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Feb 2020 · 223
freestyle blabber #28
Proctor Ehrling Feb 2020
You're reaching the town
I left at your incentive
Your verb was a noun
My verb an adjective
I've built a rapport
On breaking my own heart unprovoked
You've built a house
You lie in it and burn to dust
Freestyle written in 3 minutes.
Dec 2019 · 348
unused line #5
Proctor Ehrling Dec 2019
You've changed the order to something strange
I've rearranged your change back to disorder
Don't know what to do with this one.
Dec 2019 · 1.1k
unused line #4
Proctor Ehrling Dec 2019
It sounded like a compliment, what you said
So I'll interpret it as "*******" instead
Dec 2019 · 159
freestyle blabber #27
Proctor Ehrling Dec 2019
I hope for brighter future
I hope that I'll be bright
I hope beggars find nurture
And place to spend the night
I hope that you find love
Have children and a spouse
I hope you'll have enough
My hopes could build a house
Freestyle written in 3 minutes
Dec 2019 · 397
freestyle blabber #26
Proctor Ehrling Dec 2019
I know what you think
But we will still drink
We're all cases for a shrink
But we will still drink
We'll be filthy, we'll stink
But we will still drink
In our ears, constant clink
But we will still drink
We can't dance to anything
But we will still drink
Feels like a cult, this our ring
But we will still drink
Our behaviour needs a swing
But we will still drink
Our songs make no ding
But we will still drink
It's fun like it's spring
But we will still drink
Can no longer tell any drink's distinctive sting
But we will still drink
The night has taken us under its wing
But we will still drink
We've had our necks on a string
But we will still drink
We miss half our lives in a blink
But we will still drink
[thanks, J.]
My pen's out of ink
**** it, the night isn't over
Wrote this yesterday on a friend's birthday party, she also contributed the closing lines. So thanks, J., much appreciated.
Nov 2019 · 170
freestyle blabber #25
Proctor Ehrling Nov 2019
Calm yourself, dear
There's nothing to fear
I'll always stay near
I hope that that's clear
So vast and so sheer
The world by your veneer
I hope that you'll cheer
Not crawl back to rear
You, like a blind seer
Predict your career
But then pierced with a spear
Crash between there and here
Crushed in a belvedere
Summer lasted all year
I inform you as a peer
Eye to eye, ear to ear
It doesn't seem you know which way to steer
From boardwalk on to pier
Where you drop a tear
For universe mere
Freestyle written in 14 minutes.
Nov 2019 · 477
freestyle blabber #24
Proctor Ehrling Nov 2019
You bought your test and passed your ticket
While I was kneeling by your spell
There might be no rest for the wicked
But I've been sleeping quite well
Spent an evening a while back coming up with rhymes and poems with a nice girl. This is one of the results.
Nov 2019 · 363
freestyle blabber #23
Proctor Ehrling Nov 2019
I cannot dance
But I've danced
I cannot sing
But I sang
I cannot play
But I've played
I cannot write
But I wrote
Not really a freestyle, for it was written a while back, but I've been complimented on it, so here it is.
Nov 2019 · 290
freestyle blabber #22
Proctor Ehrling Nov 2019
I've had the money
I've had the power
But for you, honey
I couldn't even grow a flower

I've spread the vermin
Became a parasite
But for you, darling
I couldn't even set it all aside
Freestyle written in 3 minutes.
Nov 2019 · 189
unused line #3
Proctor Ehrling Nov 2019
A relapse is beginning
With the walls thinning
Wanted to write a poem about alcoholism, but this is the only line I ended up liking in the whole thing, cause the poem itself is just too on-the-nose.
Nov 2019 · 1.5k
Savage Plights
Proctor Ehrling Nov 2019
Left hope behind
Abandoned fights
All vicious signs
Of savage plights

