Poetry competition CLOSED 24th May 2016 5:57pm
WINNER
_shadoe_ (yiyi)
_shadoe_ (yiyi)
RUNNER-UP:
crimsin
Let your mind run wild!
Lycanthropy
we have evolved
we don't need the moon to transform
but the pain hasn't resolved
that blistering sting
in the bottom of my spine
spreading like million needles
bulged veins in a root pattern
each hair piercing the skin
one after another
broken jaw, torn skin
the cracks in my face
forming the shape
swelled veins run to arms and legs
bursting out the nails, scattering blood
like a fucked up massacre
I'm the nastiest amongst us
I taste my fingers
eyes burn
flame remain
I scream to that
unbearable pain
AhhhhhhWoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
resonance chorusing
the howls of the pack
am covered in
the fur coat
looking down from
a parapet
.
we have evolved
we don't need the moon to transform
but the pain hasn't resolved
that blistering sting
in the bottom of my spine
spreading like million needles
bulged veins in a root pattern
each hair piercing the skin
one after another
broken jaw, torn skin
the cracks in my face
forming the shape
swelled veins run to arms and legs
bursting out the nails, scattering blood
like a fucked up massacre
I'm the nastiest amongst us
I taste my fingers
eyes burn
flame remain
I scream to that
unbearable pain
AhhhhhhWoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
resonance chorusing
the howls of the pack
am covered in
the fur coat
looking down from
a parapet
.
You, I and She
- PART ONE -
This tale is a warning, about a vice and its woe,
Of the lesson I learnt, and the ones yet to know.
See, the end is unwritten, might be my final farewell,
To the good and the bad, to the heaven and hell.
But the tale should be told, and so I’ll commence,
I’ll be open and honest and try not cause offence.
The whole story started less than eighteen months ago,
With me overweight, out-of-shape and my self-esteem low.
I was awkward and sad but was so sick of my lot,
I’d work out to get thin; it was no novel plot.
But this time I did it. Lost the kilos: twenty-three,
An aesthetic success! But a shock lay waiting for me.
What I discovered to my horror, when the fat had all gone,
It wasn’t why I’d been unhappy, I’d been mistaken all along.
When you can’t blame the depression on the layers of fat.
Scapegoat’s gone, veil’s been lifted – now its time to face facts.
I had hated myself. For which, there’s no easy cure.
But I'd never have guessed what I was about to endure.
- PART TWO -
My grim realisation was not as clear as it is now
It’s taken time and reflection to solve the why and how
So superficial I was that the weight-loss pleased me,
My new body confidence brought me much glee.
It took a short step in learning that when building your self-worth up,
Needn't do it yourself, if others will do it - you're in luck.
The more notches you make, the more of them like you,
Each stamp of approval means you’re worth something too.
But this trick doesn’t work, it’s short shrift at best,
Such validation’s unstable and needs constant redress
All that matters in this system is that they want you,
No connection required, don't need your desire too.
Soon I became an object, a thing merely of which you approve,
Such validation is addictive, it begins to consume you.
This game is never over, the self-worth is never won,
For approval this fleeting, this shallow has soon gone.
Your entire self-worth crashes right down to the ground,
By one mild-mannered rejection, a snide comment or frown.
It soon left me quite hollow, couldn’t have liked myself less,
How could finding some comfort possibly worsen this mess?
But hand in hand with this issue - there's a darker reveal,
A vice with such danger, it barely seems real.
- PART THREE -
I sought solace in drugs, to liven my day,
It didn’t take long ‘til my life went astray.
In order to find out how this all came to be,
I’ll need you to understand 'her' grip over me.
So allow me to introduce a few "friends" of mine
If you greet them but once, then you’ll find them divine.
There’s Mandy and Katie, and the one just called "G",
And last but not least, is Tina you see.
The last one of these has a much darker side,
Deep down she’s evil, she'll eat you alive.
Or better yet still, she'll have you do it yourself,
You'll follow her whispers, and you’ll ruin your health.
At first you'll be fine and you'll tell yourself so,
But Tina works quickly, there's not long to go.
