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Poetry Club

About This Club

Poetry club - Poems, ballads, lyrics. Words with sentiment are to be shared here.

  1. What's new in this club
  2. Title: Cold Coffee Cup The wind whistles, the mill whines, the flesh bristles in these chilled times. The air bites, the sun wanes, from days to nights the earth complains. While mind doth falter, and flesh doth fail, while quiet does psalter, and love doth pale, in the cold, buried all alone, lies an old, cold, coffee cup. While knee's do bend, and feet doth tread, while backs do ache, and earth doth quake, while wind doth blow, and mercilessly so, the old coffee cup doth remain, dully the same. Now, as wind grows quiet, as demons howls do retreat, as Helios does once again rise, and into the skies voices entreat, that old, cold, coffee cup starts to feel a change, his cold exterior starts to, itself, rearrange, and, that one last drop of coffee so cherished, begins to slip down, like a sinner from his parish. Each day it stoops, just a little lower, and each night its saved, just a minute longer, and as the bells of hell begin to toll, our old coffee cup finds himself beneath a sole. His warmth has died, his drip has dropped, his life bespied, charitably stopped. A broken image, of a thawed demeanor, a hollow vision, a tormented master, and all that remains, to signal death's grip, is a brown liquid sputter, and a rusted out chip.
  3. Title: Say What you Want ♥♥♥ I said you could drown if you wanted to, drown in my love, I don't got a clue, say what you want, but please, please don't forget the view. Oh yes I cried when you walked right out the room, and I tried but its just too much to sweep, with just one broom. So say what you want, I don't got a clue, I don't understand what you're meaning to, do to me, I can see, who you are, who you'll be, and I know you'll be with me, as I'm with you... So say what you want, I don't got a clue, drown in my love, yes I'm beggin' you, soar like a dove if you're meaning to, but I know who you will be, and you'll end up with me, you sweet thing you, yeah, its true, you'll end up with me, come on, you know it too, you'll end up... with me. ♥♥♥ Love you guys, hope you enjoyed this cute little poem! Note: I was Thinking it would sound really good as a song sung is kind of a folk-song way, I would love to sing it sometime but I am not a very good singer; if I practice maybe I can do it someday, gotta learn how to play guitar too as I think it'd sound better on Guitar than piano (my current instrument of my choice).
  4. Title: A Child's Dream (How I used to Smile) Do you remember how I used to cry, how I used to sigh and fake a smile, how I used to lie and live in denial? Do you remember how I used to curse, how I used to fight and how I used to lose? Do you remember how you'd be my nurse? Stitch me up nice with whatever was in you're purse. Do you remember how ungrateful I'd be, playing it cool, hoping you didn't see, what it was like to be me. Do you remember how I used to smile? Do you remember, cause its been a while... Do you remember how I hated the rain, how the cold showers only reminded me of my pain? Do you remember how I used to cut, I wore long sweaters so you wouldn't see, what it was like to be me. But you did... and you stayed. Do you remember how I used to write letters everyday, do you remember how hard it was to say? Do you remember unfolding that note, do you remember what it was like to choke, back the tears and back my fears? Do you remember what I looked like, dangling from that rope? Do you remember what it was like to be me? But I swear I didn't do it, I swear I was stronger, I swear I didn't let you down, I swear I'd have held on longer, I-it w-was this drunk driver you see, came out of nowhere and ended my misery... I swear I didn't let you down, but after all, you know what it was like to be me... Now, as you stand over me, are you crying or is that rain? I can feel its soft pitter patter on this stone-cold grave. Please, tell me you remember, please, tell me their tears, please, tell me you love me, and I'll tell you, "Be brave". Please, cry me a river, please, cuss me out cold, please, say you adore me, please, don't be so controlled... I can you feel you're soles, feel you're temperature, feel you're chain, I can you feel Jane, feel you again, but can you feel me, beneath all this terrain? Oh, Jane, please, just let me share you're pain... You've borne mine so long I can stand to see you go on, not like this... But just once more, could you cry for me? Could you show you care for me, still have that picture of me? remember when we were three, and we climbed that tree? R-remember, how I asked you to marry me, down on one knee, just a baby? Oh Jane, won't you please cry for me? Now I hear your parents, "Come on lets go", and I hope, just hope, you urging them, "no". Now the footsteps grow distant, which welcomes the thunder, welcomes the rain and welcomes the sputter. If only now, then what then? Were those truly you're tears, for me, being shed? But now I lie all alone, with only my thoughts, and that single nagging question, do you remember how I used to... Can you forget how I used to: cry, sigh, lie, curse, fight, lose? And just remember how I used to... Smile? Can you remember how I used to laugh, those rare times I wasn't bleeding in the bath. Can you remember how we used to talk, it wasn't always about death, tragedy and pain, don't you remember the days when it didn't rain? Say you remember my voice, that giggle I'd try to hide, tell me you remember my choice, my resolve to make you my bride. And a child's dream never changes, it just learns to migrate into the recesses, and the recesses of the brain, away from where all the pain is... And I think I know now, just why I'm here. It's a message from above, packaged up neat and delivered here, to the doorstep of my fear, written in capitals, crystal clear. And yet... It's like staring through a cold can of beer, on a hot summer's day. Like staring through a tear while you're begging me to stay. And it's hit me like a punch right to the gut, that you'd ask me to stay even today. Yes, I guess, I was always right and you didn't mean it; that tight lipped facade was so that you could believe it. But you couldn't, though you would, until today... And that's okay, I mean, it's true, what can I say? A child's dream never dies, it just migrates into the recesses and the recesses of the mind... Away from where all the pain is.
