nathaniel-justice - Hello Poetry

Thisgoddamnteacup Is empty again Hare must of drank it. Hipity Hop Mouse In Thisgoddamnteapot Taste Like **** In Vinegar One March hair Two MARCH hair Three MARCH HAIR Plucked plumped plopped Hot and taut in a steaming food *** last time that march hare empties Thisgoddamnteacup

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Mar 19, 2011

Mar 19, 2011 at 9:17 AM UTC

The Hatter

Thisgoddamnteacup Is empty again Hare must of drank it. Hipity Hop Mouse In Thisgoddamnteapot Taste Like **** In Vinegar One March hair Two MARCH hair Three MARCH HAIR Plucked plumped plopped Hot and taut in a steaming food *** last time that march hare empties Thisgoddamnteacup

17

If the world were flat I would argue there would be more suicides, Jumping from the edge of the earth. The act would somehow be more redeemable Than say, swimming into a concrete walkway. City crews wouldn’t have to wash the mess and children wouldn’t see the naked truth. The news could do an expose On this trendy new trend In the inward homicidal debauchery. I imagine the lower three miles would be much like purgatory The pale-blue breath holders With their glass frozen eyes All floating in the under earth Not sliced and bleeding, Or comatose from pills, Or lessening the brain via bullet, Or gas like Plath, Not even rope burn from a hangman’s noose. No if the world were flat, they would be floating. Some stitched with government satellites Payment in the mail for their families. Why yes there are other benefits too Like executions, Orbital burial and visits, even gps tracking. But I am no sales man You should talk to Samuel Birley Rowbotham He holds a parallax Between history and accounting.

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Feb 24, 2011

Feb 24, 2011 at 10:19 PM UTC

The International Flat Earth Society

If the world were flat I would argue there would be more suicides, Jumping from the edge of the earth. The act would somehow be more redeemable Than say, swimming into a concrete walkway. City crews wouldn’t have to wash the mess and children wouldn’t see the naked truth. The news could do an expose On this trendy new trend In the inward homicidal debauchery. I imagine the lower three miles would be much like purgatory The pale-blue breath holders With their glass frozen eyes All floating in the under earth Not sliced and bleeding, Or comatose from pills, Or lessening the brain via bullet, Or gas like Plath, Not even rope burn from a hangman’s noose. No if the world were flat, they would be floating. Some stitched with government satellites Payment in the mail for their families. Why yes there are other benefits too Like executions, Orbital burial and visits, even gps tracking. But I am no sales man You should talk to Samuel Birley Rowbotham He holds a parallax Between history and accounting.

31

Death seems all too natural. like a thief of time, he lurks in the shadows preying on the soul; and then later laying us hand by hand into the darkness we will never emerge from. Covered over and then forgotten the constant hunger for fresh air ceases, as the pine gives the remaining whisper a stale kiss. Stiffened and fading in our last slumber in which death has taken the meaning from sleep, our thoughts go no further than the last kiss we meet. Maybe one day daises will grow at our head.

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Nov 2, 2010

Nov 2, 2010 at 7:25 AM UTC

Daises will grow

Death seems all too natural. like a thief of time, he lurks in the shadows preying on the soul; and then later laying us hand by hand into the darkness we will never emerge from. Covered over and then forgotten the constant hunger for fresh air ceases, as the pine gives the remaining whisper a stale kiss. Stiffened and fading in our last slumber in which death has taken the meaning from sleep, our thoughts go no further than the last kiss we meet. Maybe one day daises will grow at our head.

13

Have I fell out of uncommon valor To which these stars will no longer shine? Or hearts nor long for? The sanctity of my mind protrudes on to its masters heart and soul. It suffers sickness which thou might sense as a weakness Which infects and festers in the body. How can thou see I as me when I see only pain and fear? Thou must stab this dagger through my heart so perchance I might meet a lasting slumber, For I have loved and lost, fought and died. I shall not be remembered For it is men with strong hearts and souls that are remembered I, weak from breathing, will fade as the sun into the horizon There shall be no memory of my legacy No memorial to my small feats. My sprit will die in a young woman’s heart.

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Nov 2, 2010

Nov 2, 2010 at 7:22 AM UTC

Untitled 1

Have I fell out of uncommon valor To which these stars will no longer shine? Or hearts nor long for? The sanctity of my mind protrudes on to its masters heart and soul. It suffers sickness which thou might sense as a weakness Which infects and festers in the body. How can thou see I as me when I see only pain and fear? Thou must stab this dagger through my heart so perchance I might meet a lasting slumber, For I have loved and lost, fought and died. I shall not be remembered For it is men with strong hearts and souls that are remembered I, weak from breathing, will fade as the sun into the horizon There shall be no memory of my legacy No memorial to my small feats. My sprit will die in a young woman’s heart.

