Purpleheads5 - Hello Poetry

I’m not inspirational I couldn’t write a hundred words about myself About my lashes, my sight, my health My bones, organs, and mouth The words that I speak Thoughts I breed Tunnels through which I bleed The sadness on which I feed I’ve been compared to Prufrock I’ve been compared to Poe Watch the ticking of the clock My skin as white as snow Veiny eyed, and sorrow side Future ends and rafts subside And for all the people like me Can agree to disagree That this world was too much And not enough There you go, a hundred words

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Feb 17, 2019

Feb 17, 2019 at 11:57 PM UTC

A Hundred Words

I’m not inspirational I couldn’t write a hundred words about myself About my lashes, my sight, my health My bones, organs, and mouth The words that I speak Thoughts I breed Tunnels through which I bleed The sadness on which I feed I’ve been compared to Prufrock I’ve been compared to Poe Watch the ticking of the clock My skin as white as snow Veiny eyed, and sorrow side Future ends and rafts subside And for all the people like me Can agree to disagree That this world was too much And not enough There you go, a hundred words

19

Scorpion, scorpion, who brought the pen The tip of its tail, the needles sharp end Poisonous dagger, To write all your wishes ****** soiled, bundled up tissues Issues and cashews and nuts Insanity. Rhinoceros, rhinoceros, have you the tusk The one on your nose, the jungled rough musk Broken and bleeding torn from your face Now beautiful laced girls Discover your pearls Thieves. Fathers and mothers, did you bring the child Shattered, broken, seen with both vile Bangs and pangs broken dishes, birds sang That night along with the screams Did you believe Destruction. Artist, artists, have you the pieces The ones of your life, sadness, defeation The black strokes, lonely tokes And pills and late sat to smoke What does it all mean, by life Uninspired. Dictators, dictators, did you bring your people The hobbled and squabbled, who prayed in the steeple Who hung from the rafters, and rang with the bells For whom it tolls, well, no one tells And lost citizens Vanish. Butterflies, butterflies, did you keep your promise Mottled, and bottled, spread across lawn mist To be beautiful, shiny with no varnish Your caterpillar state should not tarnish The wings you have now Growth. Children, children, did you steal the money For xanax, tricks, and acid, your'e funny Brain dead generation Same dread, memorization Of all the dead jokes Sad. Villagers, villagers, did you burn the witch The bloodied open stitch That tore the wound of the town And they all began to drown In truths they didn’t like Characters. Kitten, kitten, did you trick the boy Into finding your, mangled, ticked, body Squashed, splattered, with marks in your back Circled rocks, flowers, hit and smack The dirt down flat Betrayal. Conscience, conscience, did you make me feel that way For something I thought, for something I might not say For something I did, and something I am Why do you threaten Why do I listen shiver. Ghosts, ghosts, do you really terrify Blankets, and behind walls spy Sheets, and bags of treats You saw it all, naked Through the clear square wall, sacred Innocence. Creatures, creatures, you dwelled in the cave Red, glowing eyes. Blue burning rave You crawl out at night To get a good sight Of all of the people passed out drunk loneliness. Beware this place.

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Feb 11, 2019

Feb 11, 2019 at 11:57 PM UTC

Beware, Beware

Scorpion, scorpion, who brought the pen The tip of its tail, the needles sharp end Poisonous dagger, To write all your wishes ****** soiled, bundled up tissues Issues and cashews and nuts Insanity. Rhinoceros, rhinoceros, have you the tusk The one on your nose, the jungled rough musk Broken and bleeding torn from your face Now beautiful laced girls Discover your pearls Thieves. Fathers and mothers, did you bring the child Shattered, broken, seen with both vile Bangs and pangs broken dishes, birds sang That night along with the screams Did you believe Destruction. Artist, artists, have you the pieces The ones of your life, sadness, defeation The black strokes, lonely tokes And pills and late sat to smoke What does it all mean, by life Uninspired. Dictators, dictators, did you bring your people The hobbled and squabbled, who prayed in the steeple Who hung from the rafters, and rang with the bells For whom it tolls, well, no one tells And lost citizens Vanish. Butterflies, butterflies, did you keep your promise Mottled, and bottled, spread across lawn mist To be beautiful, shiny with no varnish Your caterpillar state should not tarnish The wings you have now Growth. Children, children, did you steal the money For xanax, tricks, and acid, your'e funny Brain dead generation Same dread, memorization Of all the dead jokes Sad. Villagers, villagers, did you burn the witch The bloodied open stitch That tore the wound of the town And they all began to drown In truths they didn’t like Characters. Kitten, kitten, did you trick the boy Into finding your, mangled, ticked, body Squashed, splattered, with marks in your back Circled rocks, flowers, hit and smack The dirt down flat Betrayal. Conscience, conscience, did you make me feel that way For something I thought, for something I might not say For something I did, and something I am Why do you threaten Why do I listen shiver. Ghosts, ghosts, do you really terrify Blankets, and behind walls spy Sheets, and bags of treats You saw it all, naked Through the clear square wall, sacred Innocence. Creatures, creatures, you dwelled in the cave Red, glowing eyes. Blue burning rave You crawl out at night To get a good sight Of all of the people passed out drunk loneliness. Beware this place.