  5. This is a book I am working on, it is written in sort of a poetic way soI thought I'd post it here. It is about a Jiangshi, a chinese undead vampire. I may post more of it here later (or maybe I'll keep it to myself, lol) who knows. Anyway, tell me whatch'a think (if you feel like it). I intend to tackle some serious social issues with this. Prologue Darkness, a sound like hooves beating upon the ground and then… silence. A familiar smell entails a choice victim. Only a slingshot from the immutable stance of the emboldened figure whose name has yet to grace my tongue stands the prey. Weak and ripe for the raping, stout yet altogether senseless; it is an easy target for the musing mind of defilement. The moon dare not shine her divine light on this moment; the grass dare not keep silent upon this violent apparition nor the wind attempt not to warn the witless victim. Yet, it is by cause and effect that Mother Nature functions and through superiority that she fortifies her lodgings. A blood-stained beast of hell drenched in blood of an amount so much it alludes to post-pregnancy. His mouth, so dark and abhorrent, the blood of the innocent permanently permeating his taste-buds transforms a smile, a laugh, a yawn into a most surreal contradiction. His fingers, spindly and raw serving almost as several misshapen proboscis threaten the victim even after death has said his cold good-byes. His hair, stale and unkempt turn-coat from its originality under the eye of the divine moon goddess; it serves as a scarlet foresight into the existence of this inhuman terror. Thumping, a continual loathsome beating equatable unto that of the drums of war. A blood drenched orgy, dancing triumphantly almost as if in rebellion against the mance of the victim lying beneath him. A trail of entrails naught which the insects may refuse as their own. A meal deprived of meat with left none but a bone to with scorn the bypassing beast; a feast from which comes no sustenance but for the glutton of whom stripped bare all before the declaration prevailed unto the multitude. Jiang Shi
  6. Title: Sweet Devil As you walk you are bombarded with: pictures of ecstasy, rumors of obscenity and as you run towards visions of serenity you are only bombarded still... And that face, unblinking as if frozen in time hanging onto this one rhyme, it haunts you. Sweet devil. One hand on the bible and the other in the cookie jar, how did you get this far? House in denial, you're pain's gone viral, how are you living now? It's time to put yourself on trial. Would you take a stranger home, hold them down until they moan? Its not a hard question so what's with that tone? I wonder... Would you sit down in a club and throw you're money to the dancer? Please, sir, answer, its impossible to deny a stance here. Would you blame the victim for her choice of clothing? Oh, now what's with that look of self-loathing? Sweet devil. You say, "no", every time, but you lie, live an ideal for this rhyme and they cry. "But young men just wont do, they'll turn you black and blue, they'll break you're heart in two and go away laughing as they do". sweet devil. Its like looking in a mirror, you hate it but its part of you, its like looking to the past, present and future. Oh, what will you do? And these ecstatic images dancing in you're mind, they are only visions slowing the climb. You're blind to their problems but so protective of hers, what makes the majority inferior and one girl superior? Sweet devil. Hypocrisy rules your pitiful life, you warn her of yourself by warning her of them. You don't care and you know its true, you'd never give up a piece of ass if you didn't have to. You can't bear the reality of what you knew. who you'd be, who you were. You can't change the present but you sure as hell can put on a mask if you're up to task. The difference between you and them is you pretend you've changed while they acknowledge they never will. Sweet devil. So just go on condemning yourselves, condemning others and playing the hero, just go on condemning your past while hiding your future, the same prerogative. Just go on and on and on, it just goes on. Why can't you just be good? You know you should so simply do it. Put down the Viagra, can't you think without it? Weakness controls you, don't you want to quit it? Sweet devil. She serves only as an excuse to comfort yourself, to tell yourself you're doin' alright, because facing you're reality, its an awful sight and you can put it off just one more night... On and on and on...
  7. Title: I Love (You) Poetry "I want to write poetry". Such an inquisitive moment but I remember it so well, the warmth of the words, the paper, that smell... It was like nature was greeting me personally, calling me by name ever so calmly and presenting an outlet to present joy, fear and pain... A tag on which to inscribe my name. I feel that same warmth to this very day, it's a start in the heart that dances softly across the spine; an inspiration all mine. I don't need to think about the words and neither do you, just allow the music in your soul to surge through you. Sweater to big for my little arms, slippers too loose around my ankles, blanket wrapped just right around my snug body, I feel just like a child snuggled up close with his mommy. The day will come, when you'll feel the warmth of an open log furnace, an embrace from a sincere face and maybe even... That strangely familiar heat of inspiration, like holding the hand of your crush for the first time; You don't need to look her in the eyes, just allow her warmth to cure you're nerves and pick up the pencil. I want to hear you're ideas, I want to look at your mind, I just hope you don't mind; I know I'd love what I'd find. So don't be afraid, just open up, you might even surprise yourself. I love you, love yourself and always remember, don't let anybody else dictate how creative YOU can be. Stay positive whoever you are, you're priceless; here's a playlist of all the songs that make me feel warm, happy and inspired.