You’ll chomp and you’ll chew, you’ll pick and you’ll scratch
You’ll end up a shell, that’s Tina’s one catch.
Other than that she’s perfectly fine,
You’ll fall apart slowly, one piece at a time.
And then there’s the psychosis - well that’s just a treat,
When the shadows start watching you walk down the street.
I swear that that singer is writing songs about me,
Wait, what’s that you’re hiding? Don’t lie, I can see.
Still, there’s nothing quite like puffing clouds all the time,
Till five days, no sleep and I’ve started writing in rhyme.
Haven’t eaten for days, the fat’s no problem now,
My ribs start protruding, face is gaunt - but how?
I had the whole thing in hand, it was just once a week,
There’s just one final shard left, I can't help but freak
The story gets worse, believe you and me,
When Tina’s got hold there’s no getting free
The minute you try to stop smoking shard,
Full depression sets in and you crash way too hard.
If she can’t get you using then coming off it, she will,
"All the pain will soon stop" T whispers, "if you'd just pop that pill"
But the downers don’t work, Tina makes sure that’s a fact,
She’s not done with you yet, she'll first get you the sack.
You’ve got no money now, so you start helping her out,
You start selling her round ‘cause your fix was in doubt.
But look what you've done! You’ve passed her along,
You know what will happen and know full well it’s wrong.
But this was my fate, and so you will see,
There isn’t much left of a discernible me.
It’s too late for me now, too much of me's gone.
Nobody’s left here to save, if there ever was one.
But Wait! Hold up! Hang on just a sec…
It isn’t quite over, that bitch hasn't won yet.
I had forgotten that feeling, that desire to fight back,
The anger inside that builds you up to attack.
I’m starting to remember someone I used to be,
I was weak but tenacious; few others best me.
My resources are depleted and psychosis settled in,
It’s hard to stay sane when your mind's wearing thin.
It’s important that I know I'm not beaten yet,
Got some tricks up my sleeve, that bitch won't ever forget.
- PART FOUR -
Well, what happens next? I’m sure you’re dying to know
The middle is all done with, just the ending to go.
Now – don’t get frustrated but I just can’t tell you the rest,
I don’t know how it ends, I'm still living it - I confess.
Can't predict what will happen, perhaps there's one guess I can,
It won’t end with a fizzle. It will end with a bang.
Right now I’m alone, lost - no clear path in sight,
The state that I’m in, would give anyone a fright.
If all other attempts fail, then only one end is left,
Say it's the easy way out, you call me selfish to choose death.
- PART FIVE -
I was lost before I met her and even before that,
Had not a shred of self-worth, not even a scrap.
It was taken from me, before I even knew,
I was made to believe that somehow I needed you.
Tried so hard to fit in, to obey all of the rules,
To alter myself so I'd be liked by you fools.
I eroded away at the person I could've been.
By tempering myself down, so the real me went unseen.
All of my focus, my time and energy were spent,
While playing the role that you wanted, the 'real me' just went.
When I finally stopped caring about your version of me,
There was nothing else left there, no person I could be.
So I died long ago, certainly anything that was worth saving.
You know that person isn't real, don't you? The one that you’re craving.
The impersonation I laid on, worked more than it should,
Since it made all you like me more than I ever could.
So, how dare you remark callously on my final end?!
You've have said quite enough; my wounds cannot mend.
The blame must be pointed at one of us, three.
One must be the culprit but is it You, I or She?
It's funny that now is the time of all times, that I find
The root of the problem was not me and my mind.
No solution gleaned from this, can't go back to the past.
There’s only the future ahead and I’m not sure I’ll last.
I'm not giving up yet, I won’t just accept such a fate,
With some luck and some willing, I won’t have left it too late...
- PART ONE -
This tale is a warning, about a vice and its woe,
Of the lesson I learnt, and the ones yet to know.
See, the end is unwritten, might be my final farewell,
To the good and the bad, to the heaven and hell.
But the tale should be told, and so I’ll commence,
I’ll be open and honest and try not cause offence.
The whole story started less than eighteen months ago,
With me overweight, out-of-shape and my self-esteem low.
