Court Me Oh Centipede
Velvet petal, heart-shaped and sanguine
Silken riddle- woven intravenously
An enormous centipede-it's hundred legs a quivering, Tickles velvet petal with his ostentatious chivalry,
"Alas good sir!" The rose-cheeked maiden cried
I am a humble lady- bug someone else, all right?
I may be somewhat thorny, but I still have my pride.
She looked slowly from side to side and whispered:
"Come see me in the morning, I'll make your butter fly."
My darling, primrose, Oh So delectable, as mornings come and go. By that time and with my pride- I'll be leg-shabob in a perilous Gob, of worms who've sought you for their bride!!!
"...Oh my"
Insanities Confession
The damning touch of reason caresses the gentle bosom of what has become my under-world, my new reality.
A shade away from madness: it's the color of eternity.
Ancient lore I have attained: all emotion cascading into one Pounding moment of insanity.
To break into new day; the cycle of infinity.
Was I once a God? No this was God condemning me into my own catacomb of solitude- without her...
Cursed: like an hour- glass without its other half.
How can time ebb again if the glass remains in shards?
Thru the power of the will....
This house of cards, like pyramids, stands testament
Burn Burn Burn
Burn with envious passion: Envy of the contorted passion I once possessed!!
Learn no more through the wit. I am madness; finally confessed!!
Theme: Face-book and twitter and all of them critters.
Solo poem, intro
The Disgruntled User
Face-book thou hast made my contemporaries as socially awkward and politically backward as an upside down cluster of rutabagas! Oh I hear the masses cry- what the Hell is a rutabaga? Shall I inform you? Examine the picture closely- Yes see what I can do! I can make you feelest psychologically
connected to vegetables...
Face-book our relationship is a strained one,
But I Lovest thou like a hot bath in a lake of ice-cubes!
and I hatest thou as I hate the word hate,
Remind me again why a decent man needs to know- for instance, the exact measurement of a woman's teeth?
Daresay, perhaps she's a vegan vampire- sharing the recipe of the day- Rutabaga soup
Forgive me I do not Like that comment- I will not post the latest propaganda and that game is Horrific! Face-book, you have taken the beauty of my youth, and returned to me nothing but an endless strain of useless information....
Thou art an under-evolved mechanism of my dissatisfaction, but for now,
I'll Leave you on my friends list...
Welcome To the fun peeps! Post, comment, and show your ire and love for contemporary society...
Photo: Theme: Face-book and twitter and all of them critters. Solo poem, intro The Disgruntled User Face-book thou hast made my contemporaries as socially awkward and politically backward as an upside down cluster of rutabagas! Oh I hear the masses cry- what the Hell is a rutabaga? Shall I inform you? Examine the picture closely- Yes see what I can do! I can make you feelest psychologically connected to vegetables... Face-book our relationship is a strained one, But I Lovest thou like a hot bath in a lake of ice-cubes! and I hatest thou as I hate the word hate, Remind me again why a decent man needs to know- for instance, the exact measurement of a woman's teeth? Daresay, perhaps she's a vegan vampire- sharing the recipe of the day- Rutabaga soup Forgive me I do not Like that comment- I will not post the latest propaganda and that game is Horrific! Face-book, you have taken the beauty of my youth, and returned to me nothing but an endless strain of useless information.... Thou art an under-evolved mechanism of my dissatisfaction, but for now, I'll Leave you on my friends list...
Perhaps this pain, this excruciating inner, horrific pain I'am imbibed with at the moment is not for my own anguish.... No perhaps it is to learn that pain connects us- aye perhaps the reason for our shared suffering is to understand the depths by which we must have unwarranted compassion for our fellow human beings... Regardless of any preconceived notion, nuance or frailty which separates us from sheer unadulterated empathy... Dear God not only expressed through poetry, art, and words, but the action of the greatest gift one can give another and that is one's attention, and real time! Perhaps that is why we are forced into this cosmic bubble of degraded non-sense in the first place! Why we must share this mortal coil! The tragedy of Time! Aye... If we cannot pursue truth in the momentary- how could we in the infinite be anything but selfish devils! By the heavens! Love is more then feeling! It is more then orgasms and foreplay! It is more then the sick perversion of achieving one's heightened sense and forgetting the needs of the other, be they male, female, animal! Why do we hate... Why do we delve into selfishness when the greatest need of humanity is heartfelt communication... Why are we perverse and violent and empty and cold and sick when all that is needed is a tear of hope- hope that spans generations- spans religions- spans ethnicities! So may I have all the pain in the world Dear God, if I could take that pain and harbor it into something of promise, for those I love, and for all humanity...
here's another one, Not as dark, but very thought invoking.
In depth Consortium
The tragedy of my inner man is beheld not in my contempt for life, but in my inability to alter the fickle-breathe of my baised reasoning and incomplete logic.
Were I to be a syndicate-interconnected with the divine consciousness- my perception would be actual, and not re-directed by emotional events.
The conclusion of this self- examination is that of melancholy reality. It can only be assumed that the path from here is even more abstract then the morality of a sinful adulterer.
So I ponder in this state of analysis, have my feelings shrouded the compound of reliable decisions? Or shall I proceed into the depths of eternal consequence for deliberate rebellion? The answer is not apparent, and I am most distressed…
Examine me, what is it that frightens you,
Pursue me till the Gods' consume you,
I'm not here for anything but a slice of Retribution,
Like lichen on a dead birch,
Waiting to be Besmirched.
Till the Humanoid tells another anecdote,
I've got Hell's esophagus burning down my throat.
Dead mans sarcophagus incarnate devil in the moat.
Revenge so bitter it impales my taste buds
Was I reborn to forfeit life?
Or was the strife my conviction?
My passion for justice thwarts my reason.
And I am alone,
Forever.
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