Felt like a flea
A parasite
All savage plea
To savage plight

Oh Sisyphus
Exhausted might
Lay in a hearse
Oh savage plight

Heathen in prayer
God-given right
Sign of the lair
Of savage plights

A crimson snow
And eyes of white
But don't you know
These savage plights

By Doom's own herald, God's own **** creatures all collide
Like ole rye barrelled, seasoned to withstand savage plights

Let woman cry
Let man be scorned
Let savage plights
Shut closing doors

He'll will stay frozen
Heaven forlorn
The savage chosen
***** of Babylon

Live off of plights
All but one savage
Dragged day and night
Your horseless carriage

Call it a burden
That is your right
One thing's for certain
It's savage plights

With mind so prurient
Give humans blights
From West to Orient
Come savage plights

Dorian-like picture on the wall, too mild a fighter for a knight
Was God-forsaken, after all, dealt sole with and to others each a savage plight
It's rare for me to actually write something complete and not an on-the-spot random blabber. Here it is. Decipher it at your own leisure.
Nov 2019 · 518
freestyle blabber #21
Proctor Ehrling Nov 2019
Belltowers chariot signalling distance
Towering gallows where I've been sentenced
The iridescence of coming doom
Graveyard daisies are in bloom
Their season is unusually sober
They've been growing whole October
So I got high and the next morning found this in my notebook.
Oct 2019 · 488
freestyle blabber #20
Proctor Ehrling Oct 2019
Atop a catafalque, the morbid pedestal lies placed up ahead
Beautiful casket of pale birch laced with marbled ornament
With a flower orangerie settled upon final resting bed
Grand expensive suit fitted perfectly the dead man, toes to head
Funeral home better than his living home; lived cheap, died rich instead
All costs money he never had
Oh the luxury of being dead
Freestyle written in 9 minutes. Inspired by the line "The luxury of being dead" professor Timothy Corrigan used to describe a moment in the film Vertigo on a lecture yesterday.
Sep 2019 · 185
Sérum Gorgas Gran Reserva
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
Serum sternly slaps
Unloosening your straps
Not as strong as other rhum
But still can bang on your heart drum
It's somewhat soft and somewhat oily
It doesn't taste rough, but rather sweetly
Beginner's drink, but not of avail
What shame, outside of Czech Republic it ain't for sale
A freestyle for my favorite alcoholic beverage, written in 2 minutes.
Sep 2019 · 301
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
We've signed that truce a couple hundred times
Still step on the same couple thousand mines
You break apart, make up, break apart, make up...
Sep 2019 · 405
freestyle blabber #19
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
The bridge you've built is toppled
Don't you dare act startled
You are where this started
Cry for mercy choking on the apple

The curse of you is cyclical
First compassionate, then cynical
You act as though it's typical
Body of desire biblical

In the body of water a body to love
Hunt like an eagle, drop like a dove
Or would you rather dive deep in the ruff?
Contemplate regal, incomparable stuff
Freestyle written in 16 minutes (got stuck trying to think of a rhyme for 'cyclical').
Sep 2019 · 718
freestyle blabber #18
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
So I shall no longer defend
New kinds of love that you invent
Ever-changing list of demands
Keeps contradicting its own commands
After the sin quick to repent
With brief engagements in descent
Straighten all that you have bent
Amend what you're yet to amend
Letting those you left all depend
On your attention already spent
At each new encounter decadent
Your passion wasted on random men
Though fell, kept grace, that's evident
For what it's worth your growth is imminent
Freestyle written in 5 minutes.
Sep 2019 · 270
a thought
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
My permanent mental state is an odd battle between paranoia and self-deprication.
Are they laughing behind my back or am I not worth a mention?
Sep 2019 · 812
freestyle blabber #17
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
I'm barely at home
There's my wooden furniture
These my plates of chrome
A fridge full of nourishment
My marble dome
But I'm barely at home

I've barely a hearth
This a room of my choosing
That there my land on earth
My book shelf for musing
Amenities for mirth
But barely a hearth
I don't have any place to feel at home... Freestyle written in 6 minutes.
Sep 2019 · 281
freestyle blabber #16
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
The system failed
I burnt my house
I seem so frail
As small as mouse
The ashes scatter
All around
It doesn't matter
I'm now unbound
Freestyle written in 4 minutes
Sep 2019 · 166
freestyle blabber #15
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
I'd love to love
I'd hate to hate
I lived enough
My path is paved

