|
| |
just_write_make_something_up
|
|
|
Effingham Fish
|
The words get stuck in my brain. See, even that was lame.
|
011231
|
| |
... |
|
|
hey now!
|
look, i cant do this when you put me on the spot like that.
|
011231
|
| |
... |
|
|
ClairE
|
But you are watching me now.
|
011231
|
| |
... |
|
|
birdmad
|
i drop the smoldering remnant of my last cigarette in the sand-filled ashtray and cut across the pathway to the corner, the rain has picked up its pace and gone from merely spitting down to something a litle more noticeable
i hear a sound, clattering wheels, one of the street people who rides a bicycle around on rims, the tires long since flat and no money to change them or fix them.
he's getting closer and by the sound of the speed he is picking up i would guess that he expects me to hear him coming and thus move.
i pivot on my heels and a trace of bubbles bleeds up from the puddle in the sidewalk where i am standing
i pause and hold.
if he isn't going to be nice enough to say he's coming through or to ask me to excuse him, i intend to make him sweat it.
i hear him push the pedals even harder as he closes in
the least you could do is say "hey, comin' thru" buddy. now it's a game of chicken, what if i were deaf you silly fuck, i'd have never heard you approaching and yuou would have just bashed right into me
i hold until he is almost right on me, all of this taking place in the span of about ten seconds
half a second to go before impact, i jump off the sidewalk
i see a look of almost psychotic indifference (if such a thing is possible) as i move out of the way, i imagine it gives way to an expression that just broadcasts the words "Oh SHIT!" as he realizes that with no rubber on his wheels, trying to stop with so little sidewalk left is a different equation than what he had in mind
i ponder the empty poack of smokes i have thrown in the can and wish i hadn't made up my mind to quit
i walk on.
|
011231
|
| |
... |
|
|
kerry
|
[holds hands over ears, pulls knees to chest]
you, too conventional;
i expected you to be orthodox.
christian.
dominant over all of us.
but no,
simply conformist,
cardigan sweaters,
all pleats...
my heart shatetrs at the thought.
and NO!
I WILL NOT CONFORM!
you admire them...
they're all lavender,
jasmine,
seasalt,
pretend to be organic but
they're carnivores too,
you know.
and you could never be them.
|
011231
|
| |
... |
|
|
kerry
|
if we didn't have to
EXIST
hating each other,
maybe i could leave with
something positive...
as lame as that sounds.
i could be giant but
you wouldn't notice my tears
even as they're drowning you.
i could have a voice that
uproots the trees when i scream
but you wouldn't hear me
even as the ground cracks before you.
i could be strong but
you wouldn't feel me even as
my iron claws grip your shoulders.
|
011231
|
| |
... |
|
|
cube
|
That's a fine piece Kerry.
Thanx...
³
|
011231
|
| |
... |
|
|
sphinxradio
|
watching tv makes my brain go a bit dead for a bit. telivison promots iliteracy, they say, ha ha ha.
|
011231
|
| |
... |
|
|
sphinxradio
|
i said "bit" twice.
sorry.
must be the tv thing again.
|
011231
|
| |
... |
|
|
CelticMistress
|
My futuristic expectations hold uncharted boundaries,
Yet, painfully, they also hold a limited expanse of hours
Wrapped in a dew moistened rose petal for my befalling.
I know the seconds are ticking away.
My friend, if only I could grasp Time in the palms of my youthful hands
And let it seep through my bodily covering,
Then I should never find a reason to fret.
I would hold the essence of humanity in my hands,
Therefore, I could do as I pleased with it.
Unfortunately, I cannot.
I suffer along with the rest of the inhabitants of this wretched place
Held in bondage, enslaved by this thing called Time.
I must comply with worldy rules and rituals,
Some of them debilitating, and some toturous.
For fear of a loss, I claim no interest in Time.
It steals and it cheats us out of our only joys.
But since I cannot surpass it's power,
I must endure losses and cheating.
My love will saunter off into his new life,
And I will remain for the duration of mine.
Until then,
I have no curiosity in Time, but it will continue on.
As each day passes, he will be closer to dparture,
And I will be closer to solitude.
My mind has not the capacity to document our shared chemistry
Although my senses emit wave upon wave of it throughout my being.
