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R
RandomThoughts Aug 04, 2007

My Birthday

Today is my birthday.

Today I am one year older.

Today I feel extra peppy.

Today I feel special.

Today I get showered with gifts.

Today the world sings for me.

Today is not my birthday.

Today I am a lier!

R
RandomThoughts Aug 04, 2007

SlapDropTickle

Slapped you.

Dropped to the floor.

Tickled me so.

Rise to your feet I say.

Raised my fist to you.

Flinched and cried.

I laughed at the power I have.

Slapping you all round the room.

Laughing as I did so.

Blood spilling from your skin.

Screams and tears race cross the room.

Emotions bouncing from wall to wall.

Hitting you harder and harder.

Trying to prove my pointless point.

Day after day I say I love you.

Every word spoken you believe.

R
RandomThoughts Aug 04, 2007

I Heart You

So lovely and profound. Graceful and elegant. Shimmering when light touches you. Beautiful as a thousand diamonds. So fragile. Easily broken. Made for high society. Traces of red lipstick on you. Crisp cold water lingering inside you. Rough hands clutch round your neck. Taking your liquor from you. His mustache tickles every time. Empty. Vacant. Bare. Gently put into a black bucket. Surrounded by others just the same. Some chipped and broken. Some barely used. Mostly forgotten. Taking by the hands of working class heros. Only to be put into burning hot water.
W
wellbelove Aug 04, 2007

Untried

You took away my childhood
Robbed me of my early years
Replaced what should have been the best days of my life
With loneliness and fear

 
Never tried for your crime
Brought to account for what you’ve done
Never punished for my nightmares
As my mind replays every punch you’ve thrown

 
Somewhere in your drunken haze
I cling to the hope you felt just a glimmer of guilt
In the years after we escaped and you were left lonely to rot
That just for a second you had wished you had not

Q
Quillsvein1 Aug 04, 2007

The Mice

(after Georg Trakl)

after Georg Trakl

Into the brick abandoned house the tired mice run.
Curious slivers of moonlight peek in.
Icy wind scatters pages of black leaves
From an old Bible left on the floor.

Pink bellied and starving, they devour Acts 2:1.
A percussion of white squeaks begin.
In the demolished ribcage of dirty brick,
Their eyes shine like dogs in wet moonlight.

Q
Quillsvein1 Aug 04, 2007

Ecce Homo (David Gascoyne)

Whose is this horrifying face,
This putrid flesh, discouloured, flayed,
Fed on by flies, scorched by the sun?
Whose are these hollow red-filmed eyes
And thorn-spiked head and spear-stuck side?
Behold the Man: He is Man’s Son.

Forget the legend, tear the decent veil
That cowardice or interest devised
To make their mortal enemy a friend,
To hide the bitter truth all His wounds tell,
Lest the great scandal be no more disguised:
He is in agony till the world’s end,

A
anonymitylll Aug 04, 2007

soul sex

Burning through my veins is a fear that will transform kindly into despair and sickness

Leeching slowly up my spine, it drains and feeds off meager insecurities that uphold my weakness.

I accept this shredded comfort of skepticism with complete rationality through tears that coerce me to hate.

Deep within is a metemorphosis that drips slowly away frim this fear of air that grips so violently in an eternal yearning to atlas; Triangulate

Seeing and intrinsicly enforcing my past to dissipate into a pool of salty fleshs spawned from a seperate, but kindred heart.

B
barbsdad2003 Aug 04, 2007

No Boat/Sub/Cig

There’s no boat like a frigate

That moves well under water.

 

There’s no sub like a substitute

Just doing what she otter.

 

There’s no cig like a cigarette

Ne’er smoked by anybody’s daughter.