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Thread: Poems in the key of KABLAM

  1. #1
    shrewd and knavish sprite flaggwalkstheline will become famous soon enough flaggwalkstheline's Avatar

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    Default Poems in the key of KABLAM

    hi ppl, im a tower junkie, the storys of SK are one the things that inspired me 2 start writing poetry though i am not so crass as to do fan-fic, I hope to get published someday, ur feedback is GREATLY appreciated, heres one of my most recent, enjoy


    Dirge for birds and other things that fly


    I can’t seem to find a wall big enough to bash my fat head against
    And I wish I was a Picasso painting so I could blame all my deformities on my maker
    The wallpaper in my head is peeling blue
    I was never a heavenly body
    I was never a phoenix
    My feet are made of lead
    (give me fire chants the meditating wannabe)
    The only type of idealized self destruction I ever needed
    Was to burn out like a neon raven fighter pilot roaring over the crash of sparrow engines
    Never being among the clouds I never had a chance to fall
    My swan dive would land in a bed of feathers when I’m expecting nails
    I’ll begin to listen to the halo of flies whisper-circling my head
    But before that fateful acceptance of smothering responsibility
    I’m going to continue spilling wine on white carpets to give them crimson meaning
    (GIVE me fire chants the meditating wannabe)
    There’s cardboard death closing in on all sides and I have forgotten how to fly
    If it means I don’t have to sit in a wheelchair named desire with snot running down my nose
    Then by all means shove me in a nice quiet coffin
    It’s not like I have anyone to talk to when I’m above-ground
    And I’m sick of hearing the clinking of martini glasses under quiet well groomed conversation between liars
    I have forgotten what breath on my neck while I slept felt like since I have almost forgotten how to breathe
    All I hear is snorting from martyred sociopaths on a podium on the tv-altar telling me to buy their words
    Well I don’t want THIS
    I say THIS spreading my arms wide enough to encompass the entire barren raped valley of tumbleweeds
    I toss lit cigarettes out the window of a fast car since they have nothing to burn beyond my flesh and lungs
    Nothing to burn in the desert beyond your own bloated ego fat and angry
    Who am I talking to again?
    Oh yes its you
    You and you and me and you and me and you are me and I chant it like a song for kids playing jump rope
    I just need to smash in stained glass windows to steal pieces for a private rainbow that’s what I need to do
    And when everything has busted the way I want it
    I might find my feathers and my face in the reflection of a shard
    I might remember how to fly again
    In the false hope moonshine baseball bat after glow of smashed hope
    (GIVE ME FIRE chants the meditating wannabe)
    If it were before me on a plate killed and cooked I could not eat the fire
    After all that’s we’d like to think was promised
    All that’s left is the fluttering screen door and a ring shaped stain on a coffee table
    Wide eyed and sick he looks up at the sky, his eyes shocked bright after being in the dark for so long
    And there in the endless blue was the unreachable fire he had lusted for all through the self imposed night

    This is the last song for birds who have forgotten how to fly
    And I will sing until my teeth bleed and I remember

  2. #2
    The Tenant Jean has a brilliant future Jean has a brilliant future Jean has a brilliant future Jean has a brilliant future Jean has a brilliant future Jean has a brilliant future Jean has a brilliant future Jean has a brilliant future Jean has a brilliant future Jean has a brilliant future Jean has a brilliant future Jean's Avatar

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    if you are going to post more poems (which I hope you are ) maybe you would like to think of another title for this thread? Think what name you would give to a collection of your poems, and tell the bear.

    Ask not what bears can do for you, but what you can do for bears. (razz)
    When one is in agreement with bears one is always correct. (mae)

    bears are back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  3. #3
    shrewd and knavish sprite flaggwalkstheline will become famous soon enough flaggwalkstheline's Avatar

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    oh well ok i hadnt even thought of this as a thread, mayb i will make a thread 4 my poems, i'll put one up a day in that case when i make it i guess this one could get lumped in there... ah lemme think hmm the thread on which i will post poetry is going to be called
    "Poems in the key of KABLAM"
    yeah thats clever
    although i wasnt quite sure that we needed much moderator help 2 start a thread...

