I never knew your name,
but I would have guessed
it was the same as the dog
who fished you from the river
when you were three. I’d imagine,
to this day, he still waits for you
at the gates, not much to do, nipping
the asphodels from the ash. I wonder
sometimes, on those hours
when the vacancy is at its all time high,
does he sleep? Does he dream? Does he try
to remember the days when hell
was just a small hole in the ground?
I want to know what is the world
on his shoulder? How does fire
spill from his mouth? Are the flames bile?
Is the bile blood? And is this all, some way,
a form of grief? I have never died,
so I could not know. But if I did,
I would breathe fire for you
and speak of smoke all the same,
even though, my name is Ocean.
I love you like the burning
of a world gone mad loves
the ashes of the pyramids and
the husks of the collossus and
when I dream I dream of
my blue haired psychopath god
laying with me in the rubble
of the great wall-
I love you like the dying of
the brightest star; like a black
hole loves the light and brings
it near from afar and when
I scream I scream in rage,
rage, rage, RAGE against
the fear of the dying of the last
blue dawn on a horizon that's cast
against a backdrop of man on machine
suicide love notes etched into the
ashes of the pyramids and when
I DREAM-
I dream of my blue haired psy-
chopath god and the breaking
down of all the walls and all the
towers and I dream of my collossus
and I rage at a husk and I would
burn down the world
to give you the ashes
Ouch.
I made a joke..
One that didn't set well with a certain bloke.
I was banned for a week, but now set free!
Oh, how 7-day suspension killed me.
Not able to write poetry, not able to vote.
Not even able to discuss the mass spoilers afloat!
It's nice to be back, I suppose.
Although my poetry sucks, it's more fun than typical prose.
The Fence in Heaven
Remember when we fell for each other way back in school?
When things were so easy, when we'd play it cool,
When we'd meet at the corner of Oak and Chase,
When I'd run for miles in the rain just to see your pretty face.
And remember when I wiped the tears that you cried?
When you felt so alone when your daddy died,
And remember our talks and our fights and our dances,
The risks that we took when we did not know the chances
Or consequences of our silly actions and love
Because we left everything to fate and the stars above.
And remember that fence I mentioned to you?
In Ms. Drum's class, remember the picture I drew?
The one of a white picket fence in a field
That our two different religions used as a shield
To bar lovers like us from loving after our death
So we wouldn't again taste the other's sweet breath,
But I promised that I'd be waiting for you
At that fence up in heaven, I promised, it's true.
Because I do not believe in "'Til death do us part"
There's nothing divine that would keep us apart.
And I'd tear down the fence just to hold your hand
And I'd let heaven above know where I'd stand
Its with you my darling, with you my love,
That's all we need, all we need is our love.
Although my poetry sucks, it's more fun than typical prose.
No Fun Allowed
Fun, prose, there should be no distinction
poesy is the deciphering of the waters of life
as they flow past rock, tree, hill,
at every obstacle it splashes
and moves on
in celebration
Celebrate, have fun, be free
revel in your life and in your poetical discourse;
old men in suits: the proper 'academia'
would leech the life from art
literary vampires
sustaining intellectual dictatorship
being emotional's such a big deal
crying and dying and whining and screaming
and bleeding inside, or being dramatic
to die - an expression! -
to say "it's so tragic"
i'd die if i could guarantee
the end of my own misery,
but that's not what being emo seems to be
what whiners!
complain endlessly
of things that others clam up about until those others jump off bridges and let everyone see what they feel without talking
with passive-aggressive
gestures
so i vent in endless contortions
yell my thoughts from metaphorical roofs
or fears from the edge
it's so messy, so uncouth
but it's not like i can stop feeling (is it? wish it?)
so what would you have us do?
