I am sandless for in the end there was no sand,
There was no sand in which to lay,
There was no sand in which to dig.
I had hearts filled with air in which I layed,
And there were hummingbees in which to dig.
There was no sand.
I had looked under the ocean, only to find rock,
I had looked in the caves, only to find bears.
I had no sand in which to fish from,
So I ate the animals I caught underneath the rocks,
I fought off the animals from high in the darklit sky,
Which spouted hail and tornadoes once a night.
There was no sand.

These days we die a little every day,
Our addiction is like a slow-motion suicide,
We abort our life mission for a subtle little second of nothingness.
A giant has arisen from the smoke of happiness,
It's cancer decays and destroys everything it touches.
A self-destruction love hamper threatens our very being,
It's penis of hate penetrates our spiritual vagina,
It dry humps us into slow death.
A crazy, psycho with wet hair, wearing a grey sweater will eat your babies.

uhh...

your symbolism has completely lost me. sorry.

interesting, though...

Thank you Jarekk, your my favorite poet here, I've read all your poems and the only thing that bothers me is that you have four stars, I really don't understand why you don't have 5 but w/e keep up the good work.

Darkness spills from under the old church,
Where Venus spreads her arms open and,
Pictures I hold against my heart,
Begin to feel like pain and hurt.
It's just a little hard being sik, sik simon,
Who you say? Nothing of your busy business,

Sacrifice a limb, sacrifice a leg,
You make the blood spill all across the floor,
You sacrifice an arm, sacrifice a life,
I will be the light I seek tonight boy

I seek light with a capitol T
I seek the fuckers, would you fuck with me?
I seek the future, I seek the past
Right now, right here, I'm ready for anything

I don't give a goddamn shit about anybody but me
I don't give a damn cause a God has damned me here
Oblivious, sin in surreal insurrection
Fiery, unhappy little nymph nodes, fuck off bitch
I'm a no woman kind of guy
Cause she is my only nothing
Yes she is my only nothing

I used to bleed and cuss the sky out
I used to make believe I was a vampire
I used to paint my nails so black
I used to breathe this human air

I watched the sun rise....

I watched the moon die....

Hoping to grasp the lies,
Hoping to embrace the stars,
Little bitty piece of me sits seething,
But every other inch of me is in insanity

I pick scabs that I shouldn't have picked
I cut holes that I shouldn't have cut
I punch guys and slap bitches
Twenty-four hours a day I'm drunker than shit

God, or my god, how do you plead?
Do you accept this down on your knees?
Do you bleed all the while I seethe,
What is the key to this infectious disease?

really? wow, thank you.

heh, the four stars is my doing. the star system wasn't around for long, but during the time it was i would rate the thread with a 1 whenever i posted anything. looking back, it was kind of stupid...


anyway, i'm much better able to understand your latest poem. the anger is very personal, which makes it very rich and striking. those are good qualities, i think, and i'd like to see where you go from here.

Superficial dreams,
A girl that time can't destroy,
Every moment without your voice,
Leaves me feeling not ok,
What do I have to do to hear your voice again?
I've been sitting here upset,
Wish you didn't leave me hanging here,
Cause I never got my closure,
So I destroy myself until you suddenly appear to me

Bloody fists brought me no solace,
Broken fingers ring in hurt and,
Wishing fingers away,
Here we sit, wishing broken fingers gone
We don't need no PINK FLOYD education
We don't need no PINK FLOYD thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom mother PINK FLOYDER
Teachers leave those mother PINK FLOYDING kids alone
All in all your just another tower that falls,
All in all your just another face I can maul

Dark, and windy night, when ghouls emerge from the ground
The year is unimportant, but it lies in the past
Sages walk the streets, they know when they will be attacked,
It is not when that is important to them but why.
A ghoul flies out from a trash can, mouth agape with broken teeth
It bears down on the sage, but the sage sidesteps out of it's way
"Ha." he cries, as he shoves a bolt of lightning into the embodiment of the dead.
The ghoul flies across the landscape, 10 feet, 20 feet, 30 feet, and then it lands with a crash.
What is left of the nightmarish dead twitches and moves, and the ghouls all gather around to feast on it's remains.

vivid, and descriptive. you paint a great picture...

though, it seems less poetic than your other posts.


i think this one is the best so far:

I really like all of these, but I didn't like how the imagery and metaphors lessened in number the further down the poems went, some of the swearing could've been replaced with other metaphors (the sex one made me grin purely for it's originality). But, I get where you were going with this, so I'll just say something like the poems show how towards the end the person who's perspective you're writing from went further into insanity or anger and so was more vocal about their annoyances. Keep it up (and if you work keeping it up into another metaphor with the penis, I'll give you a cookie).

I regrow my conscience, regeneratively,
And in this expansion, my mind reminds me,
That I am unconscious, my words are untold,
My secrets and lies remain anonymous hand signs.
Repeating in my mind, a spectrum in full,
It fades into nothing, and ever so sweetly,
Awakens me deeply, and so I arise,
And what is upon me, defies my beliefs.
I look across dark halls, and down by a window,
There sits a high priest, contained by his own words,
He lies in positions I'd never concieve of,
And whispers in tongues I would never have dreamed up.
I reach for the handrail, and walk to the priest and,
When he sees me he disappears into nothing,
I stared at loss then, I stared at the window,
If I said I was dreaming, I'd be a liar and sane now.

let it be known that this is not an original work of art. no part of this or part of anything I write is copywritten by me. I am a schitzephrenic, sorry if I offended you, please understand that schitzephrenia is a confusing mental disease and do not take my words or works seriously in any way, this is like a scratch pad.

If I offend you please respond accordingly so that I can see what humanity considers wrong. Thank you.

you offended someone?

sort of

Absence

Wish upon an air conditioner,
Lay my eggs inside of it.
Find me on the carpet,
Hands and knees, looking for some substance.
Softened eyes are spilling water,
Out unto the bedroom floor.
Twisted mouth is spewing laughter,
Echoed sounds destroy the silence.
Demon stench dispels my angels,
Can't forget my methadone.
Children walk outside my window,
Jealousy invades my brain.
Sun of sickened dreams within me,
Dies, explodes, gives birth to hate.
Jesus, jesus, i've betrayed you,
I'm the one with poisoned arrows.
Sacred light under the soil,
Bleeds into me, makes me seethe.

Staring into space

What is it like to forget?
Acquire information and I hold onto it.
I understand the beliefs,
But I don't believe them until I see them again.
To look at a demon, peer into eyes that are fire and death,
A dog from the depths, his fire is blue,
He speaks in a tongue that only I can decode.
And his aura is a fiery black, like the sun behind the moon.

i agree completely. it's one thing to be able to write a good poem and feel good about it, but it's another to write a great poem and let other people feel good about it too.

Well thank you guys very much, your comments aren't merely inspiration, they are energy and confidence.