  4. #4
    The Tenant Jean has a brilliant future Jean has a brilliant future Jean has a brilliant future Jean has a brilliant future Jean has a brilliant future Jean has a brilliant future Jean has a brilliant future Jean has a brilliant future Jean has a brilliant future Jean has a brilliant future Jean has a brilliant future Jean's Avatar

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    No, I was talking about this thread (where we are now) becoming a thread for all your other poems. I will rename it Poems in the key of KABLAM then, shall I?

    Ask not what bears can do for you, but what you can do for bears. (razz)
    When one is in agreement with bears one is always correct. (mae)

    bears are back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  5. #5
    shrewd and knavish sprite flaggwalkstheline will become famous soon enough flaggwalkstheline's Avatar

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    yes please
    if the worlds gonna end then let's get it over with, i got shit to do

  6. #6
    The Decoy Hannah has a spectacular aura about Hannah has a spectacular aura about Hannah has a spectacular aura about Hannah's Avatar

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    I absolutely loved your poem. The style, the attitude, all very eyecatching.


    please post some more.
    A true firewasp ninja would never wear such a ridiculous sweater.

    There's logic in nonsense.

    Give me all the bacon and eggs you have.

  7. #7
    shrewd and knavish sprite flaggwalkstheline will become famous soon enough flaggwalkstheline's Avatar

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    well thanku hanna, im glad u liked it, im going to try and make a habit of posting a few a week
    heres another


    mumbled battle-cry

    This place is getting small
    And I can smell impending incineration in the wind
    I know where the smoke comes from
    I didn’t want to be
    The stranger in the doorway
    Holding a flickering match between my thumb and forefinger in a pyromaniacal ok sign
    I made a choice by dropping it into your open baby bird mouth
    To set my world aflame
    After all
    Its better to be a flea crying at an open coffin than the dog being buried in the back yard

    This place is getting small
    Gotta start floating in another direction towards wherever the shore is
    Just to prove
    My blood is not mechanical
    I’ve been sleeping here too long
    Soon I could
    Start pulling the winter over my head
    A smothering blanket
    Keeping me sleeping and sleeping
    In beds in cars in houses sometimes with spouses but always sickeningly alone
    I could become like
    All the love junkies
    Sweating without the needles of the opposite genders’ eyes
    Funny though
    They’re twitching in padded rooms without an emotion they’ve never been intoxicated by
    Just told by the digital heads they should be good little hallmark addicts

    I want some sort of respite from the electric bright night
    But like I said
    I’d rather be a parasite than have them in my blood
    So its time to flee
    Before I regret feeding you that fire

    Here I am Here I am
    Writing lyrics to songs whose singers I cant understand
    Trying to explain
    MY blood is not mechanical

    I think I’ll wander the desert
    And I’ll make sure it aint gonna be biblical

    This place is getting small
    So lets go
    The engines are running smooth for now
    if the worlds gonna end then let's get it over with, i got shit to do

  8. #8
    shrewd and knavish sprite flaggwalkstheline will become famous soon enough flaggwalkstheline's Avatar

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    ok heres a BIG poem i wrote a while ago




    Sigh-a-night



    The conflict is finished
    Sad History written in books filled with dusty facts
    This burnt out husk of an idea sighs one last time
    And now here it is finally after much hype
    Truth the deified juggernaut
    Blurts out uncaring
    Chewed little words scattered across the mighty ocean on one wind only
    Questions wickedly murmured
    Should not be heard
    Especially by innocent fools
    Waiting in line to throw their pieces of mind off a cliff
    Broken and bloody by evening
    On waves and stones of eastern bone bleached seashores
    Then they pick themselves up
    Dragging their metaphorical corpses home
    And shatter again in the morning
    Aha! There it is finally!
    Half a glass of life experience
    To sip slowly like bitter medicine
    Or guzzle frantically like venomous nectar