i don't "identify" as emo or hipster
but to question yourself and yell at the top of your lungs
to listen to fiona apple say that the pain comes in like a second skeleton
is to hear yourself at times and
my heart's
so full
of parts
it's bursting at the seams
and my hopes and dreams impossible -
my fears immense, plans pointless
to say nothing of the sex
we are so small and useless
nothing to be done
when fate (that doesn't exist)
"thinks it's going to have some fun"
and that trap of rhyming nonsense
that catch of yelling anything
that comes into my mouth
as long as it sounds good
as long as it tastes good
i don't care
and i care so very much that i'll do anything to not
that feeling when something is rising up from deep within you and all you can do is scream, it's not tangible, just a small nugget of knowledge that you will never be satisfied in this world
my mouth is full of winsome lies -
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
Sometimes I dream
Of a different reality
But then I wake,
Into the true cold reality
Of me being alone
In my bed
Blocking out the voices in my head
Telling me to write a note,
To make a jump,
In to the next step
Of the circle of life
dripping pipes
in the rain
seeping through the rusted metal
i held the pipe and cried against it
my tears mixed with the iron and became hard
hands cut and stinging
the hard brick of the alley behind me
a downpour
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
my mouth is full of winsome lies -
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
I once met a girl with a smile so bright
It shone like a lighthouse in the night,
And when she laughed my heart would skip a beat.
So we talked and talked of silly things,
Like how I danced and the way she sings
In a voice so off key, it hardly sounded neat.
One evening we went off into the dark
And found an old oak tree to carve our mark
As lovers in our youth that were meant to be.
All summer long we would both sing and dance
And love each other like lovers in a trance.
Come summer's end, I got down on one knee.
That's when I said, "My dear sweet Cassidy,
In my heart I know you're the one for me.
Now darling, will you take this shiny ring?"
And as her hair blew in the summer breeze
Her eyes tear'd up and she said, "Darling, please,
It pains me to tell you of such a thing,
And I hope someday you will understand
That you truly are a sincere man,
But something says you're not the one for me."
So I said, "Sweet Cassidy, what do you mean?
After all of the things we've done and seen,
Are you saying that we're not meant to be?"
And she said, "Yes, that is what I mean,
Nick, I have to admit and come out clean
And tell you why I cannot accept this ring.
You see, darling, I truly love you so
But I must leave you here, I want to go
See the world, from London to Beijing.
And somewhere out there there will be a man
As curious as I am, who will take my hand
And travel 'round this entire world with me."
So I said, "Darling, I can be that man
Who'll travel 'round this world and take your hand
And as lovers, we would see things differently."
Then I saw teardrops falling from her eyes
As she said "Nick, I truly would despise
To see a world only as lovers see,
Because the world is such a pretty thing,
And it wouldn't be as pretty with this ring.
I want to see this world naturally.
As a soul not bound by the bonds of love,
So when I look up to those stars above
I'll know that I am me, and that I'm free."
She turned her back and walked away from me
While I was still down on one knee,
That's when I realized, when I began to see
That she loves life so much more than me
That this was how it is meant to be.
And as she left I said, "Goodbye, Cassidy,
"Send postcards, pictures of where you'll be
So I can see the places you will see
It'll be like we're there together, you and me,"
But she said, "No, that's not how it will be.
You've got your own life to live and world to see
Because you and I will see things differently."
So then ten years had gone by and passed
Since the summer I had seen Cassidy last,
And my wife had brought to me the day's mail.
To my surprise I found a postcard for me
On it was a picture of a crystal sea,
And there stood Cassidy, on a boat and sail.
I saw her happy face and that bright smile,
And all the card said was, "It's been awhile,"
And "I hope that life has treated you well."
Then I couldn't help but reminisce and sigh
And, as if speaking to Cassidy, my reply
Was "Life, indeed, has treated me well."
A pig's skin through uprights.
Such a simple thing; such a
Simple flick of god's finger
Such a little coin toss
Of all anguish and all joy
And all hope and all burn-
ing or infinite rage-
Such a little thing-
The Trajectory of Dreams.
The Flight Path of Redemption
And how!
And how can six seconds-
The last two of them, even-
Re-enact the falling of the
Tower of Babel? The burn-
ing of Rome? How can every
Great tragedy of man; how can
Every tear and wound and
sin be made reproduced by
sixty minutes on a hundred
yards of over priced
Grass?
Such a little thing.
A change in numbers.
Such a little thing.
Just a trophy.