16

I am a person Full of blood and a growing heart Full of breath and a shaken sprit I bruise and heart break still finds me I cry and laugh I'm a trip down memory lane Or that new path you never thought to take. I make mistakes I'm just skin and bones I am awkward I am me No need to explain my self Just sleeping Dreaming Hoping I like to live my life that way Its simplicity in a complicated world. I am a person This is what I am

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Nov 2, 2010

Nov 2, 2010 at 7:18 AM UTC

What I am

I am a person Full of blood and a growing heart Full of breath and a shaken sprit I bruise and heart break still finds me I cry and laugh I'm a trip down memory lane Or that new path you never thought to take. I make mistakes I'm just skin and bones I am awkward I am me No need to explain my self Just sleeping Dreaming Hoping I like to live my life that way Its simplicity in a complicated world. I am a person This is what I am

19

Lying under trees, we breath. As the wind dances in the leaves, The blue sky pokes through the forest green. Birds sing. We enter sleep under the brown-gray bark And we dream. You dream of life, And I of death. We are connected. As this tree's roots are to the very soil it's rooted in, You're rooted in my heart. I still lie here on top of the emerald grass, And you have become one with this tree, the roots embracing you in an everlasting slumber. When the fall comes and the leaves fade to their reds and oranges And finally plunge to the emerald sea below, I will be covered with you. As winter stalks its way past fall, the first blankets lay atop, And I lie there still covered in the remnants of you. The roots of my heart shiver And I leave to find warmth with the evergreen. As spring enters, the weather surpasses, Leaves return to your barren form. I however shall not return for the thought That I may not become part of the soil you remain rooted to, Fear that we will not remain acquainted in the next life. but I still live and breath. And the conquest of this life will be over soon enough And Then I might return to this spot---- Lying under trees.

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Nov 2, 2010

Nov 2, 2010 at 7:15 AM UTC

Lying under trees

Lying under trees, we breath. As the wind dances in the leaves, The blue sky pokes through the forest green. Birds sing. We enter sleep under the brown-gray bark And we dream. You dream of life, And I of death. We are connected. As this tree's roots are to the very soil it's rooted in, You're rooted in my heart. I still lie here on top of the emerald grass, And you have become one with this tree, the roots embracing you in an everlasting slumber. When the fall comes and the leaves fade to their reds and oranges And finally plunge to the emerald sea below, I will be covered with you. As winter stalks its way past fall, the first blankets lay atop, And I lie there still covered in the remnants of you. The roots of my heart shiver And I leave to find warmth with the evergreen. As spring enters, the weather surpasses, Leaves return to your barren form. I however shall not return for the thought That I may not become part of the soil you remain rooted to, Fear that we will not remain acquainted in the next life. but I still live and breath. And the conquest of this life will be over soon enough And Then I might return to this spot---- Lying under trees.

29

The glass beneath my feet, I walk along this path Narrow and treacherous The blades almost glass I walk barefoot non-the-less. Seeking sand between my toes And sun on my back. This grass could be worse Slicing my hills atop the jagged rocks Bleeding until my heart stops. I need to find my rest As the moon climbs high in the sky And the sun plummets to the abyss Must I seek out a cave or forest canopy? Beyond the borders of my four foot path I cannot see A curtain of darkness shrouds both sides There once was a world outside this path I know there must be another direction than the path I walk. One of beauty and tenderness But I have seen neither beauty nor tenderness And my mussels have began to ach And honestly, I fear the rest for I might not wake I once came upon this flower The stem stood tall and the bloom grew red and blue. Beauty grew from this path And I picked this flower Because I must have this beauty with me, In the instant, the roots left the ground The flower wilted to a dull black and crumbled in my hand A world that must remain beyond the darkness Beyond my path Has been picked and wilted And left blindness among people I now stagger along this four-foot wide path Missing most the autumn leaves That never falls to my path. The glistening snow Which has never been underfoot, The summer springs That I have not swam to cool my body. The seclusion however Doesn’t bring a thorn to my heart My fellow’s destruction Is greater than my destruction of beauty More tortures than the sight of this path They are the ones who have picked the world from my sight Therefore, which situation is better? Ones who see the horrors Or the one who believes it doesn't exist?

