Damn It This Should Have Won

(originally entered in the 'what's life like as an addict competition)

V

I'm so tired i can't breathe.    
Loud knocking, itching, pissing    
on the doors of my memories.    
Repetitive. Unchanging.    
What do you want?    
Well?    
 
Not today, son. Not today.    
 
I embrace the little white dream,    
and wait for the chemical calm    
to warm these homeless    
and collapsing veins.    
Silence. Sinking. Ceiling.    
 
Jagged peaks. Mould.    
The corners unfolded    
with uncertain parallel.    
Flickering between those    
millimetres of indifference.    
Come on, let us fix the edges.    
 
Not today, kid. Not now.    
 
Each day plays out the same scene,    
and i'm so lonely.    
You fuckers still can't leave.    
Eyes glazing.    
Fingers uncurling in the fabric.    
Velveteen.    
Picking at my nails    
with fibrous dysfunction.    
 
Let me love you, son.    
 
There is a deep buzz in my blood.    
A dirty bass pounding,    
beating out a rhythm    
that echoes in my wrists.    
Skin electric. Eyes unswitched.    
Neurotic lullabies.    
 
Lungs.    
 
Calm.  

Three More Bullets

Three more bullets
Left in the gun.
Three more shots,
And then I'm all done.

I hear them shuffling
In the hallway.
Moaning and growling
As they get closer.

Three more bullets
Left in the gun.
Three more shots,
And then I'm all done.

The door is locked
But will not last long.
When they start pounding,
The door will give.

Three more bullets
Left in the gun.
Three more shots,
And then I'm all done.

Heart is pounding,
As they get closer.
I can smell them,
Their horrid stench,
The smell of death.

Three more bullets
Left in the gun.
Three more shots
And then I'm all done.

I place the barrel
To my temple.
I close my eyes,
My finger on the trigger.
I will die on MY terms.

Three more bullets
Left in the gun.
One mere shot,
And I could be all done.

I think of my wife,
My daughter.
How they died,
How horrible it was to watch,
As they were ripped
And torn to pieces.

Three more bullets
Left in the gun.
Three more shots,
And then I'm all done

I think of my son,
How scared he must be,
Alone, without me.
I pull the gun away,
And stare at the door.

Three more bullets,
Left in the gun.
Three more shots,
And then I'm all done.

I decide what to do,
I unlock the door.
I point the gun forward,
And stand there.

Three more bullets,
Left in the gun.
Three more shots,
And then I'm all done.

The first one comes in,
His jaw barely hanging,
His face half gone,
His eyes vacant.
I pull the trigger
And the first shot goes off.

Two more bullets,
Left in the gun.
Two more shots,
And then I'm all done.

The first falls to the floor,
A hole in his forehead.
The second comes in,
Eye socket empty.
It lunges forward,
And I fire again.

One more bullet,
Left in the gun.
One more shot,
And then I'm all done.

The second falls,
Hole for its empty socket.
The third shuffles in,
Larger than the two.
Guts pour from its stomach.
I aim and push the trigger.

No more bullets.
Left in the gun.
All were shot.
Now am I done?

The third falls with a thud,
A fourth and fifth come in.
I charge forward,
Gun held high.
I swing it hard,
Into fourth's temple.

No more bullets
Left in the gun.
All were shot,
But I am not done.

The fourth falls,
As the fifth lunges forward.
He knocks me to the ground,
And grabs my arm.
The fifth sinks his teeth in,
As the fourth stands back up.

No more bullets,
Left in the gun.
All were shot,
But am I done?

I struggle to throw
Fourth and fifth off me.
I think of my son
As I fight hard to survive.
Then I hear the shuffle
Of the others coming.

No more bullets,
Left in the gun.
All were shot,
And now I am done.

They killed me,
Consumed my flesh.
I rise again,
Just like the rest.
I think of my son,
And how good he must taste.

No more bullets,
No more gun.
No more shots,
I will never be done.