Such a little thing;
The breath of a city, held in
Anticipation for the choice of
Mother Nature herself; the
Very Judgement of the winds-
A ten mile an hour hurricane
to bat away the ages and hallow
or undo the monuments of
Eleven mousy men.
Such a little thing.
The Trajectory of Hope.
The Flight Path of Tragedy.
The Rise and Fall of one Ball-
One ball-
One course for the rest of our lives.
death lurks quiet in the background of everything
brittle old bones and disfigured meandering
(purposefully misinterpreting meanings)
i dreamt i was myself under pale skies
with two others holding hands beside(s) me
i wanted, i watched - above all i abided
and suns set forever blissfully
rest my pale head under indigo waves,
be one person in pride and another in shame.
a freezing of thought like the enlightenment;
enlightened minds make suicidal bliss ...
in dreams, i pretend to be everyone else
let my brain run wild - what a terrible master
i defy logic but i shattered the self
let the scalpel cut deep and the scars last forever
let the plastic run hot and the burns spread like wildfire
it's not logic, but it feels like the cusp
of an answer to something
my mouth is full of winsome lies -
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
~ The Untouchable ~
Floating along the gentle stream, the lily glides and dances around the whorls and rocks, moving ever forward, she is untouchable. She flies continually, never giving heed to the world around her. The branches reach out to hold her, and the frogs seek her refuge of peace for a time, but still she moves on, untouchable. through mires, over snakes that beg her to stay, the lily is floating ever on, rain can't sink her, and wind can't stop her, but with her momentum taking hold, danger looms. She reaches for branches and begs for the frogs and snakes to slow her decent, but they are far behind her now. She slips ever forward and swiftly dances over the waterfall, and dances again but through the air, ever faster now and she is untouchable.
I'm new to the thread, I'm not really sure how to make this more aesthetically pleasing, but hopefully this works
I want to step out
night air chilling skin
wet wood slats freeze my bare feet
the house was so ordered
and the world is roiling
winds obey no master
tossing my hair, possessed
I open my eyes
and my vision closes
carried by zephyrs skyward
gliding past trees, dark giants
leaping over frost fields
skimming the near-still waters
rising to unconquered domains
the goddamn lamp strains my eyes
all the ****ing electricity in the dark
lighting the houses and dimming the stars
Identity
Childhood thoughts
Return with nostalgic knots
Think too much in the past
Your present will go aghast
You are here for now
Your future will allow
Your destiny to change
But your identity will always stay the same
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not." - John Lennon
Remember way back in school?
When things were easy, we'd play it cool,
I'd always make fun of you,
Tease you about the things you do,
We'd always meet at Oak and Chase,
I'd run for miles just to see your face.
Remember when your daddy died,
And I wiped the tears that you cried?
Remember all our talks and fights?
The questions and the sleepless nights.
And the consequences of our love,
We left it to the stars up above.
I asked you "What happens when we die?
Do we go to heaven up in the sky?
And when I get there will I see you?
Or will heaven be broken in two?
A heaven for you, a heaven for me,
How do you think heaven will be?"
There was a fence I mentioned to you,
Remember the picture that I drew?
Of a picket fence in heaven's field
That religion would use as a shield
To bar us after our death
So we wouldn't taste each other's sweet breath again
But I promised that I'd wait for you
At the fence in heaven, it's true.
I don't believe death will do us part,
Nothing divine will keep us apart.
I'd tear down that fence to hold your hand,
And I'd let heaven know where I'd stand
It's with you my darling, you my love,
'Cause all we need is our love,
You can rest in my arms, my love,
In heaven, in the sky, up above.
~The Stand~
Invisible lines, left behind by walls removed.
The barrier is as tangible now as it ever was.
A quickening of my heart and a shortness of breath
tell me I've pulled the self imposed links to their limits.
Standing on the edge I flex, testing my strength, and my resolve.
The cage I built for myself wasn't in vain, nor was it futile.
The walls served as protection and the chains as a final defense,
but even though I know the danger still lies without,
I press further, tempting fate, willing to die in it's sweet embrace.
But now the choice is to be made, and fear holds me on the edge.
Waiting, watching for the sun to rise over the distant peaks.
For life or death I accept my fate, but in my heart I know.
This will be my final stand.