I used to use
The good to know
My soul refused
To let it show

I filled the gaps
With violent pours
And now it leaks
Out of my pores

Catastrophe reject
The hollow amass
Let him hit the reflex
Let him stand aghast
Freestyle written in 11 minutes.
Sep 2019 · 418
freestyle blabber #14
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
Torn up shirt
Ripped up blazer
Hair of dirt
Occam's razor

Tries to stand up
Hides the inability
Takes a step, has to stop
Law of probability
Freestyle written in 3 minutes.
Sep 2019 · 318
freestyle blabber #13
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
I've built on desire
My lungs to respire
The whole world entire
Till it goes down in fire
Freestyle written in 2 minutes.
Sep 2019 · 1.4k
unused line #2
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
The incumbent village idiot would be alarmed by my efforts, as he'd most likely perceive them as ones attempting to dethrone him.
Came up with this a while back. Still don't know what to do with it.
Sep 2019 · 526
freestyle blabber #12
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
You chugged down a pint of stout
Reason running in and out
Your friends cheering you on
Until all reason is completely gone
   In a moment of uncertainty
   You poise the possibility
   Of ordering another pint of that hilarity
You get another one and a shot
You feel your head spins and you're hot
You're being cheered on by your friend-squad
Reason's leaving, but you're not
   The evening just began
   And you feel a certain urge to dance
   Then that concludes
   You get the pint again
   And the reason still eludes
About the unreasonably high alcoholic consumption most folks go through at some point.
Sep 2019 · 696
freestyle blabber #11
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
This is all there is to me
Boredom, disappointment and debris
This is all I am about
Rudeness, deafness and bad snout
This is all I can provide
A few thousand grave warnings to mind
This I can assure you of
In a week you'll have enough
Felt a little down, when I wrote it. Freestyle written in 17 minutes.
Sep 2019 · 344
unused line #1
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
In our mutual agreement of togetherness, I was alone.
I'll just start posting lines I never found a use for, maybe this will be a good home for them.
Sep 2019 · 1.3k
freestyle blabber #10
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
Demented bandit
Redundant pundit
Fun time gambit
Screaming "Bomb it!"
Vicious *****
Cannot stand it
Mend it, bend it
Maybe tow it
How it goes
It goes all wrong
It wrongs no more
More than it should
But more it could
I guess it would
But that would hurt
Oh what a ****
The world is burnt
And I feel like a picture blurt
You've censored too much
Ventured too far
Gotten all such
Answers fewer
Violent fever
Violet furor
Volatile gore
Gory tumour
Coming back to something I used to do at the beginning of my presence here: writing actual freestyles. This one conjured up in 5 and a half minutes.
Sep 2019 · 151
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
You know we are in trouble, when the heathen starts to pray
When the unruly child starts to stack some jars of clay
When the fashion of tomorrow seems too close to one today
When you say you love me and it's me who doesn't want to stay

You can tell that we are done, when the preacher cries for signs
When the surgeon doubts his practice and a mother leaves her child
When the artist can't play songs he wrote and teachers fails to see their worth
You can tell that we are done, when it's me who wants what's mine

