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
My secret is blatant; my motive is time
Remaining aloft? But a matter of stride.
Momentum's salvation; to let me survive
Pacing yet racing, running circles 'round life.
In sunlight–bitten, tremulous rainfall:
Grey innocence and overwrought sorrow.
The blur between romancers is cluttered
With subtle undertones of frantic tears.
Laying in bed,
Emotionally dead
Worn from the every day grind
Flowing thoughts not so kind
Tick tock and its time
You hardly got to unwind
But it's back to the mix of things
Another day in mundane monotony
It's a tortuous lobotomy
Test rats in a suicidal laboratory
Only ever wanting a way out
Banging fists against the walls
Time again for the daily rage and shout
You call loud and proud
But no one answers
Not a bird in sight will listen to your silly babble
Another day and you'll go insane
You've said it for two years now
"Just wait till I escape"
Skulls are just rubber walls
Your pinball ricochets and rings up the points
Lights and sounds regurgitate and the music plays
How many times will you score in different ways?
Your eyes roll back and your home again
No recall of clocking out
You wonder if your time card is wrong before you fall down
You're spinning fast down the slide,
It's a spiral
Sleep hits you harder than destinations post walkin the green mile
This one is hard to call, will you wake up?
Your chin hits the floor as you fall out the chair
Now it's clear, you're still there
You never punched out because you never left
Confusion at it's best
Tricking you again, whose he tryin to impress?
Go home kid, you're delirious
Minds gone nasty mysterious
You're sick, I'm serious
Your behavior is becomin deleterious
Take a chill pill and stop the fuss
Get lost before you bust
Cold and empty, my selfish girl
You use to be my ocean's pearl
Your smile that sailed me `cross the sea
faded- and sank the love in me
through somber eyes, the tears you've shed
They rose the tides and ceased its ebb
the moon watched on, and down below
her heart was tossed, as I tried to row
A tragic shipwreck, that love of mine
Once, such a beauty, decayed with time
But I know she's awaits atop the sea floor
My porcelain enchantment, alone once more
One day I swear I'll take that plunge
Below the coral and the ocean sponge
To find my love, my treasure awaits
With only a North Star, and a little fate.
I took the first stanza from it, because it's strong enough to be in there.
Osun is a Yoruba deity of the Sea and the Waterfalls, worshipped by many in Brazil.
Not that I am a believer myself, but I really appreciate the mysteries and myths of my own birth-land, and wanted to share.
His parents got split
His mom just won't quit
She wanted everything so she uses him to get it
She wants child support
But in the end it's all whack
She sees him as a way to extrort his dad for some cash
She smokes and she drinks
She's f***ed like ten dudes
Everything he does makes her spit out something crude
He lets his mouth run,
But can't figure out why
The other kids in school won't even stop and say 'hi'
His nanny just hates him,
He's a living disgrace
One time she threw a pb&j at his face
His grades are just crap
His dad knows it too
He just wants to run away, but he can't hide from the truth
It's a war from two fronts
And there ain't no retreat
He's got no friends to turn to when he suffers defeat
So he learns to read books
To him they're escapes
For once he's got something that's not sick of his face
So he lives on his life,...
He gets a retry
New school, new kids; they don't look like they'd beat him up for his fries
His grades; they pick up
It's like a new deal
The best thing? These new kids... they just so real
They smile with their eyes
They help him out, too
Finally, he's done it: Started anew.
And yes, I know the rythm is terrible for this one. Stay tuned for something better.
put bullets into silicon
and feelings into plastic,
hilarious and spastic,
just slip the laughter on
and faint a little faint for me
so much anxiety and torture.
outclass all your living horrors!
dream a little eldritch dream -
it's much more comfortable alone.
scary, daft, but that's the /purpose/.
sleep with visions of the surface;
you won't live until you are your own.
the twelfth night just a put-on!
such old visions, lived in daydreams.
just drunk passerby in function,
i fell in love with the corruption.
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
1. In having preferred diversion and hunting to poetry. The half-learned laugh at it, and glory in being above the folly of the world; but the people are right for a reason which these do not fathom.
2. In having distinguished men by external marks, as birth or wealth. The world again exults in showing how unreasonable this is; but it is very reasonable. Savages laugh at an infant king.
3. In being offended at a blow, or in desiring glory so much. But it is very desirable on account of the other essential goods which are joined to it; and a man who has received a blow, without resenting it, is overwhelmed with taunts and indignities.
4. In working for the uncertain; in sailing on the sea; in walking over a plank.
Puppeteers and Puppet Masters
Strings fall slowly, dolls spin faster
Fall. Fall. Little Doll
Listen close to the one who calls.