Beep bop,
I stroll down the road.
Teet tot, I see a sandwich shop,
Where inside the clerk speaks in code.
I order a club, but he gives me a party.
The floor opens up, and Satan jumps inside me!
I slide down the slide, ever so windy,
Wondering what coulda happened if I had better timing,
I hit the sack of pillows with a thud,
twist both ways, pop my neck and it smells like bud
This room is scary.. Very.
I turn around face to face with a stoned Bloody Mary.
I, (I,) creator of the sickness
Lay dormant in the minds of those who bear witness
To this plague of humanity across our existence
Thriving on this hate as a form of subsistence
Do you see what I see in the world through my eyes?
Force-fed the seeds of chicaneric lies
Misrepresentation across all forms of being
Claims of enlightenment, yet never truly seeing
The switched foot of irony lays waste to your mind
Grand-scale interference of a writ so divine
The sickness sits inside you all, biding its time
Waiting for the call to make you one of its kind.
2011: Best Mafia Performance (Individual) - Best Newcomer
2012: Best (False?) Role Claim - Worst Town Performance (Group) - Best Mafia Performance (Group) - Best SK Performance - Best Overall Player
2013: Best Non-SK Neutral Performance
2014: Best Town Performance (Individual) - Best Town Performance (Group) - Most Interesting Role - Best Game - Best Overall Player
2015: Worst Mafia Performance (Group) - Best Read
2016: Best Town Performance (Group) - Best Town Player - Best Overall Player
I, (I,) creator of the sickness
Lay dormant in the minds of those who bear witness
To this plague of humanity across our existence
Thriving on this hate as a form of subsistence
Do you see what I see in the world through my eyes?
Force-fed the seeds of chicaneric lies
Misrepresentation across all forms of being
Claims of enlightenment, yet never truly seeing
The switched foot of irony lays waste to your mind
Grand-scale interference of a writ so divine
The sickness sits inside you all, biding its time
Waiting for the call to make you one of its kind.
This is super awkward since I put up the new thread and put off closing the submissions. But I'll go edit it in.
I never knew your name,
but I would have guessed
it was the same as the dog
who fished you from the river
when you were three. I’d imagine,
to this day, he still waits for you
at the gates, not much to do, nipping
the asphodels from the ash. I wonder
sometimes, on those hours
when the vacancy is at its all time high,
does he sleep? Does he dream? Does he try
to remember the days when hell
was just a small hole in the ground?
I want to know what is the world
on his shoulder? How does fire
spill from his mouth? Are the flames bile?
Is the bile blood? And is this all, some way,
a form of grief? I have never died,
so I could not know. But if I did,
I would breathe fire for you
and speak of smoke all the same,
even though, my name is Ocean.
of a world gone mad loves
the ashes of the pyramids and
the husks of the collossus and
when I dream I dream of
my blue haired psychopath god
laying with me in the rubble
of the great wall-
I love you like the dying of
the brightest star; like a black
hole loves the light and brings
it near from afar and when
I scream I scream in rage,
rage, rage, RAGE against
the fear of the dying of the last
blue dawn on a horizon that's cast
against a backdrop of man on machine
suicide love notes etched into the
ashes of the pyramids and when
I DREAM-
I dream of my blue haired psy-
chopath god and the breaking
down of all the walls and all the
towers and I dream of my collossus
and I rage at a husk and I would
burn down the world
to give you the ashes
Join the Poetry Running Contest!
Join the Poetry Running Contest!
Ouch.
I made a joke..
One that didn't set well with a certain bloke.
I was banned for a week, but now set free!
Oh, how 7-day suspension killed me.
Not able to write poetry, not able to vote.
Not even able to discuss the mass spoilers afloat!
It's nice to be back, I suppose.
Although my poetry sucks, it's more fun than typical prose.
Remember when we fell for each other way back in school?
When things were so easy, when we'd play it cool,
When we'd meet at the corner of Oak and Chase,
When I'd run for miles in the rain just to see your pretty face.
And remember when I wiped the tears that you cried?
When you felt so alone when your daddy died,
And remember our talks and our fights and our dances,
The risks that we took when we did not know the chances
Or consequences of our silly actions and love
Because we left everything to fate and the stars above.