  8. I strike the face of folly Peering not into the future but the past As I wind down that staircase of regret I do not glimpse my own true nature
  9. Title: Language of the Universe (Like an Endless Flood) Bath towels and Cigarettes, long nights unaccompanied by rest, warm water above this bloody drain; I'm being drained myself, I'm being drained. The drip drop of the faucet like an endless flood, wading through this water, wading through this mud. And the language of the universe, it knows my name. The language of the universe knows my name... I'm not the same, I'm not the same. And the drip drop of the faucet like an endless flood. I wish I could turn it off but the handles broken. I wish I could shut it out but there's a crack underneath every door! There's a crack underneath every door... Am I really living anymore? This intrusive song echoing from beyond like a chinese gong, how long will it last, how long? How long can I last? I can't deal with my past! Because she's always got the joker and all I've got's the queen. And the drip drop of the faucet like an endless flood. These sounds, they used to remind me of incandescent youth, when I was ignorant of the truth, when we... This song. And I wish I could turn it off but the handles broken! The handles broken! The handles broken! And I wish I could shut it out but I'm broken... there's no way out. And the knock at my door doesn't remind me anymore, of: her touch, her smile, But only that of a corps's... And her tongue sounds the same with much less flavour and her palates unchanging even in danger, or when informed by a stranger... Yet I've been here all the while, learning a second language to justify it. But waters water even to the dead, the lame, the blind and those I try to keep out of my mind! And my mind... "I'm just a sojourner here, I don't understand your language!" I wish I could say, but she'd only respond, "Then what's with that tear?" in drip drops, the language of the universe like an endless flood... I can see it on his brow, in her frown, in the hiding of her face beneath her wedding gown... When will I drown In the language of the universe like an endless flood?
  10. Title: Porcelain Heart ♥ When the day is young and the bells been rung I'll lie awake in this song I've sung. And the scene will go with a flash of yellow, my heart aglow and maybe a pinch of snow. And I'll lie in bed, 'cause I don't care. Those tears I dread can't find me here. Inside my head its Christmas day, strapped in tight to Santa's sleigh. Phone in hand and flight laws broken just to leave that girl a token, of the word's I've spoken... under the covers with furry lovers. My breath's so hot and my arm aches, but its so easy how the bone breaks. And the clock ticks on nonjudgmentally as if it too is ignoring me. The moonlight calls us all sometimes, that's not easy to forget living in these words and rhymes. But I just wish we could forgo the silent callings of the world we know, so we could know one another. Y'know its funny, times not cheap but neither is money and when you work that hard the world sure looks sunny. But cooped up in these porcelain walls I cannot hear those distant calls. I'm not a child and I know Santa's gone, but I just wish his miss could hear this song... Because I'm warmblooded in the winter and cold every other time, and no dollar or dime could break that rhyme. But it's not like I've forgotten the days spent outside, no, in autumn there were a lot. And its not like I've forgotten the days spent on the road, friends side by side and the grass not mowed. No, every time I look outside I can feel that charcoal heat on the bottom's of my feet. I can feel that wind around my eyes and the length between the ground and the skies. And I can smell that smell, so familiar, like a breath of tobacco and a whiff of ginger. But I don't like to linger. If I had to choose between school halls or bathroom stalls I'd choose the latter. But I prefer glass walls where the tick-tock of the clock reverberates like an echo in outer space. Because if the former took first place I'd only ever see that face, and I don't have a can of mace to erase that image from my mind... So I stay inside all day and play, after all, don't all kids wish they could live that way? Now the tree stands tall and the leaves conceal... nothing, nothing to steal. Yes, the tree and me, we've one thing in common; we're both dead inside on this Christmas joy-ride. And I know there are millions, but what happened to the ones place, there are billions but what happened to the "smile on every child's face?" And I can feel it, that Christmas spirit, only when I'm allowed to come right near it, or when they take it in their hands and smear it right on my eyes, "See, look what Santa buys". Why do the naughty kids punishments get prioritized? They'll just fight it out when the fire dies. You get it don't you, you see it too, right? The cold gnawing of this Christmas night? "Loneliness makes it worse and so I wish you might, come and speak with me tonight?" Nothing, whether artful or described could touch me like this, natures call from the mist. The beep of the phone, the flash of the light, it resonates within these walls tonight. Now I can't find the door or maybe I don't want to because these walls are made of glass, light enough to punch through! Now out in the cold, mittens drenched with blood, (or is it the other way around?) I plod onward listening for that sound. But I've never heard her voice, nor the choir and that's always been my choice, so now I'll live like a liar. Any voice will do, its hers its true! Any voice, any voice will get me through. But I feel a cold crunch like the cracking of ice and I feel a sharp pain I've only felt twice. And I know its not nice, its not what you wanted, but I've got no rhymes to return to, no plan B's plotted. So I'll just sit down and stare at my hand, glass protruding and blood pouring from every bruise. But I'm numb and don't feel a thing, this winter will chill me right through this wound. And on this Floridan Christmas evening I will catch frost bite. ♥
  11. My Hands Are so Cold My hands are so cold Your breath so hot In my mind I scold For I've missed my shot Every day is rust, no gold Copper coloured ink blot In the secrets, untold That reside in the bloodshot Eyes, they see but what they wish Tongue to teeth, lips on your fingertip And blood stained clothes make the perfect dish When pain comes before simple companionship Lost in a world of another's creation With my claws continuously aching As I carve a path right towards damnation With no regard for how my own mind is breaking Under the pressure of securing a nation That, with my own eyes, I will see as breathtaking Yet, even still, I struggle to glimpse salvation For I had it once, in your eyes, there was no mistaking A beautiful love, grown from hate and starvation But I fear I will never have the chance of retaking Such, for I cannot argue with your rightful accusation I just wish this goodbye wasn't so heartbreaking ... My hands are so cold, covered in dust and ash And even the fire raging on, leaving Hell in it's path Leaving no chance at love, rather only this immanent clash Cannot warm my fingers like your hot breath's aftermath ...
