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Post by canola4life on Sept 23, 2002 18:31:15 GMT -5
written today, it's short cuz i was at the end of the page in my notebook... finally got to use the bleeding teeth imagery
tight
i'm tight, they move like fluid but i'm tight
the mirror is on fire they move through it
i can't get smaller no
they are taunting playing
my teeth are bleeding
there is smoke on the mirror
i'll never wake up
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Post by canola4life on Sept 30, 2002 20:31:22 GMT -5
haiku:
good poetry here
typed out for you, you fuckers
i'll take it elsewhere : Þ<br>
; ) it came to me in a dream. i don't know what it means.
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Post by canola4life on Nov 12, 2002 0:49:16 GMT -5
it's a rap, don't ask me why. i like expanding my horizons.
Downer
it's like it's raining in my head, soul dying sick with the flu puking up blood & guts and phlegm too/ overwhelmed with nothin lovin nothin just flounderin/ they say it's hard to pray, to bring light to the grey, but i'm too tired to take the first step, to ask for help with my fight, to pray to make my load light, my chest feels so tight/ i got a cold in my heart, my soul's feelin cold, i'm only 17 but i feel so old/ it's like i'm agin' each day i push the button that says "play", it's downer music, embrace it, just say it, you think it helps to soothe some of the tension that people mention when they tell you you're different than you used to be/ all the people i love try to help me but it's worthless when the downer in me emerges/ obsessed with red on a background of black/ i'm lackin the emotions to feel human like you, to do the things you do, to shed the shit from my back like you/ i go more crazy daily, talkin insanely, havin vi'lent daydreams of flaying the laymen and layin the hymen and killin and dyin i can't fuckin take it no more so i shave off my hair and i pass out and sleep for a few hundred years...
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Post by Spazmatikal on Nov 17, 2002 17:06:45 GMT -5
you should post more of your raps, m'boy. i'm impressed by them  |
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Post by canola4life on Nov 26, 2002 23:41:43 GMT -5
My anger is precious to me
so's my complacency
My inner catastrophe
is very precious to me.
Ether as a medium
the vagueness of helium
toxic as lithium
static is tedium.
Darkness is my friend
I'm welcoming the end
I hate the world of men
Life is just a trend.
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Post by canola4life on Nov 26, 2002 23:44:34 GMT -5
days of darkness
nights of lies
understated atrophy
as muscle tissue dies
reviving breath and satisfied
burden beast within
mending hollow complexes
with wiccan medicine
ruffled, deep, a metaphor
of sultry satan eyes
pouting full red lips
mistaking patriarchal dyes
a caste complete, a palindrome
the queen's retreating friend
a subtle shuffle of disorder
and this poem's end
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Post by canola4life on Dec 6, 2002 0:07:47 GMT -5
that last one was about my dad- palindrome, "DAD," all that stuff. look for it.
stung by the bee
that tormented me
cornered by that which i tried hardest to kill
indescribable nausea makes my mind turn me ill
sleeping with dogs, plagued, their woes my own
eyes close to face an empty head, bloody, blown
i nurture it with hatred of its very entity
and in turn it takes my life as its own energy
i try to close my eyes and ignore that it exists
it's a little ball of pain and anguish, parasitic cyst
finally i turn to God, in earnest, to submit
i know that i am helpless, bound to failure, i admit
unless i trust in Him completely, pour into Him my faith
i'll never override and overcome that naked wraith.
i see that i am pitiful without, and with eyes open wide
i take that first small step t'wards God the Lion and His Pride
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Post by canola4life on Jan 16, 2003 21:25:49 GMT -5
there's a rumble in the floor
that stagnates for five minutes
before my calloused gums part
and i scream in
my eyes hurt and clench
and my nose runs deeper into my head
shrieks detonate in the blotchy acid
that is my halo
the mucous that lines my throat is burning away
and now it seems the room is helping me scream
backwards
atmosphere crammed into the vacuum
my teeth coming with it, choking me
now pressure cages me
all around is this room of mine
but i'm incoherent and cut
and i can't even feel all the agony i am in.
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Post by Midnight55309 on Jan 16, 2003 21:29:48 GMT -5
No offense to anyone, but I personally think that people should try to stay away from writing songs about deat and other things like it. I find it to be quite disturbing to me.
Like I said, I mean to offend no one, I am merely stating my opinions.