    Nightshade lover
    Why are you a tiger?
    And why am I a crippled sparrow?
    Yet another argument
    Rocketing towards an undeniable stoplight
    Those hemlock hearts will be dust
    Brown boots thump a monotonous rhythm on the floor
    Thump one two thump three four
    Plastic echoes in a dark hallway
    I could write tonight
    An endless waxing of poetic rhetoric
    If I only had the time
    Not much left of that concept
    5 years later from 5 years ago
    We were all so much younger than now
    A house of cards in the wind
    Our ancestors carefully crafted under the gun garden
    Stumbled facedown out of the clouds
    Watering the apocalypse beanstalk with blood and hope
    Planting seeds in the rubble of cold war decades
    The fairytale giant has many names
    The god the bomb the man and the ant
    Prophecy killer spewing the future dispelling the past
    Rome wasn’t burned down in a day
    The city choked on stagnant water
    And the doctor who diagnosed the malady
    Executed
    Texas gulag style
    In the air round the electric chair
    A cigar smoke that chokes away any hope that the lights will go out
    The heroes are all in exile
    If they were here at all that is…

    No love can be found here
    Go back over the foggy highway
    Go back there is no love here
    A secret season of cold glances in the wasteland between secret sharers
    Harsher than heat radiating from suburban isolation
    I can’t feel my ego in this chill and I suspect that there is a hole where my heart used to be
    Clouds of ulcerous breath billowing from under a coat
    I am waiting
    A ferocious wind snickers ironically
    I am waiting
    For the courage to look loneliness in its’ grey sky eye
    Because my love is like the sun
    My eyes burn shut at her beauty
    My mouth closes when I try to speak
    I become a ball of string
    Always clawed at by the cat
    The corduroy swish of my unraveling
    Keeps me from reaching out out out
    Still
    I wait
    Mixing reality and fantasy in flights of lunatic hope
    Under the light of two heavens
    The first heaven is black
    The second heaven is a field of glaring light posts
    Electric flowers humming under a desert of starshine
    A noise like meditating monks waiting fro enlightenment

    Go back there is only fear
    Leave no trace of your muddy boots on the clean marble floor
    There is no love anymore

    The ancestral gardens’ rose wilts
    Black and white photo daisies grown in cabinets
    Children sprout from under the house
    Here we are in the ruins of our fathers’ living rooms
    Paved over their fathers’ cities
    Built over their fathers’ fields
    Plundered from their fathers castles
    You and I old and frozen
    All grown up up up
    Not quite able to touch paradise
    A child who sat in the mud of a daffodil forest
    Now carefully crouches in a suit and tie
    They built a city here once
    Balanced on money tree branches
    All those crowds of tax payers and tax evaders
    Cautious not to step on a crack
    Regularly reminded by mommy with her crumply back
    That everything has already happened so there is nothing to worry about at all
    They built the idea so tall
    That it took a generation for falling cement to smash the babies on the ground floor
    Remember that head cold music?
    Remember how those scarlet lips would smile
    On interstate 25 after another cliché overdue end of this journey
    I said I would swallow every bullet
    In the name of a yet unknown passion
    I’ll chew all the bullets
    But I won’t forget
    Gaunt idealist shadow prophets skitter like tumbleweeds
    One foot after another
    Heavy marathons to madness in search of some mysterious redemption
    They reach the noose at the end of their rainbows
    Briefly gazing across shuddering rooftops
    Charred mountains towering over starved crops
    Clinking tombstone piano keys in an inkfog sunset
    Looked over Jordan and saw the promised end
    Beckoned to the sickness
    By razor cold immortal instinct
    No turning tragic eyes back from silver keyholes in cold rooms
    Once you have a look
    And see the nothing in my secret heart and hidden hands
    Her warm face filled with ice and malice
    Don’t leave me now
    Not when the hopeful music is bleeding so loudly
    Harpsichord smashed
    Hourglass empty
    Soda top popped
    I whistle reality away in a room full of windows