You could count all my mistakes on stars that we can't even see
I can count all yours on less than one hand's fingers and I only have the three
I could drown my sorrows in some *****, but it seems more like your style
So I suppose that I'm the one to realise I'm not worth your while
I also like Leonard Cohen.
Sep 2019 · 199
freestyle blabber #9
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
To ****** many men
One needs talent, wit and pen
To create beauty true and plain
One needs quite the same
Just a lil' something...
Sep 2019 · 304
freestyle blabber #8
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
I sprung at the pinnacle
Unwriting my chronicle
With love non-reciprocal
I shall start anew
I laid bare in muddle hub
With beasts of animal club
I'm stuck at the stub
And solitude brew
And so I continue to clear my notebooks of stuff that seems more-or-less cohesive enough to share here.
Sep 2019 · 533
freestyle blabber #7
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
My thorns turn blunt
My shields let arrows through
My life-risking stunt has left me life-still too
The echo comes from muttered den
The day's too violent
To youth that be I shout "Plague me again, miscreant"
The cave's ajar
The wounds are fresh
The head spins, body scarred
Treacle of death
The cold that swallowed me
It burns the soul that's spent
To love that reaching tries I shout "Plague me again, miscreant"
This was supposed to be a longer song lyrics, but I don't have the means of recording or any instrumental skill, so I gave up on that.
Sep 2019 · 770
freestyle blabber #6
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
A ghost of a house is a blueprint
A soul of a blueprint is a sketch
A sketch's spirit is in vision
And lemme tell you, your vision's quite a stretch
A guy I know has a tendency to develop things and plan for stuff he has no way of ever accomplishing. This little nugget js written in about 2 minutes.
Sep 2019 · 119
quickest little jab
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
It's next to hell
And burns as well
Told this to a friend about an hour ago, when he asked me where I lived.
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
The sun sempiternal shepherds its flock life-longly. Repetition be its brother, night be its foe. As regurgitation fumes, funneling heinous broth of decay and hostility, the tedium drips ashore, clenching its claws, raising the congregation of lunatics hellwards and in a moment of inseparable divisionism, bursts out loud, hardening the ground with desecration. Outbegotten and throughbrought, the once ****** ******* feral sons to the demented deity all above and none below, in turning, swirling and the ever-prying agony, facilitate themselves a house atop a hill. After the cacophony concludes, The Fool finds himself standing, thrice woven, wolfmeadow thrown, fistlike tenacity hit, once beholden to each beast of coppered glow. Up he reaches, but finding nought and disillusioned with disinterest he breaks down in acid tears and horrid shrieks for mercy. The inward calibre reciprocates and bursts out a tubular noise of contradiction. In all still-standing, the Queen, she of the all-overseeing, turns to The Fool and parlours him a wisdom: "I am unto you as a universe is unto itself. I am within you as this earth is within me. I am you and you I shall stay. And when you at once turn dust-wards, I shall, bereft but forthlooking, beget you again." Aghast with sudden agonising fragility and from the cosmic incantation a ghost arisen, The Fool in all his momentarily found glory and happiness conjectures himself a vessel to venture upon. What he once missed he now resides in. He found it and now he rejoices. To Youth, at long once and at once forever.
Inspired by GY!BE's "Undoing a Luciferian Towers" and a girl I know, who is obsessed with Boris Vian and all things avant-garde.
Sep 2019 · 394
freestyle blabber #5
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
Turns out I've been New Yorker for a while
But I tend to other business and I doubt I'll path the mile
For you see the city where I'm from is dense with garbage piles
I figured it's big and confusing and it's yet to make me smile
I don't come from there or from its region or really from a place worthwhile
See, my place is vast and I don't get it, it changes fast and is hostile
And I just can't key into it, neither mainland, nor the isle
So I figured that a Prague boy has been a New Yorker for a while
You ever felt suffocated in whatever town you live in? As though it were a metropolis...
Aug 2019 · 284
The Outskirts
Proctor Ehrling Aug 2019
I've lived in the outskirts all my life
I've met in the outskirts my friends and my wife
I've built in the outskirts a comfortable hive
I'll make in the outskirts my kids, four or five
I've been here in outskirts both night and day
