ryan-pemberton - Hello Poetry

wind, think-bits, and traffic. they all mesh up and dawdle through the goon-soaked mind. okay. this is a fine kind of semi-quiet. a motorbike, revving to explode cuts through the noise and commands me: "listen to me groan. boy am I ever alive." on the bike, I can't help but suppose, there's a person. and I further suppose a rush, sweet, vicious rush of adrenaline. a lurching in the ***** a landscape of streetlights and gust, ******* screaming straight through. out there. maybe there's two of them? and the wheels just spinning and spinning and spinning. and back here my head's just spinning and spinning and spinning, while people are out there tunneling through to the edge of death. **** now I gotta get up and write all this down just so I don't feel like a mollusk.

0

Dec 26, 2014

Dec 26, 2014 at 8:26 PM UTC

i can so very almost feel what you feel

wind, think-bits, and traffic. they all mesh up and dawdle through the goon-soaked mind. okay. this is a fine kind of semi-quiet. a motorbike, revving to explode cuts through the noise and commands me: "listen to me groan. boy am I ever alive." on the bike, I can't help but suppose, there's a person. and I further suppose a rush, sweet, vicious rush of adrenaline. a lurching in the ***** a landscape of streetlights and gust, ******* screaming straight through. out there. maybe there's two of them? and the wheels just spinning and spinning and spinning. and back here my head's just spinning and spinning and spinning, while people are out there tunneling through to the edge of death. **** now I gotta get up and write all this down just so I don't feel like a mollusk.

35

Get, get! Get yourself some medicine. Go, go! Get that tap-a-tap running Run, run! Getcha fav-a-rite teddy bear Yer tick-a-tack toy boat Yer Grand Ma-Ma's portrait Yer scenty-smelly bath bomb Yer dinky-danky diary Gonna have a bath with them! Shut, shut! Close that bath-a-room door and Chuck, chuck! The portrait into the tub-a-tub Jump, jump! the tub and let loose the bomb and take the drugs and rip the mind and throw the diary inside and take the razor blades you hide in the boat your mother gave you as a child and Rub, rub! Metal into flesh and sweet wetness. Let the bath turn thick and red and Let the colours in your head Converge and spit into the void Because You're already dead. Yeah!

0

Nov 21, 2014

Nov 21, 2014 at 7:08 AM UTC

Juxtapaditty!

Get, get! Get yourself some medicine. Go, go! Get that tap-a-tap running Run, run! Getcha fav-a-rite teddy bear Yer tick-a-tack toy boat Yer Grand Ma-Ma's portrait Yer scenty-smelly bath bomb Yer dinky-danky diary Gonna have a bath with them! Shut, shut! Close that bath-a-room door and Chuck, chuck! The portrait into the tub-a-tub Jump, jump! the tub and let loose the bomb and take the drugs and rip the mind and throw the diary inside and take the razor blades you hide in the boat your mother gave you as a child and Rub, rub! Metal into flesh and sweet wetness. Let the bath turn thick and red and Let the colours in your head Converge and spit into the void Because You're already dead. Yeah!

36

The brain is a field of minds, but only one knows how to talk. (Until you smoke DMT) Then You realise that the ability to point at things with your tiny mouth-sounds is overrated. The field of minds knows more than me. Sees more and feels more than me. I know eleven colours, maybe twelve if I try. I can hear thirteen notes (including B double-flat) And I feel all sorts of tingling in my skin and blood and belly. What do they see? What do they feel? What do they know? These extra minds... I bet they're just screaming at me. Every trip and tumble and **** up that I make, I bet they know A way out of that mess. But they don't talk. They just watch. "How'd we end up tied to this ******* Omniscient minds. Wasted. Frustrated. Enlightened. "Doesn't this ****** know how easy it is to live?" When your mind doesn't talk.