I was awkward and sad but was so sick of my lot,
I’d work out to get thin; it was no novel plot.
But this time I did it. Lost the kilos: twenty-three,
An aesthetic success! But a shock lay waiting for me.
What I discovered to my horror, when the fat had all gone,
It wasn’t why I’d been unhappy, I’d been mistaken all along.
When you can’t blame the depression on the layers of fat.
Scapegoat’s gone, veil’s been lifted – now its time to face facts.
I had hated myself. For which, there’s no easy cure.
But I'd never have guessed what I was about to endure.
- PART TWO -
My grim realisation was not as clear as it is now
It’s taken time and reflection to solve the why and how
So superficial I was that the weight-loss pleased me,
My new body confidence brought me much glee.
It took a short step in learning that when building your self-worth up,
Needn't do it yourself, if others will do it - you're in luck.
The more notches you make, the more of them like you,
Each stamp of approval means you’re worth something too.
But this trick doesn’t work, it’s short shrift at best,
Such validation’s unstable and needs constant redress
All that matters in this system is that they want you,
No connection required, don't need your desire too.
Soon I became an object, a thing merely of which you approve,
Such validation is addictive, it begins to consume you.
This game is never over, the self-worth is never won,
For approval this fleeting, this shallow has soon gone.
Your entire self-worth crashes right down to the ground,
By one mild-mannered rejection, a snide comment or frown.
It soon left me quite hollow, couldn’t have liked myself less,
How could finding some comfort possibly worsen this mess?
But hand in hand with this issue - there's a darker reveal,
A vice with such danger, it barely seems real.
- PART THREE -
I sought solace in drugs, to liven my day,
It didn’t take long ‘til my life went astray.
In order to find out how this all came to be,
I’ll need you to understand 'her' grip over me.
So allow me to introduce a few "friends" of mine
If you greet them but once, then you’ll find them divine.
There’s Mandy and Katie, and the one just called "G",
And last but not least, is Tina you see.
The last one of these has a much darker side,
Deep down she’s evil, she'll eat you alive.
Or better yet still, she'll have you do it yourself,
You'll follow her whispers, and you’ll ruin your health.
At first you'll be fine and you'll tell yourself so,
But Tina works quickly, there's not long to go.
You’ll chomp and you’ll chew, you’ll pick and you’ll scratch
You’ll end up a shell, that’s Tina’s one catch.
Other than that she’s perfectly fine,
You’ll fall apart slowly, one piece at a time.
And then there’s the psychosis - well that’s just a treat,
When the shadows start watching you walk down the street.
I swear that that singer is writing songs about me,
Wait, what’s that you’re hiding? Don’t lie, I can see.
Still, there’s nothing quite like puffing clouds all the time,
Till five days, no sleep and I’ve started writing in rhyme.
Haven’t eaten for days, the fat’s no problem now,
My ribs start protruding, face is gaunt - but how?
I had the whole thing in hand, it was just once a week,
There’s just one final shard left, I can't help but freak
The story gets worse, believe you and me,
When Tina’s got hold there’s no getting free
The minute you try to stop smoking shard,
Full depression sets in and you crash way too hard.
If she can’t get you using then coming off it, she will,
"All the pain will soon stop" T whispers, "if you'd just pop that pill"
But the downers don’t work, Tina makes sure that’s a fact,
She’s not done with you yet, she'll first get you the sack.
You’ve got no money now, so you start helping her out,
You start selling her round ‘cause your fix was in doubt.
But look what you've done! You’ve passed her along,
You know what will happen and know full well it’s wrong.
But this was my fate, and so you will see,
There isn’t much left of a discernible me.
It’s too late for me now, too much of me's gone.
Nobody’s left here to save, if there ever was one.
But Wait! Hold up! Hang on just a sec…
It isn’t quite over, that bitch hasn't won yet.
I had forgotten that feeling, that desire to fight back,
The anger inside that builds you up to attack.
I’m starting to remember someone I used to be,
I was weak but tenacious; few others best me.
My resources are depleted and psychosis settled in,
It’s hard to stay sane when your mind's wearing thin.