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Nov 2, 2010

Nov 2, 2010 at 7:07 AM UTC

Four-foot path

The glass beneath my feet, I walk along this path Narrow and treacherous The blades almost glass I walk barefoot non-the-less. Seeking sand between my toes And sun on my back. This grass could be worse Slicing my hills atop the jagged rocks Bleeding until my heart stops. I need to find my rest As the moon climbs high in the sky And the sun plummets to the abyss Must I seek out a cave or forest canopy? Beyond the borders of my four foot path I cannot see A curtain of darkness shrouds both sides There once was a world outside this path I know there must be another direction than the path I walk. One of beauty and tenderness But I have seen neither beauty nor tenderness And my mussels have began to ach And honestly, I fear the rest for I might not wake I once came upon this flower The stem stood tall and the bloom grew red and blue. Beauty grew from this path And I picked this flower Because I must have this beauty with me, In the instant, the roots left the ground The flower wilted to a dull black and crumbled in my hand A world that must remain beyond the darkness Beyond my path Has been picked and wilted And left blindness among people I now stagger along this four-foot wide path Missing most the autumn leaves That never falls to my path. The glistening snow Which has never been underfoot, The summer springs That I have not swam to cool my body. The seclusion however Doesn’t bring a thorn to my heart My fellow’s destruction Is greater than my destruction of beauty More tortures than the sight of this path They are the ones who have picked the world from my sight Therefore, which situation is better? Ones who see the horrors Or the one who believes it doesn't exist?

50

Lonely car seat next to me on a long journey lonely theater seat next to me watching a movie Lonely pillow next to mine lonely heart lonely mind empty seat at the table empty drink at the bar empty promises empty heart tattered man tattered life tattered hopes tattered dreams tattered things don't carry meaning so why should a man lonely, empty and tattered live on?

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Nov 2, 2010

Nov 2, 2010 at 7:01 AM UTC

lonely, empty and tattered

Lonely car seat next to me on a long journey lonely theater seat next to me watching a movie Lonely pillow next to mine lonely heart lonely mind empty seat at the table empty drink at the bar empty promises empty heart tattered man tattered life tattered hopes tattered dreams tattered things don't carry meaning so why should a man lonely, empty and tattered live on?

18

Melancholy heart, don't cry with your sickness, the sun rises yet again on her today. Melancholy, Oh Heart How did you break so easy? Oh heart that sickness flows so easy through your veins, Once we had such an embrace and now I have separated myself from you oh melancholy heart. Will you beat again in a fashion to embrace my soul? I dream not of youth or everlasting life but just an embrace of a blissful heart. Oh blissful heart where are you?

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Nov 2, 2010

Nov 2, 2010 at 6:59 AM UTC

Meloncholey heart

Melancholy heart, don't cry with your sickness, the sun rises yet again on her today. Melancholy, Oh Heart How did you break so easy? Oh heart that sickness flows so easy through your veins, Once we had such an embrace and now I have separated myself from you oh melancholy heart. Will you beat again in a fashion to embrace my soul? I dream not of youth or everlasting life but just an embrace of a blissful heart. Oh blissful heart where are you?

16

I loved you before I ever knew you. Sitting in my chalk on the side walk Waiting for the rain to wash away the days work, Hearing your hills, click, clack against the rough concrete pavement You were wearing your mothers shoes, dressed in her hat and gown Parading around the cul-de-sac in that bright red lipstick. I loved you from day one. When you tumbled, tripping on that long gown, Scraping your knees And me lending you my sucker so you wouldn’t cry. I loved you through the years. Through the fights, the heart ach, Through your mother’s death, And your father’s ***** I loved you when you loved him. Through the pain he caused you and the Depression you caused me. The tears we both cried. I loved you when you took my hand and said Forever. Through the first time we made love married. I loved you when you had our child. She looks just like her mother. I loved you . When you were laying there with the cancer that killed your mother. I loved you , and couldn’t say goodbye.

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Oct 29, 2010

Oct 29, 2010 at 8:40 AM UTC

I loved you

I loved you before I ever knew you. Sitting in my chalk on the side walk Waiting for the rain to wash away the days work, Hearing your hills, click, clack against the rough concrete pavement You were wearing your mothers shoes, dressed in her hat and gown Parading around the cul-de-sac in that bright red lipstick. I loved you from day one. When you tumbled, tripping on that long gown, Scraping your knees And me lending you my sucker so you wouldn’t cry. I loved you through the years. Through the fights, the heart ach, Through your mother’s death, And your father’s ***** I loved you when you loved him. Through the pain he caused you and the Depression you caused me. The tears we both cried. I loved you when you took my hand and said Forever. Through the first time we made love married. I loved you when you had our child. She looks just like her mother. I loved you . When you were laying there with the cancer that killed your mother. I loved you , and couldn’t say goodbye.

26