He'll string you up and dress you, miss.
And when he's done, trap you with a kiss
You're trapped now, you poor poor thing
You listened to what he had to sing.
Drawn in by song and then thrown around
Transformed by him without a sound
Scream all you want, nobody will hear
Your voice is controlled, it's him that you fear
Your master is waiting, he's coming for you
Take you off the shelf, make you do what you do
Your arms grow limp and your legs get weak
The look in your eyes says that you cannot speak
He comes up to you and brings you to the table
And struggle you try, but are not able.
Your hands get strings and your joints get nails
body is stiff and your breathing fails
Your mind is present and your vision is clear
But you can't move, and you start to hear
"Little Girl, Little Girl, now you are mine
Just be real still, and i'll string you up fine.
It's not so bad, you'll get used to it soon.
You'll join the others inside of my room"
Your skin becomes hard, your smile is plastered,
Your are now victim to the Puppet Master.
the city streets love baseball,
And the drunk drivers vote for liberty,
So we let them ahead of the line,
past the scumbag communist corpses
on street corners wishing no one could
drive
Life is too complicated.
Words can't describe
the turmoil inside.
Laid bare in a list
it all seems so simple:
find a job,
follow dreams,
live below your means.
But what those words
don't describe, is the how.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I make words using things
like pen pencil computer
sometimes prolific
sometimes a neuter
I must have sinned in the last life,
because I'm wallowing now that karma's caught up
since your fate is not here, entwined with mine
what must I have done a lifetime ago,
to have lost the warmth of your companionship
in the clutches of frugality, society and superficiality
whether it's this period of existence
or the next
or even the one after
could I not foresee losing your support
so maybe that I'm too sentimental
or perhaps a little bit dazed
when it comes to all things relating to you
and all things related to me,
I could have done without
if it meant not having said "enjoy the rest of your days"
knowing full well that I wouldn't be in it
especially now, that later has come
you've already moved on
and I'm wondering why
I didn't apologize when it mattered.
When you weave the night basin
Refrain your assumed dignity
Don't you dare to douse my fierce grit
Because I need my hands clean
In Fahrenheit
Condolences are for the weak of mind
You owe me a plumber
To pour out the obscene
And I'm not getting any closer
To the scenes of brutality
Tortoises swallowing sibutramine
From the faucet to misery.
That's when I decontextualize
What should I recognize next?
My nails were ripped off
But I'm not turning my back again
Must I roll some stones?
To the pleasure of a fallen God
Frightened to death
A parabolic-ray emitting device
Is what I least expect
Theseus in contact with fire
Where the spirit burns the brightest
Leaving a faint smell of thyme and gin
And a haphazard noise bursting tympani.
words
drip like water drops
down
my arm
to my pen
but evaporate
unwritten
like pen pencil computer
sometimes prolific
sometimes a neuter
Join the Poetry Running Contest!
You swear to God?
Have you gotten a reply?
Has he forgiven you,
Since you confessed to him your lie?
Have the heavenly gates departed,
and graced you right on in?
Because as I see you now,
You're still, blissfully wallowing in sin.
So the hate in your words
simply; magically, disappeared?
Come now, be honest
Aren't I all the things you feared?
Do you expect us to believe,
now given this unlucky coincidence,
Your views of this world
have changed in just one pleading sentence?
Its so very inconvenient,
That you fashion me the devil,
But at least i will confess,
In your death, i will greatly revel.
You swear to God?
I can't seem to hear a reply
It's very unfortunate for you,
No one else will see you die.
http://kersmtgalters.deviantart.com/
To buy some of my alters check out my ebay page and add me to your favorites here:http://myworld.ebay.com/queen_gothica13?_trksid=p2047675.l2559
so used to dirt
that you don't know
how air tastes
dig deep to pause
and let life pass
too scary
let me pretend
to be alive
and i won't
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
Holding my tongue
While listening to a duck
I accidentally tripped on
My own rock
And when the guy is ready to rock
While others stab back
Refreshing addictions
Creating curves of pure lick
Seeming unfit
It was cut
Famine and lung
A throbbing sensation, highly strung.
special thanks to sentimentgx4 for the sig
Pourquoi?
My secret is blatant; my motive is time
Remaining aloft? But a matter of stride.
Momentum's salvation; to let me survive
Pacing yet racing, running circles 'round life.
Of deflowered dreams and the destinies undesired
Detritus of a past life
Not yet escaped-
And following the blind
Rays of now shifted
stars
Clearing out the cracks
And the crevices
To make way for new trash
And new rubble
And new mistakes
And new sin
And the floor peeks through
The mess like the sun
Peers through the cresting
Of a wave-
Shining off of its pollutants
And dancing in its dirty
Sifting through transient, muddled memories.
