Friday, April 9, 2010

Silent, Deadly Silent

I hear your breath
short and sporadic
gasping in my ear
whispering words unknown
your heart beats fast
faster than expected
as i grasp you
press you up against my body
you twitch slightly
dying in my arms
forever gone
as i feel the last pulse
that soars through your body
your eyes stop blinking
your body stops twitching
silent, deadly silent, in my arms

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Finally Gone - A haiku by me

you're finally gone
and I don't miss you one bit
also, that is a huge lie

Thursday, March 18, 2010

The Windows

the windows
they fly towards me
fast as lightning
the scare me
soaring in rows
facing right in my direction
going thousands of miles per hour
until they collide with me
and subsequently shatter

Monday, March 15, 2010

Teddy

A poem I started, got one stanza in, and couldn't finish, but I kind of liked it anyways.

Cuddly teddy
you sit on my bed
I wish I wish
that you weren't dead.

New found punctuation!

Man, am I really that nerdy that I am getting uber excited from finding new punctuations? Well I did just say uber... So yeah, I'm that nerdy haha. Anyways, while looking at a website where people post their literary tattoos, someone mentioned wanting to get a tattoo of the Interrobang. Well, never having heard of this before, I had to go look it up. And to my surprise, it was the greatest online discovery of my [so far] life!

"The interrobang, interabang, or quesclamation mark, ‽, is a nonstandard English-language punctuation mark intended to combine the functions of the question mark and the exclamation mark or exclamation point."
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Interrobang

Other great and interesting things I have found:

"The irony mark or irony point (؟) (French: point d’ironie; also called a snark or hook) is a proposed punctuation mark that was suggested to be used to indicate that a sentence should be understood at a second level (e.g. irony, sarcasm, etc.). It is illustrated by a small, elevated, backward-facing question mark. The irony mark has never been used widely. It appears occasionally in obscure artistic or literary publications."
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Irony_mark

and

"The SarcMark, short for sarcasm mark, is a punctuation mark invented by Paul Sak designed to show when passages of text have a sarcastic tone. It resembles a cross between the @ symbol and the exclamation mark. " (I cannot yet find a version of this in typing to copy and paste and use on the computer...)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SarcMark

If anyone else knows of any other punctuation marks, lemme know! :D

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Silver, Beat.

Silver, Beat.

I'm bleeding
bleeding everywhere
from everywhere
pouring it, everywhere
it's silver
I don't understand it
why does it pour from my every orifice?
why does this happen
gushing this silver liquid
my limbs begin to shiver
they snap without warning
one by one
until just a bundle of sticks remains
still oozing it's silver
everywhere
pouring, gushing, oozing
it's silver, broken pieces
they bend and twist
they warp
I don't know who I am anymore
these crawling deformed decapitated pieces
writhing in happiness while I am now dead
dead, yet alive in the sense that my heart,
while impossible,
still beats on.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Garksnaff

There they are
Floating mid-air
The claws of the ravenous Garksnaff

My eyes close tight
riding that impossible clawed image
Of an unknown hallucination

I crawled through thorny brush
It pricking and tearing
Past warnings terribly awry

Blood pools all over
Speaking to me, "Follow the brush not,
Or return, you will not..."

I break away
Into a clearing
Sensing a dark killing power

A clearing, maybe a lair
A bright sunny circle
But surrounded by shadowy trees

A growl I hear
A snarl from there
I frantically search 'till I see

The filthy claws
On the severed limbs
Blending to the darkness

Suspended arms
Attached to nothing
But the invisible, terrible beast

Purple scales, yellow feathers on knuckles
With it's sharp jagged talons
Dripping with blood of innocent

Out from the tree
Out from the brush
The Garknsnaff creates it's roar

The roar, a loud "Kra-ool!"
The brown saliva drips
As it's call sounds screams of it's victims

It swipes and attacks
Shredding my throat open
My deep red liquid pouring all 'round

The creature takes in a breath
With it's deep grumbling gasp
Devours my very last scream

I fall, crumpled, doubled in two
A victim of this beast
The beast, the last image in my eyes

There they are
Floating mid-air
The claws of the ravenous Garksnaff.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Bastard Creation

Look at my creation!
This bastard planet
From just one man's thoughts
Could use a woman's touch.