    The heavens are churning in my head but I still got nothin’

    A wise tool knows not how he has become the gun
    Unable to control the barbarian crash
    When his trigger is pulled by a well manicured hand
    But if a less informed individual were to lift aside the curtain
    They would see an endless mirrored aisle
    The flute of primitive rituals pipes from an unknown doorway
    The entertainers are trapped
    Not in grotesque masks
    Only humanity grinning in glorious neglect
    A question marked future
    The wise mind repeats the mantra
    I am not a clockwork monkey marching off to pray
    Prey is what you are
    A fiddle played by skilled hands
    Prey to be hunted down by bomb happy apes
    I don’t want them to know
    That I know the truth
    Heaven has been dead for a million millennia
    Milky ghosts spat through the void
    Sunlight is also a graveyard myth
    Hanging meat hook like
    Above a three mile island in the night
    Two ships sinking in an endless sea of ripped paper
    None of them will ever know it was me
    I am not a clockwork monkey marching off to pray
    Yet I do pray
    That I myself
    Will not turn out
    To be lying
    Belly up in the fish tank with everyone else
    Silence is memory is pain is war is love is memory
    Her smile was a beautiful virus
    Sunlight splashes dead hot in a goodbye kiss
    Starlight buried deep under gold flecked retinas
    Does Anyone else remember what it is to feel?
    The dishwater sadness
    Crept in like lukewarm fog
    Coinciding with the realization that I am not a clockwork monkey marching off to pray
    Came the ragged wheezing smoker cough sense of despair
    Vaguely viewed as a shadow in the rain drops
    At 5 o’clock in the evening
    Expectant fingers drumming on a table
    Or warming briefly in an oven
    After all that cold
    Waiting for the go ahead to go home again home again home again home again HA
    Home
    Is just a place to go when all else fails
    Luckily open are not open again
    Predicting my failure
    The kitchen is closed GET OUT stay hungry go philosophized elsewhere

    The cosmos are spinning in my head
    But I still got nothin’

    It all went sour when the laughter stopped
    Oh we had a blast before
    The smartest idiots in the room me & my buddies
    Feasting and drunken on giggles
    It was as if a faucet turned off
    And the ocean flowed normal once more
    Coming down from a ha ha high
    Every one followed a different realization back home
    So now
    (even though now is forever of course)
    In the early hours when every breath is a jetfire boom
    And metaphors march like mickeys’ brooms
    And sleep the symphony that starts with starlight is preparing to sweep me away
    Perhaps
    I’ll stare a t a picture of a girl on my cell phone
    Trying to will her to call me
    ‘cause I don’t have the courage to call her
    And say
    “I just wanted to hear your voice my sweet mona lisa on digital”
    I can’t say that oh no
    Then I might sound like a crazy person
    Like the doctor in the electric chair licking an opium lolly pop said
    “this self destructive behavior is self destructive”
    Like the not CRAZY me said
    Pop a happy pill doc they’re about to flick your switch

    The universe is turning in my head but I still
    Am nothing

    Its’ nearly over now
    The infant that failed to drown has grown old and sick
    The ethereal tulip has not blossomed
    Deep dusk-lit forest pines beckon the last beast in the land
    Not me of course
    I am too busy playing prophet
    Telling you
    The twilight of the new gods is at hand!
    And Siegfried the farmer has known the never
    His old world agent orange orchard
    Once ripe with wonder
    All the fruit is rotted to the center
    Unable to recall the exact story of his glory
    He screams through eyes glued shut
    The eye is far louder than the mouth
    Spinning and spitting in a fever
    Sleep that won’t leave at daytime
    If I had a real picture of some one near to my heart
    I would turn it face down
    So that alexandras’ lips kissed a nightstand
    She held me in the water above the ocean orchestra
    And it was blue and bright
    They played jazz smooth and right though the night
    And then I woke in darkness
    I woke in silence
    I miss the old stories
    Because I remember less and less
    Stop it Stop it!
    I know they tore the old empire down brick by cancerous brick
    I know the snow queen lies melting In the desert
    A cruel sun firing her kiln
    The snow queen refuses to smolder
    Banished by her cruel son for her cruelty
    He will become give him time and hate he will become
    He has become
    I’ll leave all this behind
    Illuminated closer than it appears
    A rear view mirror remembers the end of the book
    The slamming of the tales last page
    A middle finger turned behind me
    Ends it a sit should end