It’s important that I know I'm not beaten yet,
Got some tricks up my sleeve, that bitch won't ever forget.
- PART FOUR -
Well, what happens next? I’m sure you’re dying to know
The middle is all done with, just the ending to go.
Now – don’t get frustrated but I just can’t tell you the rest,
I don’t know how it ends, I'm still living it - I confess.
Can't predict what will happen, perhaps there's one guess I can,
It won’t end with a fizzle. It will end with a bang.
Right now I’m alone, lost - no clear path in sight,
The state that I’m in, would give anyone a fright.
If all other attempts fail, then only one end is left,
Say it's the easy way out, you call me selfish to choose death.
- PART FIVE -
I was lost before I met her and even before that,
Had not a shred of self-worth, not even a scrap.
It was taken from me, before I even knew,
I was made to believe that somehow I needed you.
Tried so hard to fit in, to obey all of the rules,
To alter myself so I'd be liked by you fools.
I eroded away at the person I could've been.
By tempering myself down, so the real me went unseen.
All of my focus, my time and energy were spent,
While playing the role that you wanted, the 'real me' just went.
When I finally stopped caring about your version of me,
There was nothing else left there, no person I could be.
So I died long ago, certainly anything that was worth saving.
You know that person isn't real, don't you? The one that you’re craving.
The impersonation I laid on, worked more than it should,
Since it made all you like me more than I ever could.
So, how dare you remark callously on my final end?!
You've have said quite enough; my wounds cannot mend.
The blame must be pointed at one of us, three.
One must be the culprit but is it You, I or She?
It's funny that now is the time of all times, that I find
The root of the problem was not me and my mind.
No solution gleaned from this, can't go back to the past.
There’s only the future ahead and I’m not sure I’ll last.
I'm not giving up yet, I won’t just accept such a fate,
With some luck and some willing, I won’t have left it too late...
INSOMNIA
Tell me the name is for a goddess,
capricious and deadly, who
mocks the afflicted in their dreams.
I might endure more graciously
if only this were a dream. It is
she who tosses fireballs of light
pulsating, flashing bright
and going dim in the blackness
behind these herniated eyes,
to devour while I hear the sustained
pitch of a sonic scream through
the static frequency of night air,
the peel and cry of her harpies
smelling of singed hair and brains;
the fever and sound rips through veins,
cauterizing shut the window for sleep,
leaving the frantic staccato of a
heart in flight, as I whisper
Goddess, why spare me the night.
Tell me the name is for a goddess,
capricious and deadly, who
mocks the afflicted in their dreams.
I might endure more graciously
if only this were a dream. It is
she who tosses fireballs of light
pulsating, flashing bright
and going dim in the blackness
behind these herniated eyes,
to devour while I hear the sustained
pitch of a sonic scream through
the static frequency of night air,
the peel and cry of her harpies
smelling of singed hair and brains;
the fever and sound rips through veins,
cauterizing shut the window for sleep,
leaving the frantic staccato of a
heart in flight, as I whisper
Goddess, why spare me the night.
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
“I Have a Voice and I Know how to Fucking Use It!”
I have a
Voice and
I know how to
Fucking use it!
My pen strokes become
Vocal cords,
Creating not words but
My voice...
Screaming and irate,
Depressed and distant,
Insecure, but
NEVER unsure
So hear me
ROAR!!!
Some will say
‘No one will ever read what you write’
But you’ll remember me when I die.
For these words my pen
Scrawls upon the paper
Last longer than their doubtful hate
My voice is eternal,
Engraved unto stone
This voice I own
Echoes forever louder from
Heaven down.
So when asked
‘What is your claim to fame?’
I’ll simply smile and say:
‘The person I was able to inspire,
The tear I made fall,
The conversation I sparked,
The thoughts I provoked,
And the time I stole.’
Because
I have a
Voice and
I know how to
Fucking use it!
My pen strokes become
Vocal cords
Creating not words but
My voice...
Screaming and irate,
Depressed and distant,
Insecure, but
NEVER unsure
So hear me
ROAR!!!
I have a
Voice and I will
NEVER
Be silenced!