73

Helicopter fingertips spinning like carousels and wizard’s spells Flying above the heads of the others, birds on the wing of existence Fifty cents and fifty burnt tents, hiding in the forest’s foliage And spoiling meat, a treat for seethe full beasts, entreating On the upper realm of the cranium that divides the imagined from the conscience The very small world clearly real and the steely peeled world that your eyes construct And puncture your thoughts and actions with imaginary people Imaginary places and spaces and other faces Even your own The eyes you see in the mirror in the morning are imagined windows with screens playing Carefully played out scenes and episodes and and anecdotes coated And smothered in the deceit of one’s own mind The kind mind that creates a fine land Much grander with sand and mountains, natural fountains Bountiful gardens, counting bars and suns and crows and people as you walk along the digital highway, computer brain, ball in nothing and nothing it is Fizzy soda and murders in Minnesota Catastrophes in the east, beasts Gusting across plains, and stains of Death and burnt woods and the lights of the ones that destroy the planet And grand pits that aren't even there What a beautiful place that doesn’t exist.

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Feb 9, 2019

Feb 9, 2019 at 7:52 PM UTC

Your Existence is Only in My Own

Helicopter fingertips spinning like carousels and wizard’s spells Flying above the heads of the others, birds on the wing of existence Fifty cents and fifty burnt tents, hiding in the forest’s foliage And spoiling meat, a treat for seethe full beasts, entreating On the upper realm of the cranium that divides the imagined from the conscience The very small world clearly real and the steely peeled world that your eyes construct And puncture your thoughts and actions with imaginary people Imaginary places and spaces and other faces Even your own The eyes you see in the mirror in the morning are imagined windows with screens playing Carefully played out scenes and episodes and and anecdotes coated And smothered in the deceit of one’s own mind The kind mind that creates a fine land Much grander with sand and mountains, natural fountains Bountiful gardens, counting bars and suns and crows and people as you walk along the digital highway, computer brain, ball in nothing and nothing it is Fizzy soda and murders in Minnesota Catastrophes in the east, beasts Gusting across plains, and stains of Death and burnt woods and the lights of the ones that destroy the planet And grand pits that aren't even there What a beautiful place that doesn’t exist.

21

Words are not inherently ugly Humans attach their grotesque behavior to the malleable medium And money education trains The youth about the importance of the unimportant potion Sprinkled like lemons and grapefruit across the forest Most and all were not tall enough to reach the nectared fruit Textured bumpy and satisfactory and fed through factories To make the educated money wrapped back in the loop Scoop some Kafka soup, and chew the beetles Bumbling and fumbling through your cheeks Pinching beaks and streaks of lightning and thundered blood ran trickled and thud Upon your open front steps; accepting misfits and **** and other assorted Atrocities and monstrosities of destroying human beauty for feud and smoky wealth like stealth In the middle of the night. Sky and pry your eyes to see the mind behind the eye you pried and spied on your inner mind that spine that ran down the central line to the bony roots and sooty Footprints you stint and punt skunks across gardens spread with gold leaf and fake teeth that Fed on the gold leaves and healthy sleeves of fruit ribbon sliding down their throats and training The train that sped and fled to the brain where its caboose took refuge in the huge open space The wasteland and sandy shores that sat on the crevice of the nestled edges across the peaks of the brain membrane that weaved and waned throughout the outer rims of the end of the circles through which you see to see. On these slippery banks, words and earthly things are mixed by the human Nature in a saturated and man made ugliness.

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Feb 9, 2019

Feb 9, 2019 at 7:41 PM UTC

The (Roll) (Role) (Rule) of the Tongue

Words are not inherently ugly Humans attach their grotesque behavior to the malleable medium And money education trains The youth about the importance of the unimportant potion Sprinkled like lemons and grapefruit across the forest Most and all were not tall enough to reach the nectared fruit Textured bumpy and satisfactory and fed through factories To make the educated money wrapped back in the loop Scoop some Kafka soup, and chew the beetles Bumbling and fumbling through your cheeks Pinching beaks and streaks of lightning and thundered blood ran trickled and thud Upon your open front steps; accepting misfits and **** and other assorted Atrocities and monstrosities of destroying human beauty for feud and smoky wealth like stealth In the middle of the night. Sky and pry your eyes to see the mind behind the eye you pried and spied on your inner mind that spine that ran down the central line to the bony roots and sooty Footprints you stint and punt skunks across gardens spread with gold leaf and fake teeth that Fed on the gold leaves and healthy sleeves of fruit ribbon sliding down their throats and training The train that sped and fled to the brain where its caboose took refuge in the huge open space The wasteland and sandy shores that sat on the crevice of the nestled edges across the peaks of the brain membrane that weaved and waned throughout the outer rims of the end of the circles through which you see to see. On these slippery banks, words and earthly things are mixed by the human Nature in a saturated and man made ugliness.

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