  12. 136 Friendship, Folly and the Search for Acceptance: My Decision: Fourth Chapter Chapter 4: My Decision He's a friend, who sticks with you till the end. He's a friend who's loyalty does not bend. He's a friend who's shoulder is always wet. Yes, he's a friend you'd never forget. He's a friends who waits for you till the end. He's a friend who does not condescend. He's a friend who'll for you catch others in his net. Yes, he's a friend you'd never repent. He's a friend who see's the best in others. He's a friend who forgives you're failures. He's a friend who writes birthday letters. Yes, he's the friend you'd wish for in you're prayers. He's a friend who best see's through shutters. He's a friend who to protect you plays pretend. He's a friend respecting of his elders. Yet, he's the friend you curse with you're tears. He's a friend devoted to life. He's a friend trying to stay in touch. He's a friend devoid of all strife. Yet, what can be said of such? He's a friend devoted to you. He's a friend from you, but a touch. He's a friend devoid of all life. Yes, what must be said of such? Two friends, one mind. Two hands, outstretched but one time. Two voices, one line. Two choices, one rhyme. Goodbyes are overrated, hello's overstated. Living friends overexaggerated, corpses underappreciated. Pray for the damaged? I say pray for the damned. Fasten your corsage and into hell walk, hand in hand. I've taken for myself a final stand. Created from happiness my own brand. Idealism is fascism and this poem narcissism. And through true is the above, you envy her don't you? -Friendship, folly and the Search for Acceptance: My Decision. Fourth Chapter. Chrysanthymum M.W. 1994. Ed. Death. Unpublished.
  13. It starts first with the thumping, in the heart an anthem rising and from there free-will compromising. Up and down, plod and drown, one with he, one with she. It continues then by taking root of your mind, of your soul; natures goal, logic in the morgue. Dig your plot, its where you'll rot, but dirt is beautiful and sunlight overrated. It's brighter below. Now you're a mole, digging through coal without a prayer for your soul, yes, you are that thumping in the earth, the progenitor of that ever-rising curse. The blind lead the blind and those with sight bind. The blood of men, women and children, it feeds the earth. Blood and water, a holy resurgence giving way to new birth. Veins to roots and roots to snare, well, is it any different up there? Eye's go blurry and minds do spin, bodies grow weary and necks grow thin; however to be wary, now thats a sin. Collect their spines, collect their heads and place them gently into their beds. Then commences the whispering, a goodbye to history, starting first with the stinging and then with the misery; first with the singing and then with the novelty. Come now, join the row, plod and plow and don't ask how... And it all ends with the entrapment of the tongue. Feel that cold heat on your lung and it will tell you your last words been sung. The gongs been rung, the throng thrung and the battle won and those lying dead? None. Corpses close not their eyes, nor lay down to sleep, nor awaken to eat bread; but unwilfully bob in dread, for hellfire cradles them instead.
  14. Let Go Pop the champagnes And roll out the chains Fire in my veins Hold a gun to my brains And go! If three is a crowd we're waging war tonight Riot in the streets under flickering candle light And no one can stop us, no matter how bright For we see the world through touch not sight So if anyone dares to interrupt our delight This vision of vampiric gluttony will sure ignite Fire in the halls, who would dare fight? Listen to the calls and come, take flight Let go! It's an epiphany, the way we live One day at a time is all we give No regrets brings no need to forgive So we live in lust and in lust we outlive In this castle we drink blood: our own, another's, unknown But if you do not wish to taste it, you can give up your throne Take solace in the knowledge you are safe, both blood and bone For when you give up your commanding and assertive tone The power you'll feel under another is just the stepping stone Let go! Too many delicacies to list in word alone, my boy Come, take joy in knowing you can be our eternal toy With words sealed within our throats we surely enjoy Every minute, every moment every second we employ For pain, for pleasure, the line between we doth destroy And if you wish to join us ... I could use a whipping boy Lust is ever lasting and in this castle we adore it Adorn it in blood covered jewels that glow when moonlit For we riot in the midnight hours when God himself has quit When candle light is all we have to see each misfit Eternally clothed in the roles of submissive and dominate For who can hear those preaching the holy writ? Holy water hath no power if it cannot stop the hypocrite So in the dark and wicked hours we all, in some way, submit To our masters, to our lovers, to the lustful acts we commit For no one has ever escaped this moonlit candle pit Wherein we all indulge on the blood where our hearts split Let go!