Join the Poetry Running Contest!
Who wouldn't want to be
a needle or a knife
with purpose laid out
in a users manual
and what's the point
would be a simple question of anatomy
like pen pencil computer
sometimes prolific
sometimes a neuter
cast away into the world of a book
curled up in my warm little nook
I awoke to the sound of you sleeping
____in the middle of the night
laying on the bed.
You were a beached whale on a shore.
____Your eyes, though closed,
looked like small cups emptied,
then filled with the same color
____as the clouds you find
in the mist, or fog, or slow
days of rain you’d see
____in a place such as a city
with no people.
They’ve seen everything of me,
____and I could feel them
reminisce
a memory of my infant self,
____crying for no reason.
Join the Poetry Running Contest!
Laying in bed,
Emotionally dead
Worn from the every day grind
Flowing thoughts not so kind
Tick tock and its time
You hardly got to unwind
But it's back to the mix of things
Another day in mundane monotony
It's a tortuous lobotomy
Test rats in a suicidal laboratory
Only ever wanting a way out
Banging fists against the walls
Time again for the daily rage and shout
You call loud and proud
But no one answers
Not a bird in sight will listen to your silly babble
Another day and you'll go insane
You've said it for two years now
"Just wait till I escape"
Skulls are just rubber walls
Your pinball ricochets and rings up the points
Lights and sounds regurgitate and the music plays
How many times will you score in different ways?
Your eyes roll back and your home again
No recall of clocking out
You wonder if your time card is wrong before you fall down
You're spinning fast down the slide,
It's a spiral
Sleep hits you harder than destinations post walkin the green mile
This one is hard to call, will you wake up?
Your chin hits the floor as you fall out the chair
Now it's clear, you're still there
You never punched out because you never left
Confusion at it's best
Tricking you again, whose he tryin to impress?
Go home kid, you're delirious
Minds gone nasty mysterious
You're sick, I'm serious
Your behavior is becomin deleterious
Take a chill pill and stop the fuss
Get lost before you bust
Cold and empty, my selfish girl
You use to be my ocean's pearl
Your smile that sailed me `cross the sea
faded- and sank the love in me
through somber eyes, the tears you've shed
They rose the tides and ceased its ebb
the moon watched on, and down below
her heart was tossed, as I tried to row
A tragic shipwreck, that love of mine
Once, such a beauty, decayed with time
But I know she's awaits atop the sea floor
My porcelain enchantment, alone once more
One day I swear I'll take that plunge
Below the coral and the ocean sponge
To find my love, my treasure awaits
With only a North Star, and a little fate.
http://kersmtgalters.deviantart.com/
To buy some of my alters check out my ebay page and add me to your favorites here:http://myworld.ebay.com/queen_gothica13?_trksid=p2047675.l2559
Nhem-nhem-nhem, xorodô.
É o mar, é o mar
Fé fé, xorodô.
She was a queen
With the mirror at her right hand
In which she would always
Look at herself
Gaily dressed in ribbons and gold
Clad in flowers, born of the sea
É o mar, fefé xorodô.
Bring a wreath of roses
Under the waterfall
Is where Osun lies
Weeping night and day
Looking after us all.
For those who are in trouble trying to mentally vocalize the first stanza, listen to this at youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Of-VKM2iuOQ
I took the first stanza from it, because it's strong enough to be in there.
Osun is a Yoruba deity of the Sea and the Waterfalls, worshipped by many in Brazil.
Not that I am a believer myself, but I really appreciate the mysteries and myths of my own birth-land, and wanted to share.
special thanks to sentimentgx4 for the sig
Pourquoi?
I'm damaged,
Like that can with a dent
In the back of the aisle
Thinking someone will buy me,
As if my life is worthwhile
As if I'm not in denial
And I'll continue to collect dust,
I'll sit on the shelf
Until finally,
I'll reach my expiry.
My Mafia Stats - My Helpdesk
G Omnath, Locus of Mana U Arcum Dagsson BUG The Mimeoplasm GW Gaddock Teeg X Karn, Silver Golem
His parents got split
His mom just won't quit
She wanted everything so she uses him to get it
She wants child support
But in the end it's all whack
She sees him as a way to extrort his dad for some cash
She smokes and she drinks
She's f***ed like ten dudes
Everything he does makes her spit out something crude
He lets his mouth run,
But can't figure out why
The other kids in school won't even stop and say 'hi'
His nanny just hates him,
He's a living disgrace
One time she threw a pb&j at his face
His grades are just crap
His dad knows it too
He just wants to run away, but he can't hide from the truth
It's a war from two fronts
And there ain't no retreat
He's got no friends to turn to when he suffers defeat
So he learns to read books
To him they're escapes
For once he's got something that's not sick of his face
So he lives on his life,...