I have a
Stage the
World over
So try and knock me off it!
Opinions,
Views,
Confessions,
Questions
On paper
That cement my
Legacy...
You criticize me
But
Why the
FUCK
Are you so
SILENT?!?!?
I have a
Voice and
I know how to
Fucking use it!
My pen strokes become
Vocal cords,
Creating not words but
My voice...
Screaming and irate,
Depressed and distant,
Insecure, but
NEVER unsure
So hear me
ROAR!!!
Some will say
‘No one will ever read what you write’
But you’ll remember me when I die.
For these words my pen
Scrawls upon the paper
Last longer than their doubtful hate
My voice is eternal,
Engraved unto stone
This voice I own
Echoes forever louder from
Heaven down.
So when asked
‘What is your claim to fame?’
I’ll simply smile and say:
‘The person I was able to inspire,
The tear I made fall,
The conversation I sparked,
The thoughts I provoked,
And the time I stole.’
Because
I have a
Voice and
I know how to
Fucking use it!
My pen strokes become
Vocal cords
Creating not words but
My voice...
Screaming and irate,
Depressed and distant,
Insecure, but
NEVER unsure
So hear me
ROAR!!!
I have a
Voice and I will
NEVER
Be silenced!
I have a
Stage the
World over
So try and knock me off it!
Opinions,
Views,
Confessions,
Questions
On paper
That cement my
Legacy...
You criticize me
But
Why the
FUCK
Are you so
SILENT?!?!?
I wrote this today for a comp limited to 400 words so it's a bit compressed but hey-ho!
The Seer
Nine year old Temujin controlled his galloping horse with his knees, bow at the ready. The rabbit was swift turning and twisting. He guessed the animal’s next move and fired. The rabbit died instantly. He and Jamulka had equal kills.
That night by the campfire replete with roasted rabbit Temujin asked ‘Jamulka read the fire for me.’
‘It’s my father who is the Shaman Temujin not me.’
‘Nevertheless you have the power. Why did my father order us to hunt alone?’
‘Because of the Kurultai meeting with the Tartars he doesn’t trust them. You need no psychic powers to know that.’
Temujin‘s hot temper flared ‘I am the chief's son Jamulka I order you to read.’
Jamulka glared ‘take your hand from your knife Temujin I will not read under threat.’
Temujin complied but didn’t apologise. ‘Read.’
Jamulka took poppy powder from his pouch. He scraped a glowing ember into his bowl and sprinkled. After inhaling the smoke deeply for two minutes he sat back eyes glazed staring into the fire. His face contorted and he shook from head to toe ‘No, no’ he muttered.
‘What do you see Jamulka. Tell me am I to become a great chief?’
‘It‘s better you do not know Temujin.’
Temujin seized Jamulka’s goatskin jerkin violently ‘tell me or by the gods....’
‘You’ll murder me as you will your half brother?’
‘Why would I do that Jamulka?’
‘Because he is older and stands in your way.’
Temujin sat back glowering ‘If your prophecy proves false I will have your tongue cut out and your eyes removed so read truthfully.’
Jamulka knew he meant it but stared back unmoved ‘Very well you shall know and may the god’s protect you.’ He looked once more.
‘We must return at dawn.’
‘My father ordered a week.’
‘He is already dead murdered by the Tartars.’
‘Liar!’ Temujin shrieked drawing his knife.
Jamulka spoke calmly making no attempt to defend himself ‘it’s what he feared. That’s why he sent us hunting two boys alone with no escort to attract attention.’
‘The tribe will reject you and your mother Temujin. You will become a slave escaping only when you have learned patience and understanding of people. You will build a boundless empire and be titled Khan. Millions will perish cursing your name. You will die young how young is not for us to know. Your empire will live on.’
Historical note: Young Temajin's father was poisoned by his Tartar enemies when Temujin was 9. His mother had been captured by his father and forced to marry. The tribe rejected mother and son. In his teen years Temujin was captured and made a slave. He escaped and built a reputation for utter ruthlessness. He joined the tribes together and swept across Asia..Jamulka became one of Genghis Khan's most successful generals. The rest, as they say, is history.