  15. Title: Untitled It's funny, this feeling. Compression, I'm reeling, laugh track and I'm bleeding yet smiling while pleading. My nerves have gone haywire, my mind is on fire, I'd tell you the truth but then... I'm a liar. I'd ask you to stop, but can I quit? Getting back on top won't stop this trip. I'm down on my knees and I'm begging you please, but what for? I'm your whore and I screw with such ease... Gimp with a lighter, today I'm a fighter, tomorrow a dead man or something much brighter. Now you're holding me down but not like you used to, crying and saying that I've abused you? That look in your eye, mistress why? I swear I'd cry but then I'd die. Noble friends, brass, now distant murmurs of the past. Even the sun's beginning to look downcast. I sleep with a demon, a freak in the sheets, can't stop believing I'm wearing cleats. Mother is grieving and I don't know why, sister's deceiving dad by and by. The whole world's gone haywire and I'm just sitting her, one foot in the fire and one hand on the beer. Got a cold and a fever, just want to be near her, but I can tell now that death's drawing nearer. Hazel and crimson encircle my mind, in this torturous prison there's no time to unwind. This torture... The eyes of a loved one, the mind a demon, but not like the one that I could believe in. She'd hurt me, she'd kiss me, she'd show me no mercy, but it was a choice, and in that laid consistency. I choke on the misery, the pills I can't swallow, revel in the pity and wish for tomorrow; but I know... I cannot escape this sorrow. And now it's tomorrow, yesterday was then, a new body I've borrowed, my pain feels like a sin. She caresses my cheek and lifts up my chin, but things look bleak, because I am dead within. My posture has fallen and cannot return, my blood has slowed and cannot churn. I flinch at her touch and she flinches at mine, it's all too much, what's happened this time? A life in the grey, monotonous play, sacrilegious missionary, secretive orgy. I wish we could stop, but then, could we quit? Getting back on top would require a fit... Note: Sorry I didn't title this poem, but I couldn't think of a name befitting it. Hope you liked it anyway.
  16. Cotton Cotton hands wrapped around my throat And my mind's control is on remote Cotton fingers pressing on my pulse Can you feel the blood blocked by your impulse? You look so sweet while you strangle me And I can't help but beg and plea For more, for more, for more and more 'Cause everything I want is right at the door Cotton lips pressed to my skin Watch you sink your teeth right in I guess razor blades can't cut your tongue Or else this feverish dream would come undone You sound so sweet while you devour me And I can't help but beg and plea For more, for more, for more and more 'Cause everything I want is right at the door Cotton soft and candy sweet Everything about you knocks me off my feet Knowing eyes and a sympathetic smile Knows when my tears are crocodile I've got nothing to lose and so much to gain So I let you take my heart and my brain Watch your teeth sink deeper into my exposed flesh Body carved open as you hold my organs, so fresh Cotton hands wrapped around my bloody entrails My heart's still pumping, brain's clear in it's details But I don't look away or beg you to stop Instead I watch you start from the top Cotton fingers tracing over my now outsides Teeth digging in, making them your new insides And your cotton lips, now stained with my blood Make me want to taste them, oh, how I wish I could ... Cotton lips, so softly, press against my skin And I accept you, I let you, I let you right in Flesh carved open and, with my own blood, arrayed So climb inside this cave you've so carefully made.
  17. Lightning Pillowy soft Neon signs City loft It all aligns ... Watching the rain come down like it's about to thunder But there's no way either of us are going under 'Cause a little lighting never hurt anyone And you've got the marks to show it, you son-of-a-gun! Fingers circling skin lit up by the night sky Everything and everyone has a time to die But in this moment, we own it, and death won't get by 'Cause lighting doesn't strike twice unless we get high I'm busy in the bedroom fluffing pillows for tonight And you're busy in the kitchen trying to get dinner just right 'Cause we've been in bed all day just taking in the sight Of you, of me, of each other snuggled up all cozy tight Neon signs cast shadows on the walls Reminds me of horror tales about halls Haunted by ghosts and caterwauls That send shivers to the heart as it stalls The sight, so haunting, looks gorgeous on you And I wouldn't trade this city for a million or two 'Cause money can't buy the things we've gone through In this city and it's alleys, all the fantasies we've made true Sitting in your soft bed with my feet off the floor Dangling 'cause I'm too small to reach anymore And you're standing in the kitchen, back to the door And I wonder if you know how long I'll love you for 'Cause every time I stand on tip-toes just to kiss your cheek You smile like an idiot and tease me about it for a week But when we're hiding in alleys and trying to sneak Your lips are sealed like you'd die if you even made a squeak Like the lightning pattern on your skin I think that's about as far as I've fallen in Two become one, lightning for the win 'Cause you set my skin on fire with a simple grin Neon signs Electric lights Everything aligns In neon light nights.
  18. Make shift word play,laxodazical word "Eb' And Flow'". Constricted, entwined 'entangled A cacophony of word show. A stuck-strapped to the bottom of your boots Sinking feeling you know. You lost, remembered. Forgot and found. Quietly stuffing the brightest and quietest dreams you've allowed. Stricken and stitch meaning to all but that and this. The Curved and curling meaning stretched just out of grasp. Bending at the balance for what you wish to take...but they had none to give . ///// Make shift word play Eb and Flow A cocophany of word show You lost...remembered... forgot and found- The Curved and curling meaning stretched just out of grasp Laxodazical, constricted.. entwined.. entangled A stuck strapped to the bottom of your boots quietly stuffing the brightest and quietest dream you've allowed A sinking feeling bending at the balance for what you wish to take Stricken and stitch meaning to all but that and this for I have much to give.
