on the ground
thought not found
on that head
"oh man, we're old"
soon be dead
a needle earned
gone fast like a jet
they got a ticket
from the street guy
a new trinket
and they'll leave
There was no noise,
When I saw you but
Loud scrapes of wheels
Some chattering, ignored
And I like it. Being
'in my own little world'
I like it it is mine and I like it
But people like you break it,
Popping my sensory little bubble.
I want your blood to deafen me
Not the waves of water but
Nothing from my own world now
It's washing down the plug hole.
Under the rain we ran and we splashed
Like we were children again
The clouds were dark
And there was no sun
But you shined your brightest then
Your eyes so blue
They capture you
And never let you go
They watched as I took your hand
And placed it near my heart
I knew you could understand
Kiss they said
And my cheeks glowed red
Even though I've kissed you before
Kiss they said
And I turned my head
And began to blush more
It was in the moment
I decided to do it
I pulled you in
And the kiss began
And damn, I wish it didn't end
What a small weight for the most important gas,
that is keeping us alive.
I was 16 when I realized that my mom
had forever been my biggest supporter.
I was 16 and I was still holding my fingers crossed behind my back,
hoping that Santa was real.
I'm the hidden meaning behind good reasons
that have paved the way toward bad choices.
For I have realized, sitting silently in the corner,
that we are all forced to realize our
own self destruction.
Like the building and the wrecking ball,
of which I am often both.
I am your overspoken words and unsaid thoughts.
I am not the beautiful bare trees in the winter,
but instead I am your poisonous dinner.
I am the passion behind tears
and the emotion behind screams.
I am the thoughts that keep you up at night,
and your cold, bare feet.
I resemble a constant string of avoidance and indecisiveness.
I am your dewy eyes and groggy voice at 7:30 in the morning.
I am nothing but a blinking statue.
I am 16 years worth of unanswered questions.
Yet in 16 years will all I be is
another 16 years older?
I am the epitome of drowning without water,
and not to spoil the ending for you,
but I still have 16 years worth of faith,
that everything will be okay.
so damn innocent
and I took it all away
I spoke to her like a jazz band
and her to me like dorothy to kansas
I colored her into the psychotic and depraved shades
the portions of the picture that you don't bother to look at
I wilted the flower
Just so damn innocent
To whom it may concern,
I’m staring at the Knife of Life,
a bark blade from the Tree of Life,
bound to us like our own shadows,
sapping all, from doe to meadows.
A slow torturous fact that sticks
us all the way down to our wicks,
shooting prickling pain up the spine.
Freedom lies in the speed of time.
I don’t know that all have the will
not to hasten their blood to spill,
when patience is waiting to die.
Yours (since God died a long time ago),
The one who yearns
for a flowering fern.
Dear one, who yearns for a flowering fern,
Mortality does bring us Death,
but please know, there is more than pain
before that final ounce of breath
those lovely lungs let flee in fain.
Life’s about swinging on those strings,
warm connections that tie us all,
and caring for each other’s wings,
should lightning strike and have you fall.
Let me pick you up now with love.
You are more than enough to be,
you are worth the space in my glove.
I’ll free you that quivering knee,
just lean in my embrace with hope.
I won’t leave you alone to cope.
With love to fill your days,
The one who hears your cries,
in the void of the open skies,
who will show you better than a magic fern,
a home to mend your broken heart and let return,
because I’m the one who you have to be concerned
Another one got caught today, it's all over the papers. "Teenager Arrested in Computer Crime Scandal", "Hacker Arrested after Bank Tampering"...
Damn kids. They're all alike.
But did you, in your three-piece psychology and 1950's technobrain, ever take a look behind the eyes of the hacker? Did you ever wonder what made him tick, what forces shaped him, what may have molded him?
I am a hacker, enter my world...
Mine is a world that begins with school... I'm smarter than most of the other kids, this crap they teach us bores me...
Damn underachiever. They're all alike.