The Seer
Nine year old Temujin controlled his galloping horse with his knees, bow at the ready. The rabbit was swift turning and twisting. He guessed the animal’s next move and fired. The rabbit died instantly. He and Jamulka had equal kills.
That night by the campfire replete with roasted rabbit Temujin asked ‘Jamulka read the fire for me.’
‘It’s my father who is the Shaman Temujin not me.’
‘Nevertheless you have the power. Why did my father order us to hunt alone?’
‘Because of the Kurultai meeting with the Tartars he doesn’t trust them. You need no psychic powers to know that.’
Temujin‘s hot temper flared ‘I am the chief's son Jamulka I order you to read.’
Jamulka glared ‘take your hand from your knife Temujin I will not read under threat.’
Temujin complied but didn’t apologise. ‘Read.’
Jamulka took poppy powder from his pouch. He scraped a glowing ember into his bowl and sprinkled. After inhaling the smoke deeply for two minutes he sat back eyes glazed staring into the fire. His face contorted and he shook from head to toe ‘No, no’ he muttered.
‘What do you see Jamulka. Tell me am I to become a great chief?’
‘It‘s better you do not know Temujin.’
Temujin seized Jamulka’s goatskin jerkin violently ‘tell me or by the gods....’
‘You’ll murder me as you will your half brother?’
‘Why would I do that Jamulka?’
‘Because he is older and stands in your way.’
Temujin sat back glowering ‘If your prophecy proves false I will have your tongue cut out and your eyes removed so read truthfully.’
Jamulka knew he meant it but stared back unmoved ‘Very well you shall know and may the god’s protect you.’ He looked once more.
‘We must return at dawn.’
‘My father ordered a week.’
‘He is already dead murdered by the Tartars.’
‘Liar!’ Temujin shrieked drawing his knife.
Jamulka spoke calmly making no attempt to defend himself ‘it’s what he feared. That’s why he sent us hunting two boys alone with no escort to attract attention.’
‘The tribe will reject you and your mother Temujin. You will become a slave escaping only when you have learned patience and understanding of people. You will build a boundless empire and be titled Khan. Millions will perish cursing your name. You will die young how young is not for us to know. Your empire will live on.’
Historical note: Young Temajin's father was poisoned by his Tartar enemies when Temujin was 9. His mother had been captured by his father and forced to marry. The tribe rejected mother and son. In his teen years Temujin was captured and made a slave. He escaped and built a reputation for utter ruthlessness. He joined the tribes together and swept across Asia..Jamulka became one of Genghis Khan's most successful generals. The rest, as they say, is history.
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Dragon Slayer
She used to fight dragons in her dreams,
Swords flying and blood being shed
The girl used to always triumph in her made up battles
And a grin sprouted upon her face as the morning sun grew in
She walked to school with some sort of swagger
That made all of the kids of the school yard gather
To hear her golden laughter
And just to make the bland world seem a tiny bit brighter
But she, one and only ray of sunshine, soon faced her own dark cloud
The dragons in her dreams became real,
And they were not as easily distinguished
Without her glowing eyes and stories, she couldn’t realize because of her others lives growing darker
Her loud and joyful household grew quieter
The kitchen which was once a place for jokes and family time seemed deserted,
As so did the rest of the home
The girl looked around at the ones she loved, growing sad upon watching their souls wither
To all the carefree kids who spirits are lost,
You can make your own light
In this twisted time of utter darkness, find the tiny bit of sunshine in the corner of the chaos
And depend on that to help you make it through your fight
The dim home was now filled with hope
Even though her dragons, cold blooded and vicious were swarming around
That ray of sunshine helped her cope
And soon the dragons were no more than a dream far, far, away
She walked back to school and yet again made the world grin
The girl who used to question the kids with watery eyes now knew
That there dream dragons came to life
And during that fight any and every emotion would strike
Now, the bright girl was an adult