  19. Routine? I feel like I've lived a million years but my card says seventeen And I feel like I've seen you before but maybe it was just a dream 'Cause even though I remember your name maybe it's just a scene I made up in my head when I was lonely ... lonely on the balance beam But then again I feel like I've said your name before, under covers when I was nineteen Nineteen? Can't be, I've only lived seventeen years, see, it says so right here in my bloodstream And I know we couldn't have met 'cause you say you've been sick since you were in between And you couldn't have made it out of the hospital, not even with the best darn scheme But, still, in my bones, every day, I feel like I've touched your hair while we were in the limousine You looked so nervous on the way to the prom even though you fit the "Beauty Queen" theme And I knew right then and right there I wanted to marry you with a wedding like the ones on the silver screen And when I think about it hard enough I can kind of remember sitting outside in the middle of a daydream And you came up to me, smile so wide, you looked so darn pretty and said, "My name's Jean. It's real nice to meet ya, I don't mean to keep ya, but would you like to be on my team?" So we played all day and your skirts got all muddy but you still looked as elegant as a queen And when you went home that night I remember, I was sitting in my room late December gleam And I couldn't forget the way your eyes lit up like the 4th of July when you said you were a year older than my fourteen But now that I recall I'm a year older than you, June ... can't be! I vividly remember you bathed in a moonbeam Hair tied up with curls framing your face, freckles on your nose not a single one out of place, something I've never unseen So how then, tell me, how can this be? You're a year younger than me? Sick in your room with a sickness so extreme You can't leave the hospital for a second. Where did this go wrong? Tell me, who changed the leaves? They're no longer evergreen ... Now I'm sitting on your bed, my hand on your head, watching your eyes tear up and you light up like a sunbeam "Marco ... is that you?" And I feel my heart tear in two, why does that name sound so familiar? Is this simply routine? "Jean?" I whisper, my lips trembling with the effort and I feel like I might scream Seeing you their, your name unknown to me, I feel like I'm next up for the guillotine "I knew it," you whisper, your voice so soft, "I knew you'd come back!" you say all agleam And I can't manage to do anything but cry as my shoulders shake and I feel like I swallowed gasoline "Don't cry," you smiles and though it's weak it calms my soul, "I know we'll meet downstream And when I see your smile, next time we meet, no sickness, death or things unforeseen Will have the power to keep me away from you, for I will break out midstream If that is what it takes to live a life with you, in love, like when we were nineteen."
  20. Pretend, Play, Puncture ... Pretend The feel of your skin against my tongue Devilishly sinful yet so delicious I've always had trouble, ever since I was young But watching you squirm under me has me feeling avaricious And I can't think of a single thing that has ever been sung That sounds better than you when you're trying not to be suspicious ... It's like the feeling I get when I claw at your skin just to see if you can persevere It's the feeling I get when I bite your lip just to taste the blood The feeling I get when I burn your eyes so it's a struggle just to see clear Yes, it's like the feeling I get when I tighten the rope just to hear your heart thud ... Everybody likes to play pretend but none like it as much as I 'Cause I can be the sweetest little boy who would never do wrong Until I flip the script and decide it's the time you either cry or accept the lie Because even though you may sing the chorus I'm the one writing the song ... Devil in me or devil in you? Who really cares to tell? I'm too busy downing whiskey to set your lungs afire So if you think I'm the devil just wait 'til you're his shell So you can try to put out Hell's fire before you expire. Hush now, don't say a word ... I'll show you how to handle it Breathe in, take a breath, hold it 'til it hurts your lungs Feel my hands around your throat, sorry sorry hypocrite Tried to sell me down the river just to speak in tongues! Nobody lies to a liar and escapes the devils wrath Don't try to trick a trickster or they'll trick you right back But no matter what I say you won't learn your lesson in the aftermath For my greed is more than king Midas' and without the drawback I have no need for mercy, empathy or tears when I have a bloodbath And if I can bathe in your organs when all is said and done I'll gladly attack No mercy for a liar, no mercy for your tricks, no mercy from a psychopath Who's sick of your detestable melody and harmony, no longer my Prozac I'll write a better song anyway, and she'll sing it like she's on the warpath Little nymphomaniac, angel turned devil, yeah she'll be my insomniac! The feel of your skin against my tongue Devilishly sinful yet so delicious I've always had trouble, ever since I was young But watching you squirm under me has me feeling avaricious And I can't think of a single thing that has ever been sung That sounds better than you when you're trying not to be suspicious ...