He gets a retry
New school, new kids; they don't look like they'd beat him up for his fries
His grades; they pick up
It's like a new deal
The best thing? These new kids... they just so real
They smile with their eyes
They help him out, too
Finally, he's done it: Started anew.
put bullets into silicon
and feelings into plastic,
hilarious and spastic,
just slip the laughter on
and faint a little faint for me
so much anxiety and torture.
outclass all your living horrors!
dream a little eldritch dream -
it's much more comfortable alone.
scary, daft, but that's the /purpose/.
sleep with visions of the surface;
you won't live until you are your own.
the twelfth night just a put-on!
such old visions, lived in daydreams.
just drunk passerby in function,
i fell in love with the corruption.
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
People Have Very Sound Opinions
for example:
1. In having preferred diversion and hunting to poetry. The half-learned laugh at it, and glory in being above the folly of the world; but the people are right for a reason which these do not fathom.
2. In having distinguished men by external marks, as birth or wealth. The world again exults in showing how unreasonable this is; but it is very reasonable. Savages laugh at an infant king.
3. In being offended at a blow, or in desiring glory so much. But it is very desirable on account of the other essential goods which are joined to it; and a man who has received a blow, without resenting it, is overwhelmed with taunts and indignities.
4. In working for the uncertain; in sailing on the sea; in walking over a plank.
Strings fall slowly, dolls spin faster
Fall. Fall. Little Doll
Listen close to the one who calls.
He'll string you up and dress you, miss.
And when he's done, trap you with a kiss
You're trapped now, you poor poor thing
You listened to what he had to sing.
Drawn in by song and then thrown around
Transformed by him without a sound
Scream all you want, nobody will hear
Your voice is controlled, it's him that you fear
Your master is waiting, he's coming for you
Take you off the shelf, make you do what you do
Your arms grow limp and your legs get weak
The look in your eyes says that you cannot speak
He comes up to you and brings you to the table
And struggle you try, but are not able.
Your hands get strings and your joints get nails
body is stiff and your breathing fails
Your mind is present and your vision is clear
But you can't move, and you start to hear
"Little Girl, Little Girl, now you are mine
Just be real still, and i'll string you up fine.
It's not so bad, you'll get used to it soon.
You'll join the others inside of my room"
Your skin becomes hard, your smile is plastered,
Your are now victim to the Puppet Master.
And the drunk drivers vote for liberty,
So we let them ahead of the line,
past the scumbag communist corpses
on street corners wishing no one could
drive
Join the Poetry Running Contest!
Life is too complicated.
Words can't describe
the turmoil inside.
Laid bare in a list
it all seems so simple:
find a job,
follow dreams,
live below your means.
But what those words
don't describe, is the how.
like pen pencil computer
sometimes prolific
sometimes a neuter
Submissions for PRC Round 211 are now closed, good luck, and I hope to see you all again for round 212
Join the Poetry Running Contest!
I must have sinned in the last life,
because I'm wallowing now that karma's caught up
since your fate is not here, entwined with mine
what must I have done a lifetime ago,
to have lost the warmth of your companionship
in the clutches of frugality, society and superficiality
whether it's this period of existence
or the next
or even the one after
could I not foresee losing your support
so maybe that I'm too sentimental
or perhaps a little bit dazed
when it comes to all things relating to you
and all things related to me,
I could have done without
if it meant not having said "enjoy the rest of your days"
knowing full well that I wouldn't be in it
especially now, that later has come
you've already moved on
and I'm wondering why
I didn't apologize when it mattered.
Here are my verses for this week.
Clogged Pipes
When you weave the night basin
Refrain your assumed dignity
Don't you dare to douse my fierce grit
Because I need my hands clean
In Fahrenheit
Condolences are for the weak of mind
You owe me a plumber
To pour out the obscene
And I'm not getting any closer
To the scenes of brutality
Tortoises swallowing sibutramine
From the faucet to misery.
That's when I decontextualize
What should I recognize next?
My nails were ripped off
But I'm not turning my back again
Must I roll some stones?
To the pleasure of a fallen God
Frightened to death
A parabolic-ray emitting device
Is what I least expect
Theseus in contact with fire
Where the spirit burns the brightest
Leaving a faint smell of thyme and gin
And a haphazard noise bursting tympani.
special thanks to sentimentgx4 for the sig
Pourquoi?