miss-strange - Hello Poetry

Like putty to be molded no restraint of hand aye, there were struggles but slack must be dealt we are but frail and fragile except for our will.

0

Nov 27, 2012

Nov 27, 2012 at 11:13 PM UTC

impertinence

Like putty to be molded no restraint of hand aye, there were struggles but slack must be dealt we are but frail and fragile except for our will.

6

you try, but no one cares you speak, but no one listens you scream, but there is no sound your ques are missed ignored wisdom everyone's too obsessed with their own clouded mind you're problems are small, and insignificant remember to just smile remember to just nod and die quietly inside

0

Nov 27, 2012

Nov 27, 2012 at 8:37 PM UTC

semaphorism

you try, but no one cares you speak, but no one listens you scream, but there is no sound your ques are missed ignored wisdom everyone's too obsessed with their own clouded mind you're problems are small, and insignificant remember to just smile remember to just nod and die quietly inside

10

reaching a point of eruption the festering has spread the infection exacerbation has reached the limit now my cup is over flowing things, memories, sights and smells now engulfed in fiery rage I detest you nay, I loathe the very thought of you even now you steal a piece of my being it's not your's, it doesn't belong to you nor should have ever been this hatred is exhausting and I want to burn it to the ground

0

Nov 26, 2012

Nov 26, 2012 at 9:45 PM UTC

paroxysm

reaching a point of eruption the festering has spread the infection exacerbation has reached the limit now my cup is over flowing things, memories, sights and smells now engulfed in fiery rage I detest you nay, I loathe the very thought of you even now you steal a piece of my being it's not your's, it doesn't belong to you nor should have ever been this hatred is exhausting and I want to burn it to the ground

13

This strange egg you've incubated has sprouted skinny chicken legs. It follows you around clucking at every throaty word you nasty-utter. Pointing and pecking at your guilt borne by some years ago sin which all others hatch from and you keep feeding, Remorseful grains of misdeed shell grit to harden its anxious green shell. With no law outside itself the taint faint heartbeat of your reproof I hear beating like fear's unglued false eyelashes You soft swaddle it with empty gestures. It gestates in every grimace of piety. I watch it govern your vocation of drab and undramatic mastery of feathered illusion. I want to tear shreds in your black satin cape, To avalanche your fears into frosty exile. Burn them screaming in the blinding white of anemic unconscious, the blacking out. Hang a trophy **** of your winged demon taxidermied with glass eyes above my bed. My compass needle has lost your polarity there's just a crude representation of pain I will plant this seed you gave me, in Lethe; The River of Forgetfulness on its grey shore. A watery landscape without vanishing point. Where a white heron will weep tears of sorrow, like a human to feed hope's tender shoots.

0

Nov 4, 2012

Nov 4, 2012 at 4:31 AM UTC

Ovo Fervido Duro

This strange egg you've incubated has sprouted skinny chicken legs. It follows you around clucking at every throaty word you nasty-utter. Pointing and pecking at your guilt borne by some years ago sin which all others hatch from and you keep feeding, Remorseful grains of misdeed shell grit to harden its anxious green shell. With no law outside itself the taint faint heartbeat of your reproof I hear beating like fear's unglued false eyelashes You soft swaddle it with empty gestures. It gestates in every grimace of piety. I watch it govern your vocation of drab and undramatic mastery of feathered illusion. I want to tear shreds in your black satin cape, To avalanche your fears into frosty exile. Burn them screaming in the blinding white of anemic unconscious, the blacking out. Hang a trophy **** of your winged demon taxidermied with glass eyes above my bed. My compass needle has lost your polarity there's just a crude representation of pain I will plant this seed you gave me, in Lethe; The River of Forgetfulness on its grey shore. A watery landscape without vanishing point. Where a white heron will weep tears of sorrow, like a human to feed hope's tender shoots.

30