Submissions by 010101110110100101 (053927598376y93870873109)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
it's your funeral.
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
25th Nov 2012 9:11am
25th Nov 2012 9:11am
leaving (tata)
everything dies.
the prickly cactus needs water;
the cleaning lady has cancer.
ginger cake.
antioxidant.
killer.
it still rains.
doesn't mean anything, this rain,
there aren't any foetuses (fetuses) feet uz us?
no unborns that are splattered with each drop
that's only a dream-thing,
only a fiction.
no i will not
collaborate.
i'd only lie.
one man (woman) wolf pack, that's me.
and hunting season's over.
time to go.
everything dies.
i killed a little girl once
she looked like me
in her eyes....
the prickly cactus needs water;
the cleaning lady has cancer.
ginger cake.
antioxidant.
killer.
it still rains.
doesn't mean anything, this rain,
there aren't any foetuses (fetuses) feet uz us?
no unborns that are splattered with each drop
that's only a dream-thing,
only a fiction.
no i will not
collaborate.
i'd only lie.
one man (woman) wolf pack, that's me.
and hunting season's over.
time to go.
everything dies.
i killed a little girl once
she looked like me
in her eyes....
163 reads
3 Comments
UPBEAT POEM
Published
24th Nov 2012 7:45pm
24th Nov 2012 7:45pm
strangers [route 1 to nottingham]
rains fall outside, coursing over the windows
outside is unimportant
darkly cold and coldly dark
lights blur under the water.
she has a thin line
like cotton thread
circling her dark neck
pink like a cat's tongue.
what's that from?
cheese wire?
(the seat in front of me
has burnmelt marks from
some faggot's lighter
0 θ θθ 00 θ)
thing of beauty
he has a cross on his hand with three
sunbeam lines jutting out
from where christ's crown would be
blue, faded ...
outside is unimportant
darkly cold and coldly dark
lights blur under the water.
she has a thin line
like cotton thread
circling her dark neck
pink like a cat's tongue.
what's that from?
cheese wire?
(the seat in front of me
has burnmelt marks from
some faggot's lighter
0 θ θθ 00 θ)
thing of beauty
he has a cross on his hand with three
sunbeam lines jutting out
from where christ's crown would be
blue, faded ...
145 reads
11 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
23rd Nov 2012 9:41pm
23rd Nov 2012 9:41pm
their love
where they kiss a bloodbath blooms from red lipsticks
cancer sores spread from their lips and where
they touch the ink is drawn from needle kicks to fingertips to tattoed hips
it's poetry believe me this is this
when they fuck their breath is smoke and substance is not all they are
on the upward ride the icy slide of crystal meth
right behind her eyeballs is a shooting star
he wants to carve them out what luck what serendipity
don't
pity me she chokes and then they fall
it was so beautiful before
cancer sores spread from their lips and where
they touch the ink is drawn from needle kicks to fingertips to tattoed hips
it's poetry believe me this is this
when they fuck their breath is smoke and substance is not all they are
on the upward ride the icy slide of crystal meth
right behind her eyeballs is a shooting star
he wants to carve them out what luck what serendipity
don't
pity me she chokes and then they fall
it was so beautiful before
237 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
23rd Nov 2012 7:06pm
23rd Nov 2012 7:06pm
i'm with the younguns
we sacrificed a kitten for you look
in a pentagram look with the candles
and the sweet scent of stomach bile
mixing with vodka
bloody mary in a broken bottle
we need to prove we
deserve to be among you to serve the gods
of (poetry/art/chaos) whatever tickles your fancy
-well get a move on then go
go it's your last chance to dance
it's the devil you dance with
and nobody know no no knows
is it rhyme is it prose is it roman de la rose
with the roman nose and the hammer toes
from dancing
ballet freestyle
around his one...
in a pentagram look with the candles
and the sweet scent of stomach bile
mixing with vodka
bloody mary in a broken bottle
we need to prove we
deserve to be among you to serve the gods
of (poetry/art/chaos) whatever tickles your fancy
-well get a move on then go
go it's your last chance to dance
it's the devil you dance with
and nobody know no no knows
is it rhyme is it prose is it roman de la rose
with the roman nose and the hammer toes
from dancing
ballet freestyle
around his one...
109 reads
5 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
20th Nov 2012 7:12pm
20th Nov 2012 7:12pm
i recall
a crazy cousin
well, some relation, anyhow
he arrived out the neverending
what the bloody hell blue
with one pair of jeans
two tops
and one suit
hanging in his car
ate nothing but rye bread
talked about where he'd been what he'd done
his ex wife in china
his girlfriends
what love is like
wasn't above having a go on a trampoline.
the sun shone that day
and he rested on a white plastic chair
just living.
he was life
and none of us knew exactly
what to say to him.
he took the...
well, some relation, anyhow
he arrived out the neverending
what the bloody hell blue
with one pair of jeans
two tops
and one suit
hanging in his car
ate nothing but rye bread
talked about where he'd been what he'd done
his ex wife in china
his girlfriends
what love is like
wasn't above having a go on a trampoline.
the sun shone that day
and he rested on a white plastic chair
just living.
he was life
and none of us knew exactly
what to say to him.
he took the...