I went to school, college, work in the same place
I've never been made aware of any other way
Than the one I've been using in outsirkts again and again
The outskirts are comfortable, the outskirts are safe
Nothing's ever going down there, neither good nor bad
There is no grand ambition behind its bland face
No life goals or life to love behind its made bed
In outskirts I've lived, loved, ate, ******, slept, dreamt, hated, berated, been bored and amused, adored and abused, depleted, exhausted, destroyed and rebuilt, encouraged and spewed, all encompassing comfort of life's dullest views
The outskirts are comfortable, they are always secure
In outskirts I've lived my whole life and more
All outskirts look the same, but mine is the best
For my outskirts is where my humble home stands
I'm an outskirts lad, born and raised. It's a comfortable life, but oh so boring.
Jul 2019 · 714
freestyle blabber #4
Proctor Ehrling Jul 2019
Shepherds, cobblers, carpenters and joiners of all creeds and worldly dreamers
You troubled souls, the brittle spirits drinking spirits cleaner
Taunted workers of yore, farmers gone and industries endowed
Disseminating futures, who's gonna build your ***** barrels now?
**** it, I'm going to work in a call center
Continuing clearing my notebooks. I think this one was supposed to be inspired by the death of coal industry and other types of jobs going extinct, but I am not sure anymore.
Proctor Ehrling Jul 2019
Everything costs money and you never have the time
Want to be an artist, but your poems can't seem to rhyme
Much disputed master of the obscure
Much opposed disrupter of the order
Guess the experiment went wrong
Just because your style is different, won't mean it's gold
Such a working actor
Such an active wreck
"So I think I missed my chance" you foam
Cause you're ageing and your Oscar ain't yet home
Truth be told and lies be laid
Youth eternal, at long once and once again
Too late you find your life a bore
Turning it all back is irresponsible and wrong
Don't beat yourself, cause their ways don't match with yours
You just haven't found that thing to make you less alone
Isolated, mocked and wrongly painted
Bereft, crestfallen, hardly tainted
well listen, i aint a real poet and this one I don't even really remember working on that well, so please be gentle on me.
Jul 2019 · 448
freestyle blabber #3
Proctor Ehrling Jul 2019
Acolytes of yon ole Stanstead
Told him he's been mislead
Well tough, ya old curmudgeon
See ya never, has-been's has-been
this one I found in my old notebook and for the life of me, I cannot remember what it means and who was the "ole Stanstead". I remember there was some character or a person I based it on from way back when, but I can't remember who he was. anyway, here it is, the clearing of my paper-hard-drive.
Jul 2019 · 373
freestyle blabber #2
Proctor Ehrling Jul 2019
Turmoil, breathing fast
Shackles of a sinful past
Run, you idiot, run
All you can do since you've been outgunned
That ought to teach you a lesson
You might grow, but there are parasites in the world of indiscretion
Shouldn't have revealed so much to her
Some things ought to never be unearthed
So now you run from the baddies
That's the cost of for once feeling you might be happy
inspired by Guy Ritchie's movies... even though none of his movies are about this (guess the criminal aesthetic is the commonality here). freestyle written in 6 minutes.
Jul 2019 · 254
Untitled #1
Proctor Ehrling Jul 2019
A night that begeth ghastly thrill
A darkness, all-encompass, nature filled
A chuckle swept my home through heavenstill
A devil sat there upon a windowsill
The shriek that creature made would drill
The echo reaching nearby mill,
The swamplands, gallows and the hills
The terror pulsed my body like a winter chill
written in that brief moment after reading Algernon Blackwood and Bram Stoker, but before realising I am neither of them. I also like to come up with words, bite me
Jul 2019 · 533
freestyle blabber #1
Proctor Ehrling Jul 2019
in a brief moment of silence
between the laughter and the violence
before my face was caught in brawl
after i said what i should not
right in the moment of misfortune
when i briefly felt tortured
right as i felt i was a *******
and then i collapsed down on my ***
in that moment of regret
why did i say what i have said
i should have thought about it first
and now my face got stamped with fists
but i guess we learn from our mistakes
attackers getting dragged away
im being asked if im okay
of course i am, it aint my first fist-crash
i shake it off and start acting like a ****** afresh
though his reaction was rather spastic
guess thats what i get for being actively sarcastic
about my inability to be serious and how i often come off as an ******* in conversations, leading to unfortunate outcomes. the pseudo-poem written in 8 minutes.

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