Even though her real life dragons were many, she knew inside that the young dragon slayer she was in her dreams was still alive
So she faced our sad world, and greeted it with a smile just for the sake of it
Cause every dragon slayer knows that true hope is a beast’s worst weakness
So fellow warrior, please know that the love in our world is plenty
And that your dragons aren’t as strong as they seem,
And you’re not as frail as you believe
For everyone here is their own warrior, with their own dragons, and some don’t even know they are yet
She used to fight dragons in her dreams,
Swords flying and blood being shed
The girl used to always triumph in her made up battles
And a grin sprouted upon her face as the morning sun grew in
She walked to school with some sort of swagger
That made all of the kids of the school yard gather
To hear her golden laughter
And just to make the bland world seem a tiny bit brighter
But she, one and only ray of sunshine, soon faced her own dark cloud
The dragons in her dreams became real,
And they were not as easily distinguished
Without her glowing eyes and stories, she couldn’t realize because of her others lives growing darker
Her loud and joyful household grew quieter
The kitchen which was once a place for jokes and family time seemed deserted,
As so did the rest of the home
The girl looked around at the ones she loved, growing sad upon watching their souls wither
To all the carefree kids who spirits are lost,
You can make your own light
In this twisted time of utter darkness, find the tiny bit of sunshine in the corner of the chaos
And depend on that to help you make it through your fight
The dim home was now filled with hope
Even though her dragons, cold blooded and vicious were swarming around
That ray of sunshine helped her cope
And soon the dragons were no more than a dream far, far, away
She walked back to school and yet again made the world grin
The girl who used to question the kids with watery eyes now knew
That there dream dragons came to life
And during that fight any and every emotion would strike
Now, the bright girl was an adult
Even though her real life dragons were many, she knew inside that the young dragon slayer she was in her dreams was still alive
So she faced our sad world, and greeted it with a smile just for the sake of it
Cause every dragon slayer knows that true hope is a beast’s worst weakness
So fellow warrior, please know that the love in our world is plenty
And that your dragons aren’t as strong as they seem,
And you’re not as frail as you believe
For everyone here is their own warrior, with their own dragons, and some don’t even know they are yet
i saw stains on your dad's shirt
Yellow orbs appear
Surfacing the camera lens
You still capture the moment
Despite the flaw,
It's pinned to your board.
The thin rows of stitching
Woven together by Chinese machinery
Caging knuckles, scraped
"It's like honey, but it's bitter, not sweet."
A statement formed between
Trembles, yet you still reach to clean the glass
I recognize it from my window at night
Maybe it's dinner that's the most important meal of the day
A stab into greens as I hear a screechlike laughter
Twice.
Eyelids, flickering, alike baby birds
I wonder if they learn to collapse.
The light peeking through wooden shutters
Prevailed, brown stained white tank tops
The bitter-not-sweet is not just in his hand.
Shame, didn't you have it?
The even more bitter substance, fell upon you
Slipping down the ridges of your portrait
But alas, my anticipated response,
"I wouldn't recall seeing it."
Yellow orbs appear
Surfacing the camera lens
You still capture the moment
Despite the flaw,
It's pinned to your board.
The thin rows of stitching
Woven together by Chinese machinery
Caging knuckles, scraped
"It's like honey, but it's bitter, not sweet."
A statement formed between
Trembles, yet you still reach to clean the glass
I recognize it from my window at night
Maybe it's dinner that's the most important meal of the day
A stab into greens as I hear a screechlike laughter
Twice.
Eyelids, flickering, alike baby birds
I wonder if they learn to collapse.
The light peeking through wooden shutters
Prevailed, brown stained white tank tops
The bitter-not-sweet is not just in his hand.
Shame, didn't you have it?
The even more bitter substance, fell upon you
Slipping down the ridges of your portrait
But alas, my anticipated response,
"I wouldn't recall seeing it."