  21. Title: Smile You're smile, I see it only in my own and you're touch, I feel it every time I moan. Its too much, in bed and alone, a cold husk since you all I've known. The warmth dear, makes me feel at home, its cold here that's why I'm writing this poem; I just hope, that you don't know, I can't cope, where did you go? I'm selfish, telling you this, selfish but I'm eating my fist. This dark world, was so much brighter when you, opened my eyes to a whole other view, but right now, that views looking dim, because someones here and your not him. He's talking in my ear and making me grin, I'm buying him a beer though I know its a sin. He's drawing me nearer, is our love fleeting? Because I feel like I'm floating right up to the ceiling! But I cry when he wants a smile, inside, I'm so in denial. Bedside has gone out of style, because from you I'm only a mile. And this thought it torments me so, I don't want to stay but should I go, oh I don't know... Honey you'd like him, its true I swear, you not even here, why should you care? I'm sorry, I just wish I could run my fingers through your hair. Its ungodly, this feeling of despair. And now into the photo albums I stare, our pictures weary with wear and tear, covered up by an unlikely pair. Family called me and I came running, but I live regretfully, its not that shocking. 3 years hold me here, tiny hands and words of cheer; and 54 years hold me down, but not enough to drown. I've turned my smile to a frown, worn once to many a wedding gown; If I'm to see you once more, I'll be sure to bring something you'll adore. Bathtub water play and play, soap is fun but I cannot delay; we will see you today, my baby.
  22. Title: Demon in Leather This is not love, its a disease. I'm down on my knees, you were not sent from above. "Demon in leather, kiss it all better", you are my master, cannot forget her. Blood on the sheets, curtains, walls, mirror! Who is that girl, what is this horror? I'm pinching myself to wake up from this night terror! The cuff's, so deceitful, whip only knows evil, master's medieval, this is illegal. Shards of glass fragment my past; bruises and slashes turn me to ashes. I am his slut, the girl in the mirror, wish she would cut, but then I'd feel her. Lines on the walls, missing bathroom stalls, dreaming of void and skulls and being meat for the gulls. Sadism, my decision, escapism my ambition, finale the barrel of a gun; But I don't even think I can run... I told him it wasn't that fun, he laughed as if it couldn't be undone, I told him I wanted to see the sun, he said if he'd sinned what was just another one? Is this what I deserve, to serve, to be the curb to the stomp, the reverb to the romp? I can't cope, I won't hope, its not that I've given up just that I was destined for this from the start. I've gotta play the part, bulls-eye for the dart; play the part and cry in the dark... My mind its numb, maybe that'll help my body some; I'm his gum, spit me out when he's done. This is not what I expected, he's supposed to stop when I objected, but now I've been subjected, no longer protected. Its not like I don't understand, after all I am this man kicking myself around in a tin can, no, its that I do; and I hate you... A feeling so raw, nostalgic awe, a saving grace now a damning disgrace, I had no time to brace. Pain saved me, I loved him so; gave him the key and whispered, "Don't let go". But the key was not for me, but for my pretty, pretty little bitches, used to sing that song inside my head. Oh yes my pretty, pretty little bitches, watch them scream and wail until their all dead. But we all cry at funerals, even for dolls, yes we all cry at funerals before shopping malls. And now my blood rushes from my head, whatever happened to pretend? And on his face no smile cured, whatever happened to the safe word? Yes I am him and I know the answer for I've given in to this cancer. Knock on the door, merry laughter, blood on the floor, get the pastor. Note: I gave a lot of thought to this poem so I hope you guys all liked it! ~♥
  23. Title: Plea of the Godly Begone thou bygone admonition, asperser of mine ambition, bite thy tongue and holler for by noon you'll lie in squalor. These streets I tread are filled with dead, livestock, human, interbred. Mangled corpses moan and wail, though their cries for pity all but fail. In my hand hold I a coin, a choice, a reputation. And as if by some divine intervention, upon its face do I chance my reflection. What lies yonder these pathetic streets, gold in hand feasting upon sordid meats? Nay I say, I won't fall prey, to Christ's temptation, not today. I scrounge for naught but mine own gain, but I scrounge nonetheless, what a freeing pain. Now dirt does these my duds besmirch, yet you'll see me on my knees in church. And with Mother Mary's gaze upon me I'll petition not for piety nor pity; I'll plead not for salvation nor money. For mine own divine tenacity I bow the knee and bleed; Though banefully ugly , I would never concede. These mutterings leave my mouth as shields barring me from heaven's yields. I pray alone for I am lonely, praying only for mine own story. Hath God not bestowed upon this mortal form all? Would I truly wish Him from heaven's throne fall? Nay, thanksgiving is the only tonic He will taste, the only sacrifice I will baste. In mine hands clench I the dust to which again return I must. And in mine eyes a tear doth furrow for humanity is just so. This writhing heat upon my palms, diluting under the slightest pressure, this is mans qualms; societies indenture. This shrinking weakness caking my wrist is nothing less than my wife's lustful tryst. Let it come, the frightsome black kingdom, wherein doth plague drown the hag, Mary. Why doth the ground rumble, doth the second coming's trumpet hark? Nay, for the church's crumble; their candles burnt out and all's gone dark. This vision I see everyday in the most wearisome to the most wealthy of company; for despite their facade's they will all fall prey to devilry. Am I yet the only one holy? Mothers Mary's rosary chills me to the bone, Christ's pain ignites my blood in flame. So close to my breast hold I his name, yet am I not one in the same? The difference lies within for with the multitude tis a game. "Deliver the sick, cure the lame", you've only yourselves to blame. Seek and ye will find, yet an evil sign not thine, appears before thee now. Yet in the cradle of my hand rests abundant mammon, enough to cure thee of thine deserving famine. But what good would charity do now for a faithless sycophantic sow? I bid thee well, adieu, ye erroneous apostate and command thee grovel in thine gluttonous state. The taste of blood and sedition of gore is all you now adore. Satan's whore, flagellation will do thee good no more. Related Bible Verses (KJV): Psalm 82:6-8; Philippians 4:13; Matthew 7:6, 14; 16:4; 17:20; 25:14-30. Note: The above verses lend great value in the interpretation of this poem so I would advise you read them if you have time. ♥~Always remember, you are having a great day~♥ -LILDOOP
