i am sorry my old friend
stuff
i found a new form of communication
waking daydream
ghost of her embrace
lines that dissipate
i did not mean to abandon you
i do not mean to abandon you
but i am good at forgetting
I made a ghost of you
from the doll of cerberus
left on my bed, the socks
you’ve given me, unwashed
sheets, and pillows
with locks of your hair
still remaining. At night,
I feel you breathe
through the heaving
of my lungs; I hear
the steps of your pace
through measures of mine
as I chase shadows
on the track, alone.
Among the quiet darkness
there is a void, growing
within the visible body, and I
try to feed it with essences
of you. Each day
though, I wake up
earlier than before, laughing
at times in your place, speaking
on your behalf, your praises
and blames. Soon,
the silence will learn your voice,
and I'll have to forego this ritual
before I forget my name,
and not know you
anymore.
(I'm just going to assume someone will fire the next round before the heat death of the universe)
----------
there is a button I can press.
when pressed, it does the oddest thing:
it turns my insides into maggots
each bone and muscle and sinew
each nerve and vein and node and cell
each one of them a wriggling maggot
ten-thousands of these pale larvae
squirm over, under, back, and forth;
a pile of anxious, hungry maggots
but that, good friend, does scare me not:
no more ill will is borne to me
than to the carcass of a pig,
or to neglected apples’ rot—
we find ourselves alike in that
beneath the undiscerning maggots
what frightens me, you understand,
is that I look within myself
and fail to see a single maggot
my eyes spot one and capture it,
but then they blink and lose it as
it crawls beneath the mass of maggots
ten-thousands of these pale larvae
identical in every way.
friend, that’s what scares me of these maggots.
and so you ask me now, dear friend,
“why do you keep the button?”
indeed, you know I’m not the sort
for sentiment, or folly.
you see, I’ve found the oddest thing
when pondering the button;
my finger floating over it,
awaiting whims to press it.
good friend, I’ve found my soul is trapped
within this curs-ed button.
by magic, witchcraft, sorcery,
cruel twists of fate or karma—
I’ve found myself become a lich,
my spirit bound to nothing.
i am sorry my old friend
stuff
i found a new form of communication
waking daydream
ghost of her embrace
lines that dissipate
i did not mean to abandon you
i do not mean to abandon you
but i am good at forgetting
They had us open
Our great; old; mirrored cookbooks-
And then "solve for X."
They had us swallow
The Cocks of "King and Country"
That we might taste Christ.
They had us Thank God
For the "sweet and merciful"
Rape of heathen souls.
They had us crawl on
Hands and Knees and Egos on
"The hot coals of Love."
They had us judged and
Found our Hearts wanting before
"The hot coals of Love."
They had us swear oaths
That we would sanctify our
Bleeding on "Art's" Cross.
They had us blink back
The tears of Abraham for
The cause of "beauty."
They had us sharpen
Stakes and live without our lives-
And then "solve for X."
Join the Poetry Running Contest!
I made a ghost of you
from the doll of cerberus
left on my bed, the socks
you’ve given me, unwashed
sheets, and pillows
with locks of your hair
still remaining. At night,
I feel you breathe
through the heaving
of my lungs; I hear
the steps of your pace
through measures of mine
as I chase shadows
on the track, alone.
Among the quiet darkness
there is a void, growing
within the visible body, and I
try to feed it with essences
of you. Each day
though, I wake up
earlier than before, laughing
at times in your place, speaking
on your behalf, your praises
and blames. Soon,
the silence will learn your voice,
and I'll have to forego this ritual
before I forget my name,
and not know you
anymore.
My best friend fell asleep.
I pray that he can hear us,
But his coma's rather deep.
Your smiles make him mutter,
And your hugs can make him move.
His life is in your hands,
As these reactions prove.
"I'm yours" would resurrect him,
If only you would try.
And if you never say it,
I fear that he will die.
I know he can get better,
You're here and he's alive.
Now I await your move, my love.
Please let my friend survive.
And if I must wait longer,
Put me to sleep instead.
But if I'd wait forever,
I'd rather just be dead.
----------
there is a button I can press.
when pressed, it does the oddest thing:
it turns my insides into maggots
each bone and muscle and sinew
each nerve and vein and node and cell
each one of them a wriggling maggot
ten-thousands of these pale larvae
squirm over, under, back, and forth;
a pile of anxious, hungry maggots
but that, good friend, does scare me not:
no more ill will is borne to me
than to the carcass of a pig,
or to neglected apples’ rot—
we find ourselves alike in that
beneath the undiscerning maggots
what frightens me, you understand,
is that I look within myself
and fail to see a single maggot
my eyes spot one and capture it,
but then they blink and lose it as
it crawls beneath the mass of maggots
ten-thousands of these pale larvae
identical in every way.
friend, that’s what scares me of these maggots.
and so you ask me now, dear friend,
“why do you keep the button?”
indeed, you know I’m not the sort
for sentiment, or folly.
you see, I’ve found the oddest thing
when pondering the button;
my finger floating over it,
awaiting whims to press it.
good friend, I’ve found my soul is trapped
within this curs-ed button.
by magic, witchcraft, sorcery,
cruel twists of fate or karma—
I’ve found myself become a lich,
my spirit bound to nothing.
She packs up her life in her boxes.
She packs up our life in her boxes.
Her boxes our gone.
BGStandard Green AggroGB
UWRGModern Saheeli CobraGRWU
UBRGLegacy StormGRBU
Wizards Certified Rules Advisor
A stiff and unforgiving wind,
blew through the meadow with a roar.
And swept the earth beneath it’s feet
while tearing through the greenery.
I stood erect, intent on grit.
To face the unforgiving wind.
Its force could not have hold on me,
I would not yield, I would not yield.
The wind however did not cease,
and gradually it weakened me.
Reluctantly, I have to quit.
My body simply must submit.
And get swept by the unforgiving wind.
My Mafia Stats - My Helpdesk
G Omnath, Locus of Mana U Arcum Dagsson BUG The Mimeoplasm GW Gaddock Teeg X Karn, Silver Golem
My Mafia Stats - My Helpdesk
G Omnath, Locus of Mana U Arcum Dagsson BUG The Mimeoplasm GW Gaddock Teeg X Karn, Silver Golem