    Now at a crossroads
    Two equally menacing paths
    One of which needs to jumped on
    Still denying the untruths truth

    I chewed all the bullets
    But I could not withstand the storm
    So I ran
    But did not forget
    I chewed all the bullets
    But could not stand the storm
    So I ran
    With feet like hammer strokes
    I ran
    But did not forget
    A middle finger turned behind me ends it as it should end
    if the worlds gonna end then let's get it over with, i got shit to do

  9. #9
    shrewd and knavish sprite flaggwalkstheline will become famous soon enough flaggwalkstheline's Avatar

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    ok well nobodys responding but their r views on this page so im gonna post another one heres my most recent


    High
    High in the mountains
    High above the ant farm city
    High
    Where air exhales inhaled dust and frost on moss bearded cliffs
    There is
    A white tree
    In the shade of a grey walled echoing canyon
    The first time I saw it from distance
    I was in awe of the shining white tree
    A beacon bright as a snowy mirror
    An indigenous Excalibur planted straight into the naked rock
    But when I completed my pilgrimage
    And ran my eyes along its trunk
    My hope fell like so much yarn from a spool
    The White tree is dead, anemic, bloodless and skinned
    Carved by passionate vultures
    A hundred declarations of young affection
    Most of the hands who bit things like jake love tina into the bark
    Are now older and wrinkled having cast their wedding rings out with the coffee grounds years ago
    Their nightmares are of the fingers they once held not the tree they recorded their youth upon
    My fingers go in circles all along the places where messages were chopped and Im baffled
    Im sure that if I had a name to put in a carved heart with mine
    I wouldnt feel the urge to mutilate something beautiful
    At least not for a while
    if the worlds gonna end then let's get it over with, i got shit to do

  10. #10
    shrewd and knavish sprite flaggwalkstheline will become famous soon enough flaggwalkstheline's Avatar

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    A love song in grey

    Dear whats-her-face,
    How have you been?
    I’m just writing to tell you I’m about to forget
    But there is still a chance
    To be a voice in my head
    There’s room to mumble in a dream
    I can try not to forget you at first
    But one day I’ll wake up with a head more empty than the previous night
    I want to lie with you but not to you on a bridge of moonlight and tell you processed pesticide clichés
    We could pretend that for a single blue minute we’re different from everyone else
    Movers and Fakers
    Shakers and heartbreakers
    They drive home drunk after funerals because it seems like the best way to honor the dead

    The two of us are too sad to care about anyone but ourselves
    A self-enlightened idiot once told me love’s an ocean you gotta be willing to drown in
    But we just sputter, dog paddle and collapse safely on the shore
    I stole all my laughter from both a seashell and a machine
    The softest voices I know
    Come bubbling from underneath the escalators in a shopping mall
    All this laughter was stolen
    I stood in the middle of a crowd laughing
    Laughing until tears ran down my face and I feel to the floor clutching my gut
    There are people with purpose in their footsteps striding on and on
    None of them stop to either see what’s so funny or why I’m lying on the floor sobbing
    I knew a joke but forgot it, now there is only the need to hold onto the punch line before it’s washed away
    Liquid faces swirl and turn
    Professional flesh hurricanes battering on a shore where I once found a whispering shell
    I haven’t been there in years but I can taste the saltwater from all my placebo tears and it tastes like the sea
    Anyway, I’ve rambled enough, call me up some time when I’m asleep
    Your friend,
    About to forget
    if the worlds gonna end then let's get it over with, i got shit to do

  11. #11
    shrewd and knavish sprite flaggwalkstheline will become famous soon enough flaggwalkstheline's Avatar

