharks schooled. Such suction seemed the steadiness to make short work, and longer Became the way we drew our time And as our minds grew stronger We asked if what we'd set upon Was not now what was needed Freedom hung, not let to flot Through chaos being de-seeded. Art then poured its best out in defiance and from fright Highest, singing dawning song for which was no requite. Nature sung to for her fruits At last gave up her treasure A tiny hope, a laughing trust That rid man of his measure What then came next is your fine guess For finer knowledge falters And even tale told to this point Is questioned, for all alters.
a farily recent one and thank you dejavu, a beautiful piece === I like an audience so I do things, random things I was at an Assembly once and fell asleep to monotony to rasping echos, falling into a nursery of short attentions the speaker was one bearded neck vocalizing safe sex or vote or die or whatever I was sleeping anyways, don't matter an elbow nudged a lower rib and I lifted crusty eyes took in a thousand images and bit my lower lip yawing I mentally told off the dude next to me and my head rocked back again an elbow again fuck it, let's roll I pulled out a Marlboro from a shirt pocket light it against one hundred gasps exhaled into infinity, smoke rings for Jesus I guess, whatever I stood to stretch my jeans but really to see the sea of faces all point blank, some laughing some judging, most up tight the bearded speaker froze now every ounce of energy turned on me, I took another drag I was the Assembly now speaker, or whatever don't matter, they led me into the lime light I exhaled into a womans face never noticed her really because I was on the stage now Looking into the sea of cookie cut faces I took another drag of the Marlboro exhaled thinking about what to do up here, king of the mountain thinking fuck it, I pressed a white knuckle against a hitch hikers thumb knocking my Marlboro back to let the mother fucker with happy elbows have a sentiment of my attention