This I will cherish until Time takes over.
|
020101
|
| |
... |
|
|
CelticMistress
|
The level of steaming liquid rose,
as my slender body sinks into the bath.
Tresses piled on top of my head
with lazy tendrils fallen about my face.
Upon the edge sat a waxy column aflame at the tip.
Its droplets descend on their way to the base.
Cold walls and floors are aglow with warm hues
attempting to draw in an ounce of heat.
My eyes caught wavering candlelight
illuminating my curved outline.
Mesmerizing swirls of steam are visible
seeming like ghosts escaping a vast emptiness.
Longing to share this moment with a certain someone,
thoughts of his absence run through my mind.
|
020101
|
| |
... |
|
|
ever dumbening
|
tommy loved that crown vic
"dude, it's a crown vic."
yeah, we know
"dude, it was a cop car."
yeah, we know
"dude, that shit is tuned up like a fucking nevada whore."
yeah, but are you going to keep it tuned?
tommy's primer grey crown vic was the perfect symbol of his title as the stephen hawking of cars--all theoretical. man, if he ever worked on that thing, the world would be full of non-polluting, gelato burning autos. he's totally fucking brilliant--on paper. do some work, fool.
|
020101
|
| |
... |
|
|
paste!
|
plentiful, ya know, these blasted centers of yadda yadda, where is the tonka tense? you run out of light supplies, you find a halogen shriek, you fall on your face, the portable solution is your body. a good center is the monstrosity. flooby postcarded drunk manifesto melting.
|
020102
|
| |
... |
|
|
silentbob
|
even though it isnt shockingly obvious to anyone but me, i still think you owe me something.
|
020103
|
| |
... |
|
|
kerry
|
preserve every memory,
don't forget like Leonard.
sledding down a thick-covered hill,
his hand
around my arm,
he's all shady eyes and shaggy hair,
calling me fragile.
i look indignant but
i don't really mind.
it's snowing,
delicate flakes,
champagne brims the glass,
i'm all bubbles and
*giggles*
[no, i'm not drunk!]
rubbing feet,
eyes drying in front of the computer screen.
i must remember.
the guys
in their vans and old army jackets,
and remember that
i have as much of a right to be happy
as anybody,
or more than everyone...
it's a goddamn necessity,
isn't it?
isn't it?!
remember to always be selfish
when it comes to your happiness.
and
i have the right
to be a bitch
if you're pissing me off.
does anyone else think
shaggy hair is hot?
|
020103
|
| |
... |
|
|
TK
|
shaggy hair IS hot
(Below are random snippets of my poems duck taped together)
This burns me deeper
Than I thought it would
But I guess
I always knew
That it would happen
nothing exists
definity of a wall
and there is no such thing
as the truth
Mindless slobber
drivel, destitution
Oozes like mucus
pouring out a nostril
We all are
Wise fools
Words spilling forth
from your mouth
Losing all meaning
As soon as their spoken
Avoid looking
In my direction
Fearful of the
Punk haired
Purple eyed
Cyndie Loper
Wannabe
Freak
lets go play Twister!!
while you hear another reply
Oh you wanna play Twist-her do ya?!
Well i bet i could Twist her!
and you begin to feel dizy
A tossed aside ragdoll,
tattered, with ripped away seams
and no buttons to sew back on.
When all the books hve been burned,
do we still thirst to know?
She studies her cage
looking for a way out
Running down my cheeks
Cutting like razor blades through
My heart
Only beats for you
wisps of melancholia
float like ghostly apparition
The netting of their whole existance has
been tampered with by some inner reckining
something hidden deep inside.
but you understand,
the bees are quite common
this time of year,
He stuck his arm out to stop the closing door.
"Don't you want to get on?" he asked.
"No, um, I left something in the car."
She was backing away.
"You want me to walk you to your car?
You look scared..."
"No." she said.
Where is the truth when you need it?
Where is the key to unlock the door?
Its too late for Julia,
She used up her last life.
|
020103
|
| |
... |
|
|
Casey
|
My name is bruce.
Like Bruce Lee?
Who else?
So you must know kung-fu!