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    Antarctica is my erotic dream

    Sometimes
    When I’m floating asleep
    I dream about walking in a snowy place
    An Antarctic-marble violin-winded breathless coldscape
    I walk through it calm, nude and unashamed
    Burning through the snow like a meteorite
    Called onward and warmed
    By the whisper and hum of your voice
    Promising inaudible heat
    Pushing soft steam on my neck
    I trudge onward melting all I touch
    Your hands brush the frost from my cheek
    That’s when I usually wake feeling brittle and carved from ice
    I am far more frozen
    Here in my undercooked burnt on the outside
    Refrigerated reality
    I would gladly freeze and shatter
    If it meant we were together
    if the worlds gonna end then let's get it over with, i got shit to do

  12. #12
    shrewd and knavish sprite flaggwalkstheline will become famous soon enough flaggwalkstheline's Avatar

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    Conversations with strangers


    My sigh stretches long as a shadow
    I an taste the meat rotting between my teeth
    And my laughter is the wheezing of crows
    But enough of this narcissistic analysis
    Let's talk about you
    Sweetheart
    if the worlds gonna end then let's get it over with, i got shit to do

  13. #13
    shrewd and knavish sprite flaggwalkstheline will become famous soon enough flaggwalkstheline's Avatar

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    The search


    Marginalized
    Cauterized
    I am walking around with my brain cut off at the knees
    You and your ancestors failed to find enlightenment
    Defiled, paid for and whored out
    The 20th century was one quest for it after another each ending in
    genocide (whisper it like a name of god)
    I can’t grow the wise beard
    Not with razors or literature
    Nor through the corrupt mumbles of dead geniuses
    Saint paul and plato
    Were plagiarist puppet masters
    Their hands up the asses of their dead masters’ ideas
    Being violated in turn on down through the ages
    By their pupils and their pupils’ pupils
    Expanding and contracting in the light of flashbulb cities
    You couldn’t find it in speeches by self-made millionaire madmen standing on mountains of corpses
    Which when sifted through
    Offer no solution
    You can’t have a golden thumb until you stop tapping it expectantly
    Waiting to understand what the vulture meant
    When it held a blue flower in its’ beak but did not speak initially

    “I’m just greedy for knowing but at least I’m aware of it so I can’t be too gangrenous yet right?”

    A bitter taste of bad brown murdered apple floods my mouth
    Made worse by a hope for something sweet

    The vulture counts his coins

    Not found in the intravenous electric shot of liquor
    Given by television, telephones and the false infinity of the internet
    And its’ churches of pornographic self-help spoonfed forcefed dollar-deitys
    No sweetness found in the invisible worth of coins placed in gleaming stacks
    As substitute souls
    The vulture told me
    “All this is a struggle between two cancerous afterlives, 2 ponts of view
    Walt Disney in heaven with riot police and cameras on every street corner
    and Charles Bukowski soaking up Hells’ hot tub cigar in one hand, pistol in the other”.

    I don’t believe a word those bastards say with their Sunday church and Friday golf games and Tuesday press conferences and November elections

    The vulture counts his quarters

    Not found by casting aside your rags and standing naked and defiant on the railroad tracks
    Safe and sure that someone will pull you aside before
    The fabled locomotive roars and charges like asn endangered species you thought you extinguished

    “There’s something you should know
    When we played Russian roulette and you thought “He has IT!”
    I laughed since I had removed all the bullets”

    No chance of being hit by the train but it still feels brave to be on the tracks

    The vulture counts his coins

    You won’t find any hidden wisdom scribbled on the wall of a cave
    Everyone after HD Thorough doing that is just a Unabomber-esque wannabe
    If you craft words that are strong, words of fire, words of Earth
    The vulture will take them and wallow in their decay

    I think that
    As soon as you are able to give up trying to torture divinity from its’ graffiti covered shell
    You may find it more easily
    Until then

    I’ll count my coins
    if the worlds gonna end then let's get it over with, i got shit to do

  14. #14
    shrewd and knavish sprite flaggwalkstheline will become famous soon enough flaggwalkstheline's Avatar

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    Momentary lapse of cynicism?


