clear ponds' ripples swim slowly
through everything,
even the stationary legs of the pier
my father worked on those many years ago,
and in the winter white icing falls from the sky,
he always used to tell me -
we would sit on the roof and watch nature paint the town,
and i would close my eyes and wonder
if snow was always this peaceful.
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my mouth is full of winsome lies -
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
Oh that boysenberry tart
stick my fork into her heart
get that fructose on my lips
the bittersweet of innocence
roll it over behind my tongue
squish between my ring and thumb
all over me the spill of love
thrash around like pigs in mud
two, three, and four times now
'till shes sore from heel to brow
devoured lustily her mess
and followed with a cigarette
we were pollocks
all signing our names with profanities
painting inanity
west wings and death sings
cut ourselves by heartstrings
and hang up the purse strings
upside down in mercy
dyed red diversity
rainbows in blood
and new eunuchs
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my mouth is full of winsome lies -
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
I don't mean any offense, but I feel as if you ripped me off here a little Condoms. Maybe unintentionally but all the same...
We both sorta go for similar sex metaphors,
I have a pie-boysenberry tart, you have a crepe
I'm getting the "fructose" on my lips - you're getting the period, which leads to...
Where I use innocence to symbolize breaking the girl, you're just earning your "red wings"
Where I have thrashing like pigs in mud - you have sweet and sour pork?
Just too many metaphorical similarities going on.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Thanks to Xenphire @ Inkfox for the amazing new sig
“Thus strangely are our souls constructed, and by slight ligaments
are we bound to prosperity and ruin.”
― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
They're back
Technicolor has turned black
Their rest disturbed
Well no wonder they're perturbed
Terrorize dear Caroline
Save her before I lose my mind
Evil hauntings all their own
Son of a *****, you only moved the headstones
Moving slowly in the void,
Cautious, but not paranoid,
Shapes begin to fill my eyes,
Building what for my surprise,
Figures dancing far away,
Lost I am, or more today,
Clouds of dust begin to form,
Calling me to leave the norm,
Beings dance in front of me,
Lies and truth is what I see,
Unknown cries pull me apart,
Beating, beating within my heart,
Nothings there but my guide,
Leaving me alone to hide,
Realizing where I was,
Emotions filling in because....
Heaven is what I have said,
This I know because I'm dead.
This is a rather fun exercise. Sorry for the dark piece, but that's where it led me. Time to go read the other pages.
Not one mind could comprehend
Nor the eyes of another see
The dark in which I swim
The blackness at my whim
I know what it could be
The heart of the faint grows dim
And my mind grows weak and dull
I light the stars
To hide the scars
I struggle to maintain control
It moves like in a dream
Keeping wakeful nights, no rest
I feel it fail
A dying wail
The creature within my breast
I am not much for poetry. I used to write some. But not for a while. This thread has given me a place late at night to visit and pour some thought into words. Thanks.
clear ponds' ripples swim slowly
through everything,
even the stationary legs of the pier
my father worked on those many years ago,
and in the winter white icing falls from the sky,
he always used to tell me -
we would sit on the roof and watch nature paint the town,
and i would close my eyes and wonder
if snow was always this peaceful.
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
Blackhawks forever
Suck it hard ev'ryone else
Toews is a boss cap
special thanks to sentimentgx4 for the sig
Pourquoi?
Oh that boysenberry tart
stick my fork into her heart
get that fructose on my lips
the bittersweet of innocence
roll it over behind my tongue
squish between my ring and thumb
all over me the spill of love
thrash around like pigs in mud
two, three, and four times now
'till shes sore from heel to brow
devoured lustily her mess
and followed with a cigarette
by Amory McKeever (IcecreamMan80)
Thanks to Xenphire @ Inkfox for the amazing new sig
“Thus strangely are our souls constructed, and by slight ligaments
are we bound to prosperity and ruin.”
― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
we were pollocks
all signing our names with profanities
painting inanity
west wings and death sings
cut ourselves by heartstrings
and hang up the purse strings
upside down in mercy
dyed red diversity
rainbows in blood
and new eunuchs
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
I put the period on my lips.
Delicious, delicious, the red sea delicacy.
Sweet and sour pork of twitch below, all on my fingers,
show on the flow.
The aftermat, the aftermath.
Hmmmmmm, such a sharp inhale.
Lungs impaled with shards of shale,
I've dumped my scales and finish with my smoke.
We both sorta go for similar sex metaphors,
I have a pie-boysenberry tart, you have a crepe
I'm getting the "fructose" on my lips - you're getting the period, which leads to...
Where I use innocence to symbolize breaking the girl, you're just earning your "red wings"
Where I have thrashing like pigs in mud - you have sweet and sour pork?
Just too many metaphorical similarities going on.
Thanks to Xenphire @ Inkfox for the amazing new sig
“Thus strangely are our souls constructed, and by slight ligaments
are we bound to prosperity and ruin.”
― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
They're back
Technicolor has turned black
Their rest disturbed
Well no wonder they're perturbed
Terrorize dear Caroline
Save her before I lose my mind
Evil hauntings all their own
Son of a *****, you only moved the headstones
Thanks to Xenphire @ Inkfox for the amazing new sig
“Thus strangely are our souls constructed, and by slight ligaments
are we bound to prosperity and ruin.”
― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
suspended
amid the mist.
trapped energy spots,
food for the
celestial body.
we all wait
for our turn
to feed the glow cloud
like pen pencil computer
sometimes prolific
sometimes a neuter
Cautious, but not paranoid,
Shapes begin to fill my eyes,
Building what for my surprise,
Figures dancing far away,
Lost I am, or more today,
Clouds of dust begin to form,
Calling me to leave the norm,
Beings dance in front of me,
Lies and truth is what I see,
Unknown cries pull me apart,
Beating, beating within my heart,
Nothings there but my guide,
Leaving me alone to hide,
Realizing where I was,
Emotions filling in because....
Heaven is what I have said,
This I know because I'm dead.
This is a rather fun exercise. Sorry for the dark piece, but that's where it led me. Time to go read the other pages.
URGEDH Biovisionary.dec BShirei WBSelenia
The brain is the muscle that pumps stupid through the body
A speck of light
Haze in a starry sky
Ashen grey
Bleak
Decks I play:
-Friedrich Nietzsche
Looks like a pulsing...genius
Magnificent...rock
Join the Poetry Running Contest!
Nor the eyes of another see
The dark in which I swim
The blackness at my whim
I know what it could be
The heart of the faint grows dim
And my mind grows weak and dull
I light the stars
To hide the scars
I struggle to maintain control
It moves like in a dream
Keeping wakeful nights, no rest
I feel it fail
A dying wail
The creature within my breast
I am not much for poetry. I used to write some. But not for a while. This thread has given me a place late at night to visit and pour some thought into words. Thanks.