And remember that fence I mentioned to you?
In Ms. Drum's class, remember the picture I drew?
The one of a white picket fence in a field
That our two different religions used as a shield
To bar lovers like us from loving after our death
So we wouldn't again taste the other's sweet breath,
But I promised that I'd be waiting for you
At that fence up in heaven, I promised, it's true.
Because I do not believe in "'Til death do us part"
There's nothing divine that would keep us apart.
And I'd tear down the fence just to hold your hand
And I'd let heaven above know where I'd stand
Its with you my darling, with you my love,
That's all we need, all we need is our love.
No Fun Allowed
Fun, prose, there should be no distinction
poesy is the deciphering of the waters of life
as they flow past rock, tree, hill,
at every obstacle it splashes
and moves on
in celebration
Celebrate, have fun, be free
revel in your life and in your poetical discourse;
old men in suits: the proper 'academia'
would leech the life from art
literary vampires
sustaining intellectual dictatorship
being emotional's such a big deal
crying and dying and whining and screaming
and bleeding inside, or being dramatic
to die - an expression! -
to say "it's so tragic"
i'd die if i could guarantee
the end of my own misery,
but that's not what being emo seems to be
what whiners!
complain endlessly
of things that others clam up about until those others jump off bridges and let everyone see what they feel without talking
with passive-aggressive
gestures
so i vent in endless contortions
yell my thoughts from metaphorical roofs
or fears from the edge
it's so messy, so uncouth
but it's not like i can stop feeling (is it? wish it?)
so what would you have us do?
i don't "identify" as emo or hipster
but to question yourself and yell at the top of your lungs
to listen to fiona apple say that the pain comes in like a second skeleton
is to hear yourself at times and
my heart's
so full
of parts
it's bursting at the seams
and my hopes and dreams impossible -
my fears immense, plans pointless
to say nothing of the sex
we are so small and useless
nothing to be done
when fate (that doesn't exist)
"thinks it's going to have some fun"
and that trap of rhyming nonsense
that catch of yelling anything
that comes into my mouth
as long as it sounds good
as long as it tastes good
i don't care
and i care so very much that i'll do anything to not
that feeling when something is rising up from deep within you and all you can do is scream, it's not tangible, just a small nugget of knowledge that you will never be satisfied in this world
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
Sometimes I dream
Of a different reality
But then I wake,
Into the true cold reality
Of me being alone
In my bed
Blocking out the voices in my head
Telling me to write a note,
To make a jump,
In to the next step
Of the circle of life
My Mafia Stats - My Helpdesk
G Omnath, Locus of Mana U Arcum Dagsson BUG The Mimeoplasm GW Gaddock Teeg X Karn, Silver Golem
Join the Poetry Running Contest!
in the rain
seeping through the rusted metal
i held the pipe and cried against it
my tears mixed with the iron and became hard
hands cut and stinging
the hard brick of the alley behind me
a downpour
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
I once met a girl with a smile so bright
It shone like a lighthouse in the night,
And when she laughed my heart would skip a beat.
So we talked and talked of silly things,
Like how I danced and the way she sings
In a voice so off key, it hardly sounded neat.
One evening we went off into the dark
And found an old oak tree to carve our mark
As lovers in our youth that were meant to be.
All summer long we would both sing and dance
And love each other like lovers in a trance.
Come summer's end, I got down on one knee.
That's when I said, "My dear sweet Cassidy,
In my heart I know you're the one for me.
Now darling, will you take this shiny ring?"
And as her hair blew in the summer breeze
Her eyes tear'd up and she said, "Darling, please,
It pains me to tell you of such a thing,
And I hope someday you will understand
That you truly are a sincere man,
But something says you're not the one for me."
So I said, "Sweet Cassidy, what do you mean?
After all of the things we've done and seen,
Are you saying that we're not meant to be?"
And she said, "Yes, that is what I mean,
Nick, I have to admit and come out clean
And tell you why I cannot accept this ring.
You see, darling, I truly love you so
But I must leave you here, I want to go
See the world, from London to Beijing.