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Post by canola4life on Jan 16, 2003 23:11:54 GMT -5
none taken. i write that shit because someitmes, just sometimes, i turn into a little ball of depression, angst, aand pain, and i find poetry to be the safest outlet for my aggressions. it's also a good way to let those who know me or care about me how i feel at the moment so they can gauge how best to deal with me, what to say, all that. poetry, even the macabre, neurotic, psychotic, dark, dreary, despondent and hurtful, all has a place and while i appreciate you responding to my writing, it's here for a reason and i'm going to poitely choose to ignore you and keep writing what's on my mind. "in-scream" helped me more than you can imagine.
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Post by Spazmatikal on Jan 16, 2003 23:12:46 GMT -5
^^ i don't agree in the least (erik1089). writing is a medium to get out your emotions, to express how you're feeling at the moment your pen hits the paper or you fingers hit the keys. some people think about death. some people think about it a lot. i think it's way the hell better to write about death than to let it bottle itself inside your head, where one day you may just explode and kill yourself. writing is a form of therapy. it helps you release.
yes, some peoples thoughts are scary. some people are violent. but, that's life. everyone is different. it's a matter of accepting that difference in people to survive.
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Post by Toxic-Avenger on Jan 22, 2003 12:24:35 GMT -5
I have to agree, writing is an outlet to our feelings. Sometimes it can be better therapy than any pill or couch. Feelings and thoughts can be dealt with, and we can see them for what they are. Yes, they are disturbing, but the creativity and abilty to put into words, one's thoughts are what makes us artists.
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Post by canola4life on Mar 3, 2003 20:34:09 GMT -5
i planned for today with every intention
of giving the Kingdom some honorable mention
but it was late when at last i retired
getting less sleep than i really require
to have a clean head and wake up on the dime
i hustled and barely made it out on time
my mind was still dizzy from the morning rush
yesterday's pants and a sweater of bush
hair still so dirty from not getting watered
as i stepped from the truck i teetered and tottered
God was swirling around in my head
but my prayers hit the ground as heavy as lead
i pushed my way through with what strength i possess
too weakened for a proper call of distress
i once again missed His amazing gift, grace
now i'm anxious and acne has covered my face
i feel so confused and i feel so wrong
i feel so let down and it's been so long
since i had the communion that leaves me fulfilled
enjoyed the relationship for which Jesus was killed
i don't feel forgiven and i feel overtested
i feel empty and i feel heavychested
i feel like You know this and turn a blind eye
i know everything's my fault and definitely i
feel like i've been trying my hardest to come
close to Your Word but my arms both fall numb
i feel You so close but You just aren't working
so i'm on my knees by Your robe, crying, jerking
to get Your attention and some of Your power
i feel like i'm in my weakest hour
i'm begging, don't test me any farther, please, Father
cuz i don't feel like i can take just one more little bother
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Post by Spazmatikal on Mar 3, 2003 21:20:16 GMT -5
^^ i know i told you in IM that i thought this was powerful, but i wanted to reiterate the fact. it is. i love you and i know you'll get through this
Therefore strengthen the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be dislocated, but rather be healed
Hebrews 12:12-13
Beloved, do not think it strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened to you, but rejoice to the extent that you partake of Christ's sufferings; that when His glory is revealed, you may also be glad with exceeding joy
1 Peter 4:12-13
you'll pull through, you're strong. <3
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Post by canola4life on Mar 6, 2003 19:33:38 GMT -5
thanks tiff  i always do get through it, don't i? The Girl on the Floor I see the bottles smeared into her face the beer changing, diluting her complexion My thumb uncovers her disenchanted eyes They are drunk; they do not sparkle. My eyes bathe her features with muted sorrow Listless crooked legs Blue jeans carefully torn, studded vegan leather hugging them to her hips Scuffed suede Pumas with plain navy laces Her palms are rosy and soft, but her fingers are delicately dead Now past vomiting, her cheeks seem puffy with formaldehyde the tightness of her longsleeve top has slipped to reveal the obliviously raped beauty of an inebriated hip Her delicate necklace belies her desperacy her boredom it is a symbol of a sad sad love her dirty blonde hair extensive ear piercings naturally thin eyebrows despondent beauty, lovely sickness I could take her home with me all of her but for the dark brown glass so wedded to her lips. |
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i always do get through it, don't i?