    Girl in a white dress
    Plastic bag colored
    Barefoot in the dirt
    Swirling before my sickly eyes
    Our hands and eyes pass bye
    Clouds in a dad blue sky
    if the worlds gonna end then let's get it over with, i got shit to do

  15. #15
    shrewd and knavish sprite flaggwalkstheline will become famous soon enough flaggwalkstheline's Avatar

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    Somwhere
    Grey and silent as a monastery floor
    A chalkmark has been scraped
    Drawn into
    My shape
    I know this while clenching my hands in empty coat pockets
    I watch headlights wink as if making a private mechanical jest in darkness
    Somewhere up the road

    everything I ever wanted
    Flies by with blazing eyes
    Heatseeking-missile kisses meant for someone else

    A white outline is sketched on the sidewalk near a building
    Cold Island in a colder sea
    That’s me
    And that’s the machine

    The scraping keeps me awake
    if the worlds gonna end then let's get it over with, i got shit to do

  16. #16
    shrewd and knavish sprite flaggwalkstheline will become famous soon enough flaggwalkstheline's Avatar

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    A dream I can barely remember

    I should have known right then…
    Because of the way that hand held that glass
    From which I drank deep
    And who it was who offered it
    Corrupting cancer liquid spreads
    Blackening the sky like butter on bread
    I should have known right then…
    How all the eyes that were not there to stare
    I only realized something changed
    After standing with a smoking gun in one hand and a remote control that had no batteries in the other
    Atop the very narrow pyramid
    Dressed in the tattered clothing of an enemy
    The wind pushed me off with a karmic snicker
    And I saw all of them on the wider levels of the system
    Wandering with full bellies through grocery store aisles lined with dumpsters filled with food they didn’t eat
    And oh how I fell
    Burnt tie flapping up above me in a ludicrous goodbye
    To the ever widening sky
    No noose to save me this time
    I knew where I would land
    Somewhere with a thud in the dirt
    Among many telephone poles which stick like unwrapped but unused cowboy crucifixes
    Stuck in the ground like the monkey king
    I only realized then with a quiet scream
    That the cup I drank form
    Was tainted
    if the worlds gonna end then let's get it over with, i got shit to do

  17. #17
    Servant of Gan Aaron is on a distinguished road Aaron's Avatar

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    Very stream of consciousness. It reminded me of Bret Easton Ellis. Not so much American Psycho Ellis, but kind of Rules of Attraction. The voice you use is perfect for really hard-hitting prose writing; a brand of writing I don't see enough of.

    Good stuff
    Heng Dai

  18. #18
    shrewd and knavish sprite flaggwalkstheline will become famous soon enough flaggwalkstheline's Avatar

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    thanx I really try to hit hard
    I've actually never read any of ellis, ive seen the movie of american psycho though
    probably the writer I try to emulate (read sound similar to yet still be very different from) is either WS Merwyn or Kenneth Rexroth
    if the worlds gonna end then let's get it over with, i got shit to do

  19. #19
    shrewd and knavish sprite flaggwalkstheline will become famous soon enough flaggwalkstheline's Avatar

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    Another exorcism for Alexandra


    I still dream of your smile
    I doubt that you think of mine
    It’s been such a long time since I heard you laugh or held your hand
    Yet
    If we were to meet on some avenue scarred with potholes like the pockmarks that used to be on my face
    I would stammer and look at my shoes just like the child I was
    I wish that the strange force which keeps the smell of your hair fresh in my mind
    Would carry me away like the tide
    To a sandy beach
    Where I am free from wanting you
    if the worlds gonna end then let's get it over with, i got shit to do

  20. #20
    shrewd and knavish sprite flaggwalkstheline will become famous soon enough flaggwalkstheline's Avatar