Inspired by this random (yet amazing) picture from photobucket: http://media.photobucket.com/image/surreal%20art/porro_x/surreal%20art/Surreal_World_2008_by_riolcrt.jpg?o=3

Monday, March 1, 2010

I Even Miss That

I miss you so

I miss the way you stared at me
those crazy eyes
at my crazy thoughts

I miss you so

I miss the way we had three things in common
Dropkick Murphys, Harry Potter, Boondock Saints
and absolutely nothing else

I miss you so

I miss the way we got along
even with opposite thoughts
even with contrasting opinions

I miss you so

I miss the way you told me about the move
without a hint of sadness
and ignored the coming upsetting day

I miss you so

I miss the the talks we had
once you got your new phone
even though we could only text while you're at school

I miss you so

I even miss the way we parted
after you came to visit
that last moment I saw you
the bus driving away
the fake smile on my face as I pass
my palm on the window
coming as close to you as possible
not close enough
never close enough
that last hug, not enough

I miss you so

I miss you every time I listen to "The State of Massachusetts"
I miss you every time a friend recites the speech of The Saints

I even miss the way you would say
"And how..."
and how I would look at you
with that annoyed face, as I hate that phrase
yet just to bother me
you would stare and say it again
I even miss that

I miss you so...

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Such a World of Wonders

Such a world of wonders
I float through it

Float above the world of waters
Not green polluted water
But the luscious blue pools beneath
That cover the planets entirety

Such a world of wonders
I float through it

Float below the bright blue sky
No sun, no sun needed
The blue sky is so vibrant
That it shimmers brightly forever

Such a world of wonders
I float through it

The beings inhabiting
The blue flying creatures, croaking around the skies
Speaking fluidly with the turquoise creatures under them
That soar inside the seas

Such a world of wonders
I float through it

This world of beauty, stunningly unimaginable
Created with just a flash, just a glance
As I come back to reality, awaking from the trance
That has been created, through your hypnotic blue eyes...

Thursday, February 25, 2010

do they prove you right?

my bloody hands
do they prove you're right?

darkly red
dripping as i walk

the soft pitter patter
of my latest victim

with the music blasting
my ears blaring with anger

angst, rebellion, destruction
all that i hear

visions of games
more violent than any you've seen

mutilation, torture, death
all that i see

all these people you blame
driving their lives downward

yet downward to you
is upward for me

the more you blame and hate
the more i love and enjoy

death to the protesters
to the haters

death to the people
whom blame the innocent

my bloody hands
do they prove you right?

More Than One Muse?

Oh muse, oh muse
where are you?
I've images in my mind
of the dark and the deep
the demented and the psychotic
just like the poems I seem to like writing
yet I have nothing
where have you gone?
many poems I have written
with you at my side
but now you are gone
you seem to be hiding
what did I do
why do you do this to me?
when I'm on a roll
seriously
well I guess I have more than one muse
because you sickly dark demented thing you
seem to still be in hiding
though I've written yet another poem
without you.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Om Nom Nom

Om nom nom
says the cute wittle kitty
rolling around on his back
meowing furiously
pulling and tugging
on the yarn-like material
playing, pawing, kneading
tangling himself in it
chewing little bits
the red stringy substance
he pulls on
until he reaches the end
covered in its maroon secretion
it oozes slightly
as he nibbles into his master’s eye.

the blue bolt of thunder

Thanks for the inspiration Mirabelle :)



there she sits
arms folded in two
legs crossed over
staring blank
motionless
into the abyss
this grey cloudy purgatory
forever inescapable
terror lurking behind
in front
from side to side
this purgatory of feelings
wound up
inside of her little blonde head
drowning out the life
that she once lived
her hair dangles over
her spine
which shivers with at it nears
her lover
the only thing that makes her feel
coming fast, racing towards her
galloping in the wind
through the fog
he strikes her
softly
he reaches her spine
the blue bolt of thunder
hair standing up slowly on her head
the bolt shivers at her neck
it travels to her shoulder
the blade reflects its touch
it moves faster
reaching her next shoulder blade
reflecting its touch once again
slowly faster, faster than the wind
faster than the brain
as fast as possible,
moving through the blades on her back
bounding from one to the other
one to the other
one to the other
ricocheting fluidly but gathering speed
gathering energy
gathering it all up
it yelps
as the energy releases
it jumps upwards
into the sky, into the grey abyss
she stands quietly
unfolds her arms
and steps back into her life.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

The Gothic

Inspired by all of the frantic feelings we explore through the reading of Gothic literature.

