StP Poetry Compilation

[coolguyeagle76']

the positive thing was directed at feedback, keep them poems dark man!

 

[tree hopper]

ha. yeah i figured, sorry had to throw in a little sarcasm

 

[tree hopper]

It’s all black ash and ugly sex dust,
This loser makes good hell I’ve been living in.
It’s vampire blood red carpet stains,
And dirty black tar needle scented,
This broken family portrait-induced turned self-destruction hell life
it’s psycho stalker shadows kind of dark,
leaking this heavy energy that lingers and molests my fucken mind.
Hush, don’t scream.
It’ll be over soon.
Shh, don’t beg.
Just feel me inside your body shell, ripping you to shreds.
You see, there’s this place inside where all the good things die.
Can corpses feel, because I died years ago,
when I first met the devil guy who liked to play his devil guy games
I heard he got fifty dollars for my soul on the black market,
He got ripped off.
My insides are a graveyard, filled with buried bits and pieces of me that have died along the way.

 

[tree hopper]

White, angelic ball of light
Floating aimlessly
What an immense exertion of brightness
Almost blinding,
I look away

 

[RnJ]

This is kinda poetry, and part of a longer spiel I wrote. I'm thinking of reworking it and performing it at a local poetry slam to impress a girl that I'm currently digging. She says she'll only performs her stuff (which I know first hand to be amazing), if she sees me do it first. Check it:

(This one is about DOMs - dirty old men in Asia, who lure in beautiful young locals with their riches and promise of America. It bothers me. -- There's also hints of jealousy in here, just to be honest.

Here I sit in the turbulent wake of his glory. The umbrella overhead is beat in the back just to keep him cool; the white plastic legs buckle faithfully beneath his ham; the table arrayed by the fruits of fortune, joking all the while to pass the afternoon with those who will laugh at his ignorance, because they enjoy it. He sits with those who understand economics, or at least how to get what they please, even when it's "not for sale." For all this, he has taken home a trophy which sits on a low shelf, content just to look at his splendor and favor. I eat the sand for breakfast and drink the sea for salt on this strange and lonely island, watching animals bare their under-exposed selves like chunks of pork in queue for the grill, while others lick their lips and close in.

 

[RnJ]

This is kinda poetry, and part of a longer spiel I wrote. I'm thinking of reworking it and performing it at a local poetry slam to impress a girl that I'm currently digging. She says she'll only performs her stuff (which I know first hand to be amazing), if she sees me do it first. Check it:

(This one is about DOMs - dirty old men in Asia, who lure in beautiful young locals with their riches and promise of America. It bothers me. -- There's also hints of jealousy in here, just to be honest.

Here I sit in the turbulent wake of his glory. The umbrella overhead is beat in the back just to keep him cool; the white plastic legs buckle faithfully beneath his ham; the table arrayed by the fruits of fortune, joking all the while to pass the afternoon with those who will laugh at his ignorance, because they enjoy it. He sits with those who understand economics, or at least how to get what they please, even when it's "not for sale." For all this, he has taken home a trophy which sits on a low shelf, content just to look at his splendor and favor. I eat the sand for breakfast and drink the sea for salt on this strange and lonely island, watching animals bare their under-exposed selves like chunks of pork in queue for the grill, while others lick their lips and close in.

 

[RnJ]

My mind blurs by the stores, the story of the war, and everything so solid.
Isn't it poetry?
All that happens without our consent
All stories unfolding endlessly
How many people have I not been
Feelings have I not felt
Photographs have I not been in
Languages have I not understood
Intersections have I not stood at
How it all fits together we'll never know
Who we've all hurt and loved
It all goes miles and miles beyond us
How it ends we'll never know
I carry the weight and say
I'm not afraid to say I don't know anymore

 

[tree hopper]

love it......! thanks for sharing. i think it fucken rocks.