Sorry about the length, I just realized how long it is

Cash my last dime
Empty my bank account
Do the maths mentally
This wont yield a large amount
Go aborrowiing
Auction my valuebles
Trade what I have
To get what I dont have
I simply want more
But whether I'll have it or not
That I dont know
Yet I've invested so much
In just a game of chance
Gambling
Scrambling
At the vedge of success
Everything comes crumbling
I count my loses
One by one
Cos the life of a gambler
Is filled with ups and downs

True Art Evokes Emotion

The wreck came to rest in an art museum.
Having signed its John Hancock in rubber
on the asphalt of the interstate,
it kissed two sedans and a sport-ute goodbye
and cut the guardrail like a grand-opening ribbon—
down the ravine, making good use of all six sides
and came to rest with a climactic crunch
on the lawn of the Grounds for Sculpture.

And the patrons crowded round
(as people are wont to do)
until the police gave the wreck its due privacy;
nobody understood why,
since the one who should be embarrassed
was in no state to know it.
Later that day they removed the wreck.

And the onlookers were left to wonder
why the only piece of metal
that caused everyone to hush
             ("I can't believe the way the front is rolled up!")
and speak in awed whispers
             ("What incredible patterns in the glass!")
at the severe craftsmanship of it
             ("You can't even tell where the metal ends and the body begins!")
was the only one not on display;

and why the countless bits of marble and clay
trying so hard to outline the human figure
were left instead of the one piece
that embodied the human limits.

False Accusation


Can you hear the roar of the engine?
The way it shakes the walls and fills you with tension
The smell of sweat always lingering in the air
Everyone passing you by without a care
Clothes as filthy as the bum across you
You have nowhere to stay, what can you do?

Chilled pavement your only protection
Covering the wound of immediate infection
Coughing up blood along these streets
To see a dead child and suffer the repeat
Shameless tears that intrude then fall
Almost giving in to your fated cell walls

Can you envision that scene again?
The bloodied hands of how this began
The deafening silence of a innocent heart beat
The maddening collapse of flesh hitting concrete
Realization glistening through shadowed globes
And pavement pounding from streets to roads

Running from law and rebel alike
Weaving and avoiding very snakelike
Transformed instantly from hunter to prey
The moment you realized the body would slowly decay
Madness revealing that you will be blamed
Becoming the fool who, as always, is framed

Forever the wounded ghost inside of me
Reminding of nightmares that I can only see


I feel it was a bit neglected compared to my other poems though it has alot of meaning.

I am a control subject

I am a control subject,
I know nothing.
There is no way out,
They are feeding me poison and lies.
My life is not real,  
It is all a lie.
They have always been here,
They are always watching.
The brain is the center of all rebellion,
They cannot watch me think.
I am not a person, I am a doll.
Getting out of bed is useless,
I'll never leave this room anyways.
I am surrounded by these bars of black and white,
They seem to be following me.
On the wall, it reads "Break here".
It leads me to a maze,
At the end of the maze is a keyhole,
Which can be unlocked by thoughts.
My brain is the key.
Beyond the door is a tunnel.
A tunnel that leads out to nowhere.
All I see are the bars of black and white.
I am a control subject,
I am a mental patient.

This world is so unfair
And things always go so damn serious
Whatever big thing I do no one cares
All they love is me getting the worse no delirous.

This world is so unfair
In our lines of work no one seems to be feeling us
The bosses the leaders and my home town mayor
Avoid me like vermin no one sticks with us.

This world is so unfair
All I ever thought was right becomes mysterious
U kmow why?somebody somewhere is not fair
Why is this damn world so ridicolus.

This world is so unfair
I got sad facts and hilarous
Well let it be but I swear
Im going to do it firacicous.

This world is so unfair
But I dont mind since im curios
Ill make one decision so rare
Then all who despise me will end up furios.

They want beyond which I cant offer
Im in this life arena suffering like a soldier
After this that which is dangerous rolls up
And kicks my life dead like Im in a comma.


No love for me its clearly over
Animals around hurt me in order
Living to my expectations its no longer
I guess they will never call me stronger.


It doesnt kill me coz Im Goldberg
Hate me love me u are off my shoulders
Talk bad put it tough on ya
I repeat I dont care if are a grown up.

Its time for my nightmares to make me a strong man
Flying colors thats the option to foster
No second solutions I go hard and I flow smart
Damn! All the problems I will only get sober.