And somewhere out there there will be a man
As curious as I am, who will take my hand
And travel 'round this entire world with me."
So I said, "Darling, I can be that man
Who'll travel 'round this world and take your hand
And as lovers, we would see things differently."
Then I saw teardrops falling from her eyes
As she said "Nick, I truly would despise
To see a world only as lovers see,
Because the world is such a pretty thing,
And it wouldn't be as pretty with this ring.
I want to see this world naturally.
As a soul not bound by the bonds of love,
So when I look up to those stars above
I'll know that I am me, and that I'm free."
She turned her back and walked away from me
While I was still down on one knee,
That's when I realized, when I began to see
That she loves life so much more than me
That this was how it is meant to be.
And as she left I said, "Goodbye, Cassidy,
"Send postcards, pictures of where you'll be
So I can see the places you will see
It'll be like we're there together, you and me,"
But she said, "No, that's not how it will be.
You've got your own life to live and world to see
Because you and I will see things differently."
So then ten years had gone by and passed
Since the summer I had seen Cassidy last,
And my wife had brought to me the day's mail.
To my surprise I found a postcard for me
On it was a picture of a crystal sea,
And there stood Cassidy, on a boat and sail.
I saw her happy face and that bright smile,
And all the card said was, "It's been awhile,"
And "I hope that life has treated you well."
Then I couldn't help but reminisce and sigh
And, as if speaking to Cassidy, my reply
Was "Life, indeed, has treated me well."
Such a simple thing; such a
Simple flick of god's finger
Such a little coin toss
Of all anguish and all joy
And all hope and all burn-
ing or infinite rage-
Such a little thing-
The Trajectory of Dreams.
The Flight Path of Redemption
And how!
And how can six seconds-
The last two of them, even-
Re-enact the falling of the
Tower of Babel? The burn-
ing of Rome? How can every
Great tragedy of man; how can
Every tear and wound and
sin be made reproduced by
sixty minutes on a hundred
yards of over priced
Grass?
Such a little thing.
A change in numbers.
Such a little thing.
Just a trophy.
Such a little thing;
The breath of a city, held in
Anticipation for the choice of
Mother Nature herself; the
Very Judgement of the winds-
A ten mile an hour hurricane
to bat away the ages and hallow
or undo the monuments of
Eleven mousy men.
Such a little thing.
The Trajectory of Hope.
The Flight Path of Tragedy.
The Rise and Fall of one Ball-
One ball-
One course for the rest of our lives.
It's like they say:
It's just a game.
Join the Poetry Running Contest!
Join the Poetry Running Contest!
death lurks quiet in the background of everything
brittle old bones and disfigured meandering
(purposefully misinterpreting meanings)
i dreamt i was myself under pale skies
with two others holding hands beside(s) me
i wanted, i watched - above all i abided
and suns set forever blissfully
rest my pale head under indigo waves,
be one person in pride and another in shame.
a freezing of thought like the enlightenment;
enlightened minds make suicidal bliss ...
in dreams, i pretend to be everyone else
let my brain run wild - what a terrible master
i defy logic but i shattered the self
let the scalpel cut deep and the scars last forever
let the plastic run hot and the burns spread like wildfire
it's not logic, but it feels like the cusp
of an answer to something
logical enough.
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
Floating along the gentle stream, the lily glides and dances around the whorls and rocks, moving ever forward, she is untouchable. She flies continually, never giving heed to the world around her. The branches reach out to hold her, and the frogs seek her refuge of peace for a time, but still she moves on, untouchable. through mires, over snakes that beg her to stay, the lily is floating ever on, rain can't sink her, and wind can't stop her, but with her momentum taking hold, danger looms. She reaches for branches and begs for the frogs and snakes to slow her decent, but they are far behind her now. She slips ever forward and swiftly dances over the waterfall, and dances again but through the air, ever faster now and she is untouchable.
I'm new to the thread, I'm not really sure how to make this more aesthetically pleasing, but hopefully this works
Go ahead and run, you'll only die tired.