0

Nov 21, 2014

Nov 21, 2014 at 7:05 AM UTC

I'm a Man of Many Thinks

The brain is a field of minds, but only one knows how to talk. (Until you smoke DMT) Then You realise that the ability to point at things with your tiny mouth-sounds is overrated. The field of minds knows more than me. Sees more and feels more than me. I know eleven colours, maybe twelve if I try. I can hear thirteen notes (including B double-flat) And I feel all sorts of tingling in my skin and blood and belly. What do they see? What do they feel? What do they know? These extra minds... I bet they're just screaming at me. Every trip and tumble and **** up that I make, I bet they know A way out of that mess. But they don't talk. They just watch. "How'd we end up tied to this ******* Omniscient minds. Wasted. Frustrated. Enlightened. "Doesn't this ****** know how easy it is to live?" When your mind doesn't talk.

37

I think I know why poets get so ******* sad all the time. they live their whole lives in words. and suffering is a word.

0

Jun 4, 2014

Jun 4, 2014 at 10:19 AM UTC

Zenoid

I think I know why poets get so ******* sad all the time. they live their whole lives in words. and suffering is a word.

10

All hail Eris. Sometimes she rolls the dice and good things happen. Sometimes she rolls the dice and bad things happen. The way I see it you've got two options: a) cross your fingers b) don't cross your fingers There's no use shouting at dice. That precious breath would be better spent hailing Eris, or laughing at the whole facade. Everyone you'll ever meet is just another roll of the dice. the sinners, the saints, the foot fetishists, the celibates the Muslims and Jainists are created and destroyed as they are by a fickle flick of Eris' wrist. The friend who lied to your face, the ex who cheated on you and never had the guts to tell it to your face, the man locked in prison for child **** What separates you from the monsters? A roll of the dice.

0

Nov 24, 2013

Nov 24, 2013 at 9:26 AM UTC

dramatic discord

All hail Eris. Sometimes she rolls the dice and good things happen. Sometimes she rolls the dice and bad things happen. The way I see it you've got two options: a) cross your fingers b) don't cross your fingers There's no use shouting at dice. That precious breath would be better spent hailing Eris, or laughing at the whole facade. Everyone you'll ever meet is just another roll of the dice. the sinners, the saints, the foot fetishists, the celibates the Muslims and Jainists are created and destroyed as they are by a fickle flick of Eris' wrist. The friend who lied to your face, the ex who cheated on you and never had the guts to tell it to your face, the man locked in prison for child **** What separates you from the monsters? A roll of the dice.

33

I need a new pick up line. "Hi, I've got no confidence in myself but maybe if the two of us came together then I wouldn't need any." "You must be a Flinstone, because I can lick your ******** with a breath strip on my tongue." that's ******* my breath isn't minty fresh. at all. I wanted to be a poet, but I couldn't tell what bad poetry looked like. so maybe it's mine. so maybe I should stop looking. it's like: "I can't do it, so I won't try." it's like: "life's too short, so let's end it. baby." there's your pickup line.

0

Nov 9, 2013

Nov 9, 2013 at 9:18 AM UTC

when does the cohesion happen?

I need a new pick up line. "Hi, I've got no confidence in myself but maybe if the two of us came together then I wouldn't need any." "You must be a Flinstone, because I can lick your ******** with a breath strip on my tongue." that's ******* my breath isn't minty fresh. at all. I wanted to be a poet, but I couldn't tell what bad poetry looked like. so maybe it's mine. so maybe I should stop looking. it's like: "I can't do it, so I won't try." it's like: "life's too short, so let's end it. baby." there's your pickup line.

25

I have mixed feelings about pistachios. I love the taste, but I hate the mess of it. the peeling, the flakes under your fingernails, the pile of shells, all make you look like a gropey glutton. but it tastes so de- ******* -licious. so whenever I eat them, I get a sensation of half pleasure and half disgust in every bite. it's the most balanced thing i've found in life so far.