 

[katbastard]

how am i privileged
just cuz i am white and male?
what you don't know ,
is that my life has been pillaged
living in this eternal hell
trailer parks and homelessness
lonely nights in prison
never knowing happiness
what was my sin?
so, when you say that i am privileged
you really have no idea
so keep your fucking mouth shut
until you've lived within my sphere.

 

[katbastard]

The biggest fool
As you sit and wait
for that ride
you caste your bait
under the insanely hot sun
sometimes you wish you just had a gun
with it, you'd end your pain
away you wish your life to drain
the end you want and wish for
always knocking on deaths back door
just take me away
quietly as you can
away from this life
away from this land
I guess thats why I do what I do
trying to escape every one, even you
sometimes life is what it seems
when your alone and every one else are in teams
life has got you down
so you leave in search of a new town
towns where people are cool
places where there are no fools
will this dream ever come true?
Or am I the biggest fool... 

 

[katbastard]

All alone on lonely roads
traveling my life away
not knowing where Im going
can't remember where Ive been
I can't help but living my life in sin
these highways and byways
call my name in the heat and the night
all alone on lonely roads
the stillness gives me fright
karma and forever fate
holds my lifes ends date
but until then the world is mine
on society's dumpsters I will dine
until the time when this life is no longer mine

 

[katbastard]

i wrote those poems years ago, i always end up losing the things that i write.. but some how i still have those

 

[coolguyeagle76']

KB that was the shit!

 

[tree hopper]

loved those (@katbastard). awesome.

 

[katbastard]

Noname Man

he had no name
or so the crowd thought as they passed him by
but as night when he lay on that old park bench
he would look through the trees at the star filled sky
his name was some one
a father, son, uncle
but yet everyone
thought that this man's life was done

 

[katbastard]

thanx for support, might start writing again

 

[Ithyphallic]

Definitely think you should start writing again man! It's always good to have inspiration close to the surface of thoughts.




Desire, it requires of me
to be free
and to make for the sea,
learn to just be.
To elaborate is to saturate the colour,
to invest in this feeling.
Lowering, kneeling, a prayer for the winds is
my rejection of sins.
Passion is the favoured fashion today.
Shall I ask the stars, "Please come out and play?"
Or will I fall too far, trampled by the tsar.
Would, if I could, laugh at this blunder
but where are you now?
Have you been cast underground?
Kicked and been clowned?
Or are you just ... NOW?
Question but no lesson
Feats but no feast
Tears but no fears
What manner of puzzle is this?
I know I must desist
For moss only grows on the festering loss,
not on this lust that I can't seem to just....Let it
Be
Free

Whisper words of wisdom
Let it.

 

[katbastard]

@Ithyphallic
like that last one, i am going to have to read all of themin this post. did not expect the warm reception .

 

[ericafuckyea]

intentional digression because no words apply
grey eyes like caves in early morning and hair like broken bones
when you left i took your toothbrush and the ekg sticker off your wall
because i wanted to
understand you
you remind me of an indian woman back straight against the wall
wrapped in inumerable furs and hiding inside
the fiery sun
so maybe that's why your corner of the room was always darkest
and your mouth shining
beneath its layers of dust

 

[ericafuckyea]

rain drips from the roof above my head like / caramel from a spoon
silver like mirrors / that are falling too fast for me to catch my reflection
i'm working on my nicotene stains / biting holes in my lip / and laughing into the static darkness
because anythings better than crying
smoke curls upward into a pocket of air / stark naked and pushing against
the rainy 8o'clock nite
i glance to someones shed next to me and i think
these people are the epitom of good neighbors / remembering how many times have i
climbed over their fence to peek at their cars
or the window / to their kitchen
god i only wish it wasn't raining
i would climb between the shed and the glass building
lay on the roof like my own island
ignoring spiders because / without her
they don't need to warn me of predators
i contemplate cutting her name out of the sky / hanging right above me
but i'm too stunned to reach
amorously i / strecth my neck back
so as to look at the vertex where the roof and the garage door meet
i press my stomach / feeling for the umbilical chord
where is the vertex that connects me?
close your eyes and expand like a tide / into the unreality of tonite