Racing the track
Running the hamster wheel
Loop spinning
Fire ablazing
Mind bending
Defenses attacked
Heart pounding
Senses distracted
Mind penetrated
Thoughts implanted
Models of horror
Creation of uncanny
Pain constructing
Soul embodying
The Gothic

Monday, February 22, 2010

You Still Matter

Those things you do
the pain you inflict
why is it worth it
why can you stand it
I love you, you see
blood or not
you are still family
and family with me
means never having
to be down on yourself
you are amazing
you must understand
no matter the shit
that gets thrown at you
and the people that hate
you still matter to one person
you still matter to me
you still matter.

Staring at the Clock

Psychosis, Psychosis
staring at the clock
the clock strikes three
and then it goes to stop

I pull the rigid knife
out of the bleak body
as the blood protrudes out
like the branches of a tree

the sweat beads drop
off the bottom of my chin
as I unnecessarily worry
how much trouble I'll be in

the antennae come out
from the slit in his thigh
from the first wound inflicted
and unfolds yellow wings to say "hi"

he states his name is 'France'
unlikely as that can be
though I break his binding chains
so that from this corpse he can be free

the shattering metal
attached to the trunk of the tree
slips away from beautiful 'France'
as he flutters away shouting "Savior is he!"

the blood clumps and crawls away
draining his body, every which way

out of blood
I look at the clock
crazy must I fucking be
as it shouts "2:59" with a tock.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Your Soul, No Sympathy

I've been searching
years and years
that one special person
whose life they will share
sharing forever
with me and only me
what they don't realize
is what they share they won't receive
for I am out to devour
your soul, with no sympathy

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Stand...resist

You bother me
You anger me

You make me sad
You make me worry

I can't stand you
yet
I can't resist you

I Drone On

Every beat of your heart
I can feel it
as your blood runs
through your body
I can see it, smell it
as perfectly
as if it were my own

Every breath you take
I can feel in my grasp
your chest moving against mine
as I lay down atop you
devouring your life
with only flesh as my desire
as I drone on without a thought

Sunday, February 14, 2010

With a Padlock

With a Padlock

Folded up
Tucked away
Hiding in a little pocket
Zipped up
With a padlock
Hiding from anyone
Who'll take it away

It will always be there
Never be gone
Always lurking
My feelings for you
My love for you
In a special place
Of my heart

Saturday, February 13, 2010

That's What They Say About Me

If any of you have played the first BioShock, you may recognize the name Sander Cohen. He was the artist later in the game in which you had to go and find people, kill them, take their pictures, and post them up on Cohen's art collection. After playing BioShock 2 for 3 hours and staying up until 3am, the idea for this poem just came to me. Hope you all enjoy it.
Ps, for those of you who are Cohen fans, you might recognize a subtle nod to Cohen's poem "The Wild Bunny".


That's What They Say About Me
[A tribute to Sander Cohen]


A little weird
A little cuckoo
That's what they say about me

Why hate my morbidity
I'm just weirdly creative
What's wrong with being an artist?

A little wacko
A little crazy
That's what they say about me

The poems of hippity-hopping psychosis
The pictures of monstrous pain
What's wrong with being an artist?

A little demented
A little fucked up
That's what they say about me

Torturing the models
Slaughtering the muse
What's wrong with being an artist?

Very much demented
Very much deranged
That's what is brilliant about me.

Saturday, January 30, 2010

Harbinger Moon

"They say tonight is the brightest moon we'll get in a while."


Crawling through the bushes
dirt climbing under your nails
mud caking to your pants
rocks scuffing up the tips of your shoes
screams run through the air
defying the volume made by the voice of man
following, ruffling inside,
coming through the shrubs
the howls call after,
the howls you're running from
the inevitability chasing after you
the furred monster,
bringing unprecedented dread
as it's feet clunk up behind you
gasping for one last breath
before the monster takes it away.

Ew, an emo poem...

I think
I put too much faith
in humanity
thinking they can be there for you
when they won’t
thinking they won’t make the same mistakes
when they will
thinking that one day you can rely on them
which will never happen
it never will
there will always be people letting you down
I guess
it’s really just how you deal with it
do you sit around and let them
or do you go out and forget it
either way
it will find it’s way back
to rip you in half
all at once.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

[Slowly]

How tenderly I
touch your cheek,
[as my lips]
for such divine beauty
[slowly]
can only be brushed
with a graceful movement
[press against yours]

Friday, January 8, 2010

A Three-Lined Poem- Alluring Jumble

Alluring Jumble

The sweet alluring smell
Throws my heart
Into a jumble.