0

Nov 9, 2013

Nov 9, 2013 at 8:59 AM UTC

nuts will tell you who you are, probably

I have mixed feelings about pistachios. I love the taste, but I hate the mess of it. the peeling, the flakes under your fingernails, the pile of shells, all make you look like a gropey glutton. but it tastes so de- ******* -licious. so whenever I eat them, I get a sensation of half pleasure and half disgust in every bite. it's the most balanced thing i've found in life so far.

17

optimists and pessimists need each other to diffuse their respective perspectives. pessimists get too helpless. they feel everything is on them. it starts to feel like they think they're Atlas, or Sisyphus. pushing their boulder up the mountain, forever and ever alone. some inferiority complexes border on narcissism. optimists get too helpful. they burn so hot they forget that sometimes they can be as useless as the pessimists feel. most people that want to be positive, surround themselves with positive people. and negativity vice versa. this creates delusion. it makes happy people seeing all that's happy and unhappy people seeing all that's unhappy. no one group feels for the other and neither ends up feeling anything completely. you put yourself in a position where all your input contains a consistent confirmation of your stale, untested outlook. if nothing is tested, nothing is validated. that's just science. surround yourself with people that diffuse you. you need that tension. if nothing else, you won't get bored.

0

Nov 3, 2013

Nov 3, 2013 at 6:39 AM UTC

diffusion

optimists and pessimists need each other to diffuse their respective perspectives. pessimists get too helpless. they feel everything is on them. it starts to feel like they think they're Atlas, or Sisyphus. pushing their boulder up the mountain, forever and ever alone. some inferiority complexes border on narcissism. optimists get too helpful. they burn so hot they forget that sometimes they can be as useless as the pessimists feel. most people that want to be positive, surround themselves with positive people. and negativity vice versa. this creates delusion. it makes happy people seeing all that's happy and unhappy people seeing all that's unhappy. no one group feels for the other and neither ends up feeling anything completely. you put yourself in a position where all your input contains a consistent confirmation of your stale, untested outlook. if nothing is tested, nothing is validated. that's just science. surround yourself with people that diffuse you. you need that tension. if nothing else, you won't get bored.

53

I sure hope I never see you again. Every time I do it opens that old can of worms. I saw you once at a party, when I was throwing up on the bathroom walls and you laughed at me and I dreamt of you for days. One dream you told me if I brought you a human skull you'd add me on Facebook. All I could find were these teeth you knocked out of me. In another you played guitar on a staircase. through a ring modulator and asked if I wanted to play too. Then you ripped the wires out of the ring modulator and jammed them between my teeth. I've never seen a can of worms, but the way that you make me feel whenever I remember you is exactly the kind of condensed slime that makes up the can of worms that you are.

0

Oct 23, 2013

Oct 23, 2013 at 11:27 PM UTC

dream pressure

I sure hope I never see you again. Every time I do it opens that old can of worms. I saw you once at a party, when I was throwing up on the bathroom walls and you laughed at me and I dreamt of you for days. One dream you told me if I brought you a human skull you'd add me on Facebook. All I could find were these teeth you knocked out of me. In another you played guitar on a staircase. through a ring modulator and asked if I wanted to play too. Then you ripped the wires out of the ring modulator and jammed them between my teeth. I've never seen a can of worms, but the way that you make me feel whenever I remember you is exactly the kind of condensed slime that makes up the can of worms that you are.

35

my head is a skin tied water-shit. wobble minded and stench ridden. it bleeds diarrhea. an ache not of throbbing but like, pressurized wet tissue membraned balloon stuff. could pop any time. will pop. just a matter of time. seven thousand days now I've been lugging this bubbling froth-tank. this neck ornament. this ***** machine CPU. and all it does is complain about itself.

0

Jun 24, 2013

Jun 24, 2013 at 7:40 AM UTC

trough

my head is a skin tied water-shit. wobble minded and stench ridden. it bleeds diarrhea. an ache not of throbbing but like, pressurized wet tissue membraned balloon stuff. could pop any time. will pop. just a matter of time. seven thousand days now I've been lugging this bubbling froth-tank. this neck ornament. this ***** machine CPU. and all it does is complain about itself.

22