100 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
19th Nov 2012 10:32am
19th Nov 2012 10:32am
lexical evasion
of all the bright red words
that spring from the tap veins of our thought
pooling like a mire and mixing with
icky plasma and clothing fibre
of all those crimson cerise
(hate those hackneyed adjectives)
colourwashes down the sink
those darkened rusts on the blade-edge
brown stains on the carpet
(hair dye momma)
why could we not call it blood
that spring from the tap veins of our thought
pooling like a mire and mixing with
icky plasma and clothing fibre
of all those crimson cerise
(hate those hackneyed adjectives)
colourwashes down the sink
those darkened rusts on the blade-edge
brown stains on the carpet
(hair dye momma)
why could we not call it blood
84 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
19th Nov 2012 9:04am
19th Nov 2012 9:04am
[i like including pop culture references]
cut my hair and change my name
but i'm never a rockstar
never a rock to throw round where we are
i hate your car
your fancy ass mercedes
i know a guy with a van
that says mercedes on it
aint got leather seats though.
it aint the blood
that i like most it's the scars
when they rise like mountains
on a barren land
and alpine arms then
are nothing new; just most folks
like to do their shit where others can't see it
wish i'd got in with the junkies
earlier
tainted blood m yes ...
but i'm never a rockstar
never a rock to throw round where we are
i hate your car
your fancy ass mercedes
i know a guy with a van
that says mercedes on it
aint got leather seats though.
it aint the blood
that i like most it's the scars
when they rise like mountains
on a barren land
and alpine arms then
are nothing new; just most folks
like to do their shit where others can't see it
wish i'd got in with the junkies
earlier
tainted blood m yes ...
106 reads
5 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
12th Nov 2012 10:29pm
12th Nov 2012 10:29pm
let me try and f**king explain them ok give me a f**king second
yeah well.
scars.
you know the ones.
i could write whole epics about them.
i probably have written as many lines about them
as i have scored into my skin.
but really, once you've got just one... you're fucked.
you've given yourself a new name.
"loser"
tagged yourself forever.
slice, stupid, stupid.
so when the thought comes again you think
"why the fuck not?"
why ever the flying fuck not
and you end up like this
but that's all nothing
see? i have no pain
running any deeper...
scars.
you know the ones.
i could write whole epics about them.
i probably have written as many lines about them
as i have scored into my skin.
but really, once you've got just one... you're fucked.
you've given yourself a new name.
"loser"
tagged yourself forever.
slice, stupid, stupid.
so when the thought comes again you think
"why the fuck not?"
why ever the flying fuck not
and you end up like this
but that's all nothing
see? i have no pain
running any deeper...
138 reads
5 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
12th Nov 2012 8:03pm
12th Nov 2012 8:03pm
one day
one day someday any day at all
you all will die
you all will die
and i am waiting for that day
the day when one of you
two of you the rest of you
the whole fucking lot of you
are dead and dying
dead and dead and dead
i have plans tonight
to be carving punchlines in my arm
and another plan to sleep well
in the end all that can decide
is the toss of a coin
tossed by a tosser who'll decide
whether its heads or tails
after the fact
and not before
you have plans tonight
and if i guessed them i'd be...
you all will die
you all will die
and i am waiting for that day
the day when one of you
two of you the rest of you
the whole fucking lot of you
are dead and dying
dead and dead and dead
i have plans tonight
to be carving punchlines in my arm
and another plan to sleep well
in the end all that can decide
is the toss of a coin
tossed by a tosser who'll decide
whether its heads or tails
after the fact
and not before
you have plans tonight
and if i guessed them i'd be...
89 reads
4 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
11th Nov 2012 6:44pm
11th Nov 2012 6:44pm
golf
and what
and what
follow through you fucker
follow through
and what
follow through you fucker
follow through
106 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
10th Nov 2012 12:34pm
10th Nov 2012 12:34pm
birthday wishes
decided that this year
everything rests
on my birthday.
the word does not have
the same meaning
to me
as it might to you
(happy 18th hoorayy
get the fucking booze out
a fucking cake &
we're going fucking clubbing
yeah like i'm
fucking normal)
i see only choices.
i see only shame.
everything rests
on my birthday.
the word does not have
the same meaning
to me
as it might to you
(happy 18th hoorayy
get the fucking booze out
a fucking cake &
we're going fucking clubbing
yeah like i'm
fucking normal)
i see only choices.
i see only shame.
228 reads
DARK POEM
Published
9th Nov 2012 8:07pm
9th Nov 2012 8:07pm
ideation
getting that feeling
that i might
hurt my self a gain
all the
wonderful things i'd do
de doobedy do
with meat scissors
carvery knivery
(the cleaver?
isn't that going too far?)
i LOVE this sickness!
sorry
- if it's wrong to say it
but
it's like
a laugh is
bubbubbling
nearly boiling
in side of meee
hahaha
with the fear-lies
and the
no i'd never...
...would i? ...
that i might
hurt my self a gain
all the
wonderful things i'd do
de doobedy do
with meat scissors
carvery knivery
(the cleaver?
isn't that going too far?)
i LOVE this sickness!
sorry
- if it's wrong to say it
but
it's like
a laugh is
bubbubbling
nearly boiling
in side of meee
hahaha
with the fear-lies
and the
no i'd never...
...would i? ...
136 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by 010101110110100101 (053927598376y93870873109)