I face nightmares but I will never say holla
Always making moments coz Im not a toddler
Ever feeling good enemies wont make me softer
Im a king and I deserve to shine and blow up.

JAITO the rules are only one entry per person. Which one of these do you want to keep in the competition?

Bonfire of the Tragedies

Flipping through this comic book,  
I remember how badly I wanted to be a superhero
I could have stopped him from beating my mom
and beating me.
Or at least been able to shrug it all off and say to him  
“Hitting us doesn’t make you strong.”
 
There was a long silence
He took a swig of his beer
And threw the comic book into the bonfire
I didn’t know what to say to him
I couldn’t relate
My dad was never around to hit me

Two years

I write for you
as if you were my ampersand,
a thin string between
sane & insane.

i know
that i havent earned the redemption
that i write towards
until rubbed raw

but i know damned well
that i own the right
to say damned.

Well,
this bed ive made
and now lie in

should be a feast
or at the very least
fodder,

for more than just a fanciful frame
around a flame
that has more than earned
its burn

i wish i deserved words like love
or even lust
but no
   only
       loss

and sunk deep in this admittance
ill quick cling to my prize
as beautiful as
sedition        

so now i have to run
    run rampant
    run amok
    run from myself

god knows
ive earned that cliche

I put this one in for a love poem competition, this was the brief - It is really difficult to write a good love poem.  So many people attempt to write them they become cheesy and repetitive. So here is the challenge, write an original creative love poem, try to make it clear and concise.  It can be about loving somebody in a romantic fashion, or the love of a child, I don’t care if it is a love with a dark twist or just sweet adoration.  

The sun is making your skin
Warm to my touch. Lying on grass
Your head in my lap, wrapped safe
In my arms. I'm so happy.
I can't remember bliss like this.
 
We kiss, talk a little. But
For the most part, we're happy
Just in silence. It's enough
To be with you here in the sunshine.
I love you. I love you.

“Oh mother, there are bright lights
in the night sky
but I thought this only happened
at the forth of July?”

oh child, my love,
they light up for you
for freedom is costly,
and its payment is due

“oh mother, what’s this?
It is such a beautiful red
and it runs like a river
from that sleeping mans head”

oh child, my love,
it runs just for you
find in it peace
for your life so brand new

“Oh mother, come look!
The children are dying
And I cant find a reason
as to why there not crying”

Oh child, my love,
with tears come regret
Learn as they do and ur
heart is well met

“oh mother please save me!
The darkness is coming…
the pain is to great…
and my legs have stopped running”

oh child, my love…
the darkness is kind
its all that can save u…
.its all that is mine…

“oh mother…it is hurting,
please let me go…
your hands are so strong…
my neck isn’t so…”

dear child, my love,
don’t fight, its ok
I thought I could save you…
the world made me sway
you will be home soon,
and there u cant hurt
For the darkness protects u…
the gravel and dirt…
It shouldn’t be like this…
but life’s true bequeath
that carries the name of life,
in reality, is death…

kourtnissixxx said:False Accusation


Can you hear the roar of the engine?
The way it shakes the walls and fills you with tension
The smell of sweat always lingering in the air
Everyone passing you by without a care
Clothes as filthy as the bum across you
You have nowhere to stay, what can you do?

Chilled pavement your only protection
Covering the wound of immediate infection
Coughing up blood along these streets
To see a dead child and suffer the repeat
Shameless tears that intrude then fall
Almost giving in to your fated cell walls

Can you envision that scene again?
The bloodied hands of how this began
The deafening silence of a innocent heart beat
The maddening collapse of flesh hitting concrete
Realization glistening through shadowed globes
And pavement pounding from streets to roads

Running from law and rebel alike
Weaving and avoiding very snakelike
Transformed instantly from hunter to prey
The moment you realized the body would slowly decay
Madness revealing that you will be blamed
Becoming the fool who, as always, is framed

Forever the wounded ghost inside of me
Reminding of nightmares that I can only see


I feel it was a bit neglected compared to my other poems though it has alot of meaning.

"forever the wounded ghost inside of me
reminding of nightmares that only i can see"

beautiful...