Oh yeah I know it, I steped in it once.
|
020109
|
| |
... |
|
|
CheapVodka
|
She slammed the door hard in his face. She hated it when she couldn't hate him. "Open the door, please." He said in his calm voice. Why was he always so fucking calm? Why doesn't he just get mad sometimes and try to leave her? Then she could just hate him and get it over with. She wanted so badly to hate him. "I don't want to open the door, you don't deserve for me to open the door." She slid down to the floor with her door to the back. She could hear him walking away loudly as if to make it apparent. "That's not going to work you know!" she said loud so he could hear her thru the door. She got to her hands and knees and looked under the door crack. His feet weren't there. Had he really walked away? She considered opening the door and see if he were still out there but she figured it was one of his tricks. "I know you're just around the corner, you can't fool me." she yelled loudly again. "I'm not there." he shouted back from the other room. Sheesh, why was he making HER look like the difficult one. He's prolly just throwing his voice, she considered. But she knew he couldn't do it. Could anyone throw their voice, she thought to herself. Engaged in the thoughts of people throwing their voice she heard his footsteps coming back. "I brought you something, I'd shove it under the door but it's too big for that." he said more calm then before. Why was he always so calm!? "You can't make me open this door, I'm tired of you making ME look like the foolish one.", she pouted, "I'm not six you know." "I know, but I brought you a sandwhich, you're favorite." Her weakness, damn him. Why does he have to be so sweet? Opening the door enough to stick her hand thru she grabbed the sandwhich and slammed the door back. Between the 2 slices of bread was 2 pieces of cheese and mustard in the middle. This would not do... Opening the door she tossed the sandwhich out and shut it back. "I'm still mad at you." She had her face against the door, smooshed up against it. She just got so tired of him always winning thru manipulation. Opening the door he stood there, just smiling. He was so beautiful but such an asshole. "I hate you, just know that." "You don't hate me." he said with a smirk. "I'm working on it though, if I could, i most certainly would." He hugged her and she just stood there. "You don't have to get so mad, I didn't realize it would piss you off so bad." "Well it did." she said and promptly afterwards, sticking out her lip. She had a few manipulation tricks of her own. "Aww..you know you always win when you do that, I shouldn't have mentioned it a weakness." Well, it's good to know you're not as collected as you pretend to be, at least sometimes.
|
020109
|
| |
... |
|
|
good people
|
i had sex with a mechanical jesus a few hours ago.
monkeys eat squids. squids eat birds. i ate a bat.
there are two women over there fucking a polar bear
oh shit, did i just say that? or did i just think it....
|
020110
|
| |
... |
|
|
you know an d so do i
|
just shoot me at least three times just to be sure
yeah that
uh huh
|
020426
|
| |
... |
|
|
daxle
|
I went into the shower, and sat down. Small enclosure, so my back was against one wall and with my knees bent my toes touched the opposite wall. Tears dripped down my face, drips came down from the shower head onto my face, and it rained outside. With my eyes closed it was all the same.
|
020427
|
| |
... |
|
|
poetic_onslaught
|
i figure there's three kind of people in this world. ignorant people, idiots, and the rest. i haven't thought hard enough to associate the 3rd group with anything yet. the idiots are the philosiphers or so called wise. its a waste of life to try to figure out life because when it comes down to it, most of life is fake anyway. 99% of life is an illusion. if an ugly person has the confidence that she is pretty, and fools herself to believe this, doesnt everyone else start to believe it too? that is why there are so many cultures with different beliefs and rituals. what seems absurd to us makes perfect sense to someone else because that is their reality. if a person was raised with all the money and everything that he needed, he would still find something to get depressed over, because that is human nature. we base our existence on suffering. we will never find a meaning of life as long as we live in this illusion. i believe that this illusion is life and there is no actual "reality" in the way that most people think of reality. the ignorant people are the happy ones, and they are the ones we should listen too. they only see what they wanna see and live in this sort of fantasy. since most of life is an illusion anyway, you might as well make it your illusion to enjoy. am i right or am i right? well thats just what i think
|
020427
|
| |
... |
|
|
i_ate_too_many_lemons
|
in the end even fake things are eal in their own way.
|
021008
|
| |
... |
|
|
i_ate_too_many_lemons
|
i guess not, i couldn't even type it...
|
021008
|
| |
... |
|
|
..
|
..
|
090114
|
| |
... |
|
|
oren
|
It_was a bright and fair-weathered day...
|
090114
|