2:16 am
....can't sleep, it's 2:16 in the morning and the thoughts in my head won't stop... it starts like a whisper, a dripping from a leaky faucet into a basen the size of some marbled mausoleum ...thought....thought....thought....like some chinese water torture translated into english with syphered subtitles like some ancient language that only I can read and it keeps getting louder..thought... thought...thought... till it is a din blocking out the sounds of the busy city streets below...driving me madd like scurvy seafarers franticly foaming at the mouth as the heat of the sun bakes them like a pig on a spit to a nice medium rare with crispy golden skin and the wind won't blow for days sails flaccid like....but the sirens song is calling the sea wench pulling at your water depraved senseless no matter nevermind with her melancholy lullaby of a whisper ..come to my shore...come to my shore crash upon my jagged rather die by hanging rocks and mix with the oceans saltwater tears that are me with your blood and be one with me forever as we sink to the bottom of the sea where the pressure will collapse your body till it implodes like a dying star super nova and you are spread throughout the galaxies and then start to rain down like a meteor shower comets crashing into eternal nothingness...i have to get up before the rain covers my body and I drown...it starts with something like...your eyes remind me of moonbeams reflecting off oceans waves..goes to dear santa..and why do...and builds to an epic battle of titanic proportions and all this time the pressure is building in my brain like a jackhammer to the skull and then...
....can't sleep, it's 2:16 in the morning and the thoughts in my head won't stop... it starts like a whisper, a dripping from a leaky faucet into a basen the size of some marbled mausoleum ...thought....thought....thought....like some chinese water torture translated into english with syphered subtitles like some ancient language that only I can read and it keeps getting louder..thought... thought...thought... till it is a din blocking out the sounds of the busy city streets below...driving me madd like scurvy seafarers franticly foaming at the mouth as the heat of the sun bakes them like a pig on a spit to a nice medium rare with crispy golden skin and the wind won't blow for days sails flaccid like....but the sirens song is calling the sea wench pulling at your water depraved senseless no matter nevermind with her melancholy lullaby of a whisper ..come to my shore...come to my shore crash upon my jagged rather die by hanging rocks and mix with the oceans saltwater tears that are me with your blood and be one with me forever as we sink to the bottom of the sea where the pressure will collapse your body till it implodes like a dying star super nova and you are spread throughout the galaxies and then start to rain down like a meteor shower comets crashing into eternal nothingness...i have to get up before the rain covers my body and I drown...it starts with something like...your eyes remind me of moonbeams reflecting off oceans waves..goes to dear santa..and why do...and builds to an epic battle of titanic proportions and all this time the pressure is building in my brain like a jackhammer to the skull and then...
http://i48.photobucket.com/albums/f248/jadepandora/kitchen%20blue.png
KITCHEN BLUES
Sunday was chicken
and collard greens with rice.
Yesterday was fried ham
and chit'lins served twice.
But today, yes sweet Lord,
it's plum in your hands,
Ain't nothin' shakin' now
'cept the baby grand.
I'm tipsy when bread dough rises,
like my love.
Oh dear God, I can't help myself,
like my love.
On the stove, butter melts
on hot slabs o' bread.
I'm tipsy when the yeast
goes straight to my head.
Can't hear you, you know
what I'm talkin' about.
Soon's the weather breaks tonight
she's goin' out.
She'll be dressed for sin,
and won't be stayin' in.
She's smellin' BBQ
from the chicken shack
near the house of ill repute
across the track.
But this sinner don't care
what the hell she wears,
Or doesn't cook for dinner,
and I'm beggin'
as darkness swallows her
and laughs at my tears.
KITCHEN BLUES
Sunday was chicken
and collard greens with rice.
Yesterday was fried ham
and chit'lins served twice.
But today, yes sweet Lord,
it's plum in your hands,
Ain't nothin' shakin' now
'cept the baby grand.
I'm tipsy when bread dough rises,
like my love.
Oh dear God, I can't help myself,
like my love.
On the stove, butter melts
on hot slabs o' bread.
I'm tipsy when the yeast
goes straight to my head.
Can't hear you, you know
what I'm talkin' about.
Soon's the weather breaks tonight
she's goin' out.
She'll be dressed for sin,
and won't be stayin' in.
She's smellin' BBQ
from the chicken shack
near the house of ill repute
across the track.
But this sinner don't care
what the hell she wears,
Or doesn't cook for dinner,
and I'm beggin'
as darkness swallows her
and laughs at my tears.
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