  24. My Girlfriend is a Garden. My girlfriend is a garden and she grows every day Her green hair looked so pretty when I watered it today And her brown skin's sprouting flowers just like it's child's play I just hope she doesn't get too big to keep this way But if she does at least she won't have withered away ... My girlfriend is a garden and she likes when I sing my song They say music helps grow flowers and she says it helps her along 'Cause she believes I could never sing a single note wrong And I just hope she doesn't get too big 'til she can no longer belong But if she does at least she'll have heard my song for so long ... My girlfriend is a garden and she's started growing trees The flowers on her fingers are the same as on her knees And she's got birds coming to greet her with happiness and ease 'Cause I opened up a window so she could feel the breeze And I just hope she doesn't get too big for me to please But if she does at least she'll have the birds, bugs and bees My girlfriend is a garden and I give her all my love and time For she makes me so overtly happy, especially in the springtime When she lights up with flowers and holds her wind chime I just hope she doesn't get too big for me to kiss at bedtime But if she does at least she'll have natures company and thyme ... Yes, my girlfriend is a garden and I love her with my whole heart She's eternally joyful, full of light and such a sweetheart And I just hope she never grows too big that it keeps us apart But if she does at least she'll know my love for her will never depart.
  25. Dangerous Game It's a dangerous game we play Up late at night when no one's awake Yeah, it's a dangerous game to stay This close to you when we might break And it's a dangerous game to look your way When I know we're both hiding, so fake Yeah, it's a dangerous game for us to lay Under the stars, back of your car, beside the lake ... What a dangerous game, but I can't stay away When you look at me like that, I begin to shake And even though it's a dangerous game we say, "Nobody can catch us if we make it back by daybreak." What a dangerous game we play in the middle of the day And sometimes it's too hard to wait, oops, my mistake 'Cause this dangerous game is starting to weigh On my heart, my lungs, causing this headache And this dangerous game may just get us today And I swear, I hope this doesn't end in heartbreak 'Cause this dangerous game feels like a holiday When you're the one I see right when I awake And in this dangerous game we're no longer targets or prey When we're in the back of your car, we don't have to hit the brake 'Cause in this dangerous game you get my mind back on that hallway Before your puffin' on a cigarette like you need the smokey intake Yeah, in this dangerous game you live like such a castaway That the smoke makes your lips taste like an earthquake 'Cause in this dangerous game you make my earth sway Every time you look at me like you have to do a double take ...
  26. Ash. Cigarettes as painkillers, why did I think that would work? Drown my sorrow 'til tomorrow with the flick of a spark And I'm working on something that needs more teamwork But I'm busy choking on smoke out in the dark ... Alcohol and painkillers mixing in my throat Choke back the pills just to fight back the smoke And I thought I could calm my shaking with a coat But my bones seem to ache as if they've been broke She says I taste like ash when I kiss her lips I guess I don't taste the same as I did when we met And she says my hands shake when I touch her hips So when she falls asleep I smoke another cigarette I can't keep her happy anymore, I think that happened a while back 'Cause she used to kiss me like I was her world, everything she needed me to be But now she stares into space when she thinks I'm busy with another pack And barely kisses me at all when we meet ... so why does she stick around with me? Swallowing back another round of painkillers I try to force my hand to stop shaking It's been trembling all day, the veins visibly pulsing with alcohol and ash Every breath and every step sends my head reeling with thoughts that send me quaking And I can't seem to figure out how to fix my problem, I'm down to my last bit of cash ... She says I look like I've been crying but I swear it's just the smoke 'Cause I'm on my last pack of cigarettes and the rooms filled with their scent She says my eyes look darker than usual and I can tell she hopes it's a joke But I've never been good at those, jokes I mean, they never come out how I meant In her eyes I see the coldest shade of fear and she takes my shaking hands in her steady ones, tight She looks me right in my cold, dead eyes and swears she's gonna make this night worth my time So I try my best to focus on her, on the way she's focused one me, but my mind wanders back to the sparks light Sitting beside me she looks so heartbroken and I know my silence is nothing if not a crime Standing outside the store I can't help but wonder how my eyes must look in this light Red shades casting shadows over my face that I fear make me look like a devil And as I look up at the sky with smoke in my lungs, I let this cloud out into the night Watching it twirl, separate and vanish I go back to our springtime revel ... In the smoke filled room she caught my eye with the way she kept on dancing Like some sort of mystical creature enclothed in smoke and lights Her eyes locked on mine and she flashed me a smile so entrancing That I kept coming back just to see her light up even the darkest nights And as I sit outside, my knees aching as they press into the concrete I can feel the blood in my lungs starting to rise and I clench my teeth Imagining her finding my body sends me down a backstreet And I hope to God, if He's up there, he has pity on those who're beneath ...
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