Those who might never meet are pooled together
night air chilling skin
wet wood slats freeze my bare feet
the house was so ordered
and the world is roiling
winds obey no master
tossing my hair, possessed
I open my eyes
and my vision closes
carried by zephyrs skyward
gliding past trees, dark giants
leaping over frost fields
skimming the near-still waters
rising to unconquered domains
the goddamn lamp strains my eyes
all the ****ing electricity in the dark
lighting the houses and dimming the stars
Childhood thoughts
Return with nostalgic knots
Think too much in the past
Your present will go aghast
You are here for now
Your future will allow
Your destiny to change
But your identity will always stay the same
Remember way back in school?
When things were easy, we'd play it cool,
I'd always make fun of you,
Tease you about the things you do,
We'd always meet at Oak and Chase,
I'd run for miles just to see your face.
Remember when your daddy died,
And I wiped the tears that you cried?
Remember all our talks and fights?
The questions and the sleepless nights.
And the consequences of our love,
We left it to the stars up above.
I asked you "What happens when we die?
Do we go to heaven up in the sky?
And when I get there will I see you?
Or will heaven be broken in two?
A heaven for you, a heaven for me,
How do you think heaven will be?"
There was a fence I mentioned to you,
Remember the picture that I drew?
Of a picket fence in heaven's field
That religion would use as a shield
To bar us after our death
So we wouldn't taste each other's sweet breath again
But I promised that I'd wait for you
At the fence in heaven, it's true.
I don't believe death will do us part,
Nothing divine will keep us apart.
I'd tear down that fence to hold your hand,
And I'd let heaven know where I'd stand
It's with you my darling, you my love,
'Cause all we need is our love,
You can rest in my arms, my love,
In heaven, in the sky, up above.
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Invisible lines, left behind by walls removed.
The barrier is as tangible now as it ever was.
A quickening of my heart and a shortness of breath
tell me I've pulled the self imposed links to their limits.
Standing on the edge I flex, testing my strength, and my resolve.
The cage I built for myself wasn't in vain, nor was it futile.
The walls served as protection and the chains as a final defense,
but even though I know the danger still lies without,
I press further, tempting fate, willing to die in it's sweet embrace.
But now the choice is to be made, and fear holds me on the edge.
Waiting, watching for the sun to rise over the distant peaks.
For life or death I accept my fate, but in my heart I know.
This will be my final stand.
Go ahead and run, you'll only die tired.
Those who might never meet are pooled together
Beep bop,
I stroll down the road.
Teet tot, I see a sandwich shop,
Where inside the clerk speaks in code.
I order a club, but he gives me a party.
The floor opens up, and Satan jumps inside me!
I slide down the slide, ever so windy,
Wondering what coulda happened if I had better timing,
I hit the sack of pillows with a thud,
twist both ways, pop my neck and it smells like bud
This room is scary.. Very.
I turn around face to face with a stoned Bloody Mary.
(Read this kinda fast now ya hurr?)
Brass instruments show
pain split in my inner fist,
iron glyphs inducing
a chronic itch.....
Forthright you are.
Forthright with me.
Guns. Spears. Marksman. Hit.
Savage rupture. Skillet Brain. Bit
Ender of eternity master of the alpha,
swish-swash, audible conscript.
I, (I,) creator of the sickness
Lay dormant in the minds of those who bear witness
To this plague of humanity across our existence
Thriving on this hate as a form of subsistence
Do you see what I see in the world through my eyes?
Force-fed the seeds of chicaneric lies
Misrepresentation across all forms of being
Claims of enlightenment, yet never truly seeing
The switched foot of irony lays waste to your mind
Grand-scale interference of a writ so divine
The sickness sits inside you all, biding its time
Waiting for the call to make you one of its kind.
{мы, тьма}
2012: Best (False?) Role Claim - Worst Town Performance (Group) - Best Mafia Performance (Group) - Best SK Performance - Best Overall Player
2013: Best Non-SK Neutral Performance
2014: Best Town Performance (Individual) - Best Town Performance (Group) - Most Interesting Role - Best Game - Best Overall Player
2015: Worst Mafia Performance (Group) - Best Read
2016: Best Town Performance (Group) - Best Town Player - Best Overall Player
This is super awkward since I put up the new thread and put off closing the submissions. But I'll go edit it in.
Join the Poetry Running Contest!