When morality meets reality
I'll met you on the dark blue
side of the wave and my plate.
When my second hand fades
behind the condensed window
my hue will face the tracks.
When blackness around takes
strength and makes of itself a
wool blanket and a evaporating
shadow.
I'll be tip toeing on park benches.
I once had fun. It was awful. - Grumpy Cat
If you multiply twice
the azzhole you were -
when you thought to
borrow her; and placed
a mattress in your basement
locker, with flowers
and condoms – you'd
have been a conqueror.
But you didn't have the
guts to smite or to show
your soul, you were 16
with cream and did not
drink coffee.
Last edited by 2X2E5; 04-05-2014 at 10:13 PM.
I once had fun. It was awful. - Grumpy Cat
Just read this thread in one go. I feel like a lie down.
I thought #5 was stuffed full of interesting phrasing I liked it a lot.
In fact I enjoyed the unusual way you construct the meaning of each line in all of them, even though I can't always follow that meaning. Does that make sense?
ay up
did you mean "guts" or did you mean what it says --gusts, like gusts of wind or hot air-- as a play on words?But you didn't have the
gusts
@ prendrelemick - Thank you for the feed back, I take it as a complimentI can understand the senselessness it can produce...in conversations and writing I'm often told I am unclear and I guess that translates into my poetry by being overly cryptic and being stubborn in understanding the true definition of a word. But I also try really hard to include one sentence in almost each poem that just feels interesting in a kind of thought/image/meaning it produces. Thank you for letting me know you noticed that
@ AuntShecky - Yeah, I meant to say "guts". Originally had a typing error by forgetting the last letter -s in "guts"...must have added it twice. Thank you for the heads up.
I once had fun. It was awful. - Grumpy Cat
Extreme pleasure and your wise
words and dogmas about Dionysus
enslaves your opposite, but you like
to shake it off and continue your
phallus and superego stimulation.
You value winning and devalue losing
because you haven't grown eyes on
the back of your primitive brain – stop
your speeches on progress, when you stab
your own third and fourth eye out,
and then parade it in banners and flags,
in cars and in bars, the only real part
of you is left in your salty guilty sweat.
Oy, counter parts, you conservative
self-righteous responses to power.
Learn to inject doses of corruption
its a drug that your shouldn't fear
unless you fear yourself – **** you
if you fear yourself. Learn to live off
of cabbage and off of ice cream or, I
did not want this to be a threat, you
will perish.
Naturalness as the sculpture gets dug
too deep; don't misinterpret it for nature,
and the felonies continue until all that is
left is a pile of crumbs. No more Rodins
but a colourful variety of Picasso’s.
I once had fun. It was awful. - Grumpy Cat
Polished several horse shoes
romanticize an old man on a
bench.
I spend my days off staring at
ants and picturing marble cafes
rusting.
Im exhausted from hearing 21st
Century conspiracies become
waste.
Canadian folk are too polished
and clean from soft bubble baths;
living in Spring.
(Arrested if the bubbles are not
round, friendly, service polite, and
if they ask questions.)
Death a commodity, love is served
in biodegradable plastic, and
green rectangles are sewn to magnets
so that their filth can find bubblish
hands.
These shapes belong in museums
and maybe one day they will, but
this generation Id love to lead
is lead by loaned dry clay.
I once had fun. It was awful. - Grumpy Cat
My hands are not Sorels
and Myshkins portrait
sways in my hearts chamber
when I glisten and float to
the party of tears dancing
a waltz behind Raskolnikovs
lower eye lids.
Doctor says my Zeitgeist
needs beer and rum,
and to stare into a swollen
faced homeless bum.
My dreams are crooked,
because there is an industry
of making crutches.
My heart is swollen,
horse numbered 21,
she has good odds, and
does not see the left side -
a dangling (burning in ecstacy)
whip - and the right
side of its fenced land of charms.
To fend off the broken glass,
while admiring the inconsistencies
protected in new wave perfect
prison shaped inspired galleries,
I propose to give Billy Pilgrim
a box of chocolates, and
Ivan a tank, then ask them both
to return their gifts to their original
state – cacao beans and undiscovered
metal caves.
I once had fun. It was awful. - Grumpy Cat
I don't believe in binoculars
for making 50 year warranty
chains. You may look at the
backside of a watch, but that
doesn't stop it from ticking.
No, cream lace, and strong
taste, come from burning
cigarettes. You might not
wonder where the masterful
ashes meet, and grow, but
that wont cause your cat any
sorrow. The velvet blue candle,
out in the silent deserted oasis,
on which no eyes fall upon, and
no deer or camel traverse, sits
watching itself get buried away
in your frame of mind. Ha, yes.
You didn't think a painting could
see itself in your eyes reflection,
did you? Well it does, and it learns.
Just like that passion for which it yearns.
What's left is to knit yourself an
armour of red butterflies, and shout
into your morning cup, forget, and
pack your book's sleeve with words
that distract you from the astrological
adventures you draw...when pulling and
tweezing your arm hair, and coughing
to hide your symphony of despair.
I once had fun. It was awful. - Grumpy Cat
That's an interesting idea of a painting seeing itself in one's eyes reflection.
My blog: https://frankhubeny.blog/
XOs
with some
blow.
Winner
hits the floor.
Burn your face
at a bar,
twist your neck
break a star.
Find twisted lips
in a cactus bush -
doesn't brag
doesn't
drag...
press your nipples
into your soul.
Feel my heart
burning coal.
I once had fun. It was awful. - Grumpy Cat
Wow! Usually I'm not really an admirer of rhymed poetry but this is so bright! And the dynamics of the poetic image, splendid : )
4 Glasses of Water
Hate on Each Chair
Illuminated Faces
All Ages Despair.
Generationsare close
to Dull Dining Knives.
Sacrificial Wedlock.
Obesity and Pride.
A kitten has nowhere
to hide. A Whisker
on each Cheek ---
Dirty with Neglect.
A Fang Leashed,
A Stare that Bleached.
A Kitten with no Meow,
a button left to drown.
I once had fun. It was awful. - Grumpy Cat
Hart Noiz, I appreciate your compliments and feed back. I think its my favourite and best poem so far, written in despair and frustration to write authentically. I'm happy it didn't go unnoticed and brought you some pleasure.
I once had fun. It was awful. - Grumpy Cat
Dubstep
ON: Laptop
Craving: Satisfied
Welcome Home.
Utorrent, Steam, Updates
Facebook, Twitter, 9gag
scroll scroll scroll
jumping back and forth
like a dandy mole.
Porn, junk, merchandise
Don't need drugs,
I'm half way to paradise.
37 tabs,
suspicious lags.
Denouement,
closing tabs revives
my crave
every time I leave
I feel brave.
Virtual Reality
at the demand
of my hand,
I don't need my eyes
nor the sun,
when arrows block out
the sound of my hum.
I once had fun. It was awful. - Grumpy Cat
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