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    I’m indoors at my pc bathing in it’s electric glow
    Listening to punk rock and watching the data flow
    In fact I really don’t care that its now starting to snow

    ‘cause a cold day lasts forever when you’re unemployed and bored
    Yeah
    A cold day lasts forever when your head is nothing but empty space
    Yeah
    A cold day lasts forever when you’ve got youth to waste

    Now the snow is piling higher and the sky is really grey
    And I’m still sitting here typing and downloading my mind away
    I don’t have any friends but I still think that’s ok
    Cause whenever I had friends they never liked me anyway


    Now how long I’ve been sitting here I’m really not sure
    But when I started this poem I was 16 years old
    And I was forcing myself to rhyme just because it seemed so bold
    But I’m fuckin’ sick of rhyming and I think

    That here’s where I’m gonna stop talking about everything I like to talk about because even I stopped caring
    Years ago
    Cause if I’m not careful I’ll still be prostrating myself before a machine when I’m fifty
    And my hair will be white just like ice
    Dandruff dropping on the keyboard just like snow upon the ground of December 2008
    All because I though it was okay
    To wait

    ‘cause cold days last forever when you’ve got time to spare
    Yeah
    A cold day lasts forever when you’ve got no sense of time
    Yeah
    A cold day lasts forever when your pockets are only deep because it takes so long to find

    That you’ve got no change to spare no time to throw away and too much food to eat in one sitting

    Because cold days last forever when you’re unemployed and bored
    if the worlds gonna end then let's get it over with, i got shit to do

  21. #21
    shrewd and knavish sprite flaggwalkstheline will become famous soon enough flaggwalkstheline's Avatar

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    ok this poem I just wrote is comprised of 2 vertically written simple statements/ poems and 1 horizontal (IE normal) poem connecting them I'd never done this before, very exciting

    The song she sang was the sweetest
    Thing I have ever heard I think of it as a mournful bird
    Which I realize now
    Is useless, sad,
    Wrong because I can never show you how sweet her singing
    Is I can only scribble about it and you will think of
    Me to be a coward for never learning how to keep away the silence
    if the worlds gonna end then let's get it over with, i got shit to do

  22. #22
    shrewd and knavish sprite flaggwalkstheline will become famous soon enough flaggwalkstheline's Avatar

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    hmm there were supposed to be spaces between the first word and last words of each line and the middle parts
    when I cut n pasted it they were there and when I go to edit it they are there again
    oh well the extra parts are still in it, just maddeningly subtle without the spaces
    if the worlds gonna end then let's get it over with, i got shit to do

  23. #23
    Weedeater BROWNINGS CHILDE is a jewel in the rough BROWNINGS CHILDE is a jewel in the rough BROWNINGS CHILDE is a jewel in the rough BROWNINGS CHILDE is a jewel in the rough BROWNINGS CHILDE's Avatar

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    As to hard hitting prose, It reminds me of Dennis Leary

  24. #24
    shrewd and knavish sprite flaggwalkstheline will become famous soon enough flaggwalkstheline's Avatar

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    dennis leary? the comdian on that tv show about firemen? I didnt know he wrote poetry...
    hmmm
    if the worlds gonna end then let's get it over with, i got shit to do

  25. #25
    The Decoy Hannah has a spectacular aura about Hannah has a spectacular aura about Hannah has a spectacular aura about Hannah's Avatar

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    Quote Originally Posted by flaggwalkstheline View Post
    ok this poem I just wrote is comprised of 2 vertically written simple statements/ poems and 1 horizontal (IE normal) poem connecting them I'd never done this before, very exciting

    The song she sang was the sweetest
    Thing I have ever heard I think of it as a mournful bird
    Which I realize now
    Is useless, sad,
    Wrong because I can never show you how sweet her singing
    Is I can only scribble about it and you will think of
    Me to be a coward for never learning how to keep away the silence
    I like this one. I like the style. It's different, interesting.
    A true firewasp ninja would never wear such a ridiculous sweater.

    There's logic in nonsense.

    Give me all the bacon and eggs you have.

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