I'm in junior high or high school. I've listened to teachers explain for the fifteenth time how to reduce a fraction. I understand it. "No, Ms. Smith, I didn't show my work. I did it in my head..."
Damn kid. Probably copied it. They're all alike.
I made a discovery today. I found a computer. Wait a second, this is cool. It does what I want it to. If it makes a mistake, it's because I screwed it up. Not because it doesn't like me... Or feels threatened by me.. Or thinks I'm a smart ass.. Or doesn't like teaching and shouldn't be here...
Damn kid. All he does is play games. They're all alike.
And then it happened... a door opened to a world... rushing through the phone line like heroin through an addict's veins, an electronic pulse is sent out, a refuge from the day-to-day incompetencies is sought... a board is found. "This is it... this is where I belong..." I know everyone here... even if I've never met them, never talked to them, may never hear from them again... I know you all...
Damn kid. Tying up the phone line again. They're all alike...
You bet your ass we're all alike... we've been spoon-fed baby food at school when we hungered for steak... the bits of meat that you did let slip through were pre-chewed and tasteless. We've been dominated by sadists, or ignored by the apathetic. The few that had something to teach found us willing pupils, but those few are like drops of water in the desert.
This is our world now... the world of the electron and the switch, the beauty of the baud. We make use of a service already existing without paying for what could be dirt-cheap if it wasn't run by profiteering gluttons, and you call us criminals. We explore... and you call us criminals. We seek after knowledge... and you call us criminals. We exist without skin color, without nationality, without religious bias... and you call us criminals. You build atomic bombs, you wage wars, you murder, cheat, and lie to us and try to make us believe it's for our own good, yet we're the criminals.
Yes, I am a criminal. My crime is that of curiosity. My crime is that of judging people by what they say and think, not what they look like. My crime is that of outsmarting you, something that you will never forgive me for.
I am a hacker, and this is my manifesto. You may stop this individual, but you can't stop us all... after all, we're all alike.
Written January 8, 1986
Patted into sticky spheres of tender delight and spotted with chocolate chips.
I watch carefully as they melt into the dough.
The smell of overpowering joy wafes throughout my tickled
nostrils, and having to wait another second for them to cool
is anything but bearable.
All I can think as they rest on a plate before me is,
“They’re mine, ALL MINE!”
I grab one and let it explore my impatient
taste buds as it travels down the dark tunnel
and into a tomb of pure happiness.
Like a mother to a child, I hold you tight
(Into my stomach, that is). How can something
so small cause so much explosive
excitement to travel through my veins?
Chocolate chip cookies are little bites of heaven.
Narrow dusty trails,
Under a black sky,
It's not like the city,
The stars don't illuminate the cold, empty dessert,
Here they just forsake you.
Lantern hitched to saddle,
All it means is you can't see more than three feet ahead of yourself,
Just deep, pitch black, inescapable darkness.
Praying for safe passage,
Armed for knowing better,
It's not fear of the dark, of course,
It's the fear of not knowing what lingers in it,
Coyotes, wolves, maybe a mountain lion,
None of 'em compare to bandits,
It's reminiscent of Twain,
Nothing like a coward using the dark to his advantage.
Red on the horizon,
Anxiety begins to sink as peach seeps into the sky,
Survived the night,
Hope to survive another,
Under a black sky
From the dying firelight I stand ,
Burning embers fry my feet where I stood!
I stand in your honour,
Proud as love lives!
Life will thrive,
Nourished and nutured,
As natures' own dreams intended!
As crippled soul,
I am restrained,
I don't love,
I want no love,
I know no love,
Other than your proviso,
Love could kill,
If I'd let her,
I won't she has no holds,
She has no boundaries,
Strength in my honour,
No others have these causal effects,
Tragic, nonetheless magic,
My claws rip at the tide of flowing love,
Scratching myself on the way!
Life is deathly in dark hallows!
Light will prevail ...no qualms!
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
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