Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Alex George Jul 2015
A huge farm
Endless walking
I forgot who I was
Forgot my middle name
How I sign my signature
Gave my voice away
Flexed my throat like a professional
Teeth on display
I thought I’d see a black cloud
Or a gang of hands
Enveloping me
Choking me
But I was just left
Out in the bright light
With no disgusted eyes
Looking my way
Nobody asking for explanations

Just me talking to myself

Slit his ******* throat
So he doesn’t repeat
The story about his best friends
Jul 2015 · 279
Basic
Alex George Jul 2015
I will speak in the
Only language I know,
And you will listen
In the only language you know
conversation.chain=(c0mplete_1)
We will walk away
language, basic, program
Jul 2015 · 888
kilimanjaro
Alex George Jul 2015
delirious and dazed
in the silence of the beating,
artificial wind
I sit,
thinking of a beating,
artificial wind in a far away land.
Sep 2013 · 520
movement
Alex George Sep 2013
A nap parent
chan geint he
di rectiono fan
object,
ca used by acha
ngeino b servat
ionalpo sitiont
hat pro videsan
ewli neo fsight.
Aug 2013 · 387
a sad poem on regret
Alex George Aug 2013
a long long time ago
when we all were babies
we couldn't read or understand
we were openly racist and funny
we loved and hated
we still hated the future
but the reasons seemed to make sense
we had just one world

its so difficult now
to be realistic
to colour within the lines
to love and to hate
to say
two much
Aug 2013 · 580
One Song in Three Parts
Alex George Aug 2013
Three Persons

Where is this?
But, NO. It is everywhere.
Colours unite and divide.
But to the prism, it is just another day.
Why aren't the colours solid?
Why don't they meld into the prism?

How are we so sure?
That the ideas we think outshine every other.
That we have the power to change this sorry world.
We think of our superpowers.
But all we do ever is enable this amoeba
more and more everyday.
-
Green, endless green.
Maybe they think that they should create
Natural Parks and Sanctuaries
to protect humans from their deadly logic.
Hey! Maybe they do!
-
I await the beauty and the epics.
But beyond the turn, there is only a lake



2. The Swirl Begins

The first thought that comes to my mind
is the shape of shapes.
It's not about a square or a triangle or a circle in particular.
Just the idea of symmetry in the Third Dimension.
But sadly, so much brilliance and symmetry
adds up to form so much asymmetry.
Not that it isn't beautiful.
But somehow the point is lost in the heap.
What is perfect?
Thankfully my train of thought takes me
to more beautiful places.
Where 'symmetry', 'meaning' are just vibrations.. Sounds..
God! I want to believe!!
But not believing is so much fun!
**** that! Swirl!!



3. Paddy on the Rocks . [A Description]

Zombies and Aliens do not reside here.
We walk along without any fear.

Why, you ask?
We wish we could tell.

Somehow we realise
that it is here we can smell.

Drop.
Stop.
Swirl. Up..
Write.
Wish i didn't.
No i don't.
We all just don't know what we would do, if we could do whatever we think we wanted to do.
Swirl. Down.
SsHHhhh...
Aug 2013 · 460
jahazz+hair
Alex George Aug 2013
this is a deck it seems
the ***** i swallowed
will regurgitate soon enough

but i stand here at the edge of humanity
gawking at the beauty of the extremes.
a joke some of us pretend to understand.
a joke so terrible
nobody really wants to laugh.

time+the salty waves
have washed away the name of this ship
so you can call it whatever the ******* want
Aug 2013 · 315
morpher
Alex George Aug 2013
turn the page
into gold
-
the only thing that convinces me that I'm still sane
is that fact that i continue to question my sanity
Aug 2013 · 469
atlluacy
Alex George Aug 2013
Today I saw a shadow.
I asked him what the time was.
He told me to *******.
Jul 2013 · 227
-
Alex George Jul 2013
-
"I always pray to God
To give me more suffering
So i can talk to myself more"
Said a voice.
I think it came out of my mouth.
Jul 2013 · 431
us
Alex George Jul 2013
us
Some people are afraid of death.
Others of spiders.
Many fear extreme heat
Being trapped in a small box,
and having to think
of their shallow insides,
the mechanisms
which they disregarded for so long.
A transparent partition
Through which they can see
other oblivious, happy people.
Some fear this.
Of slowly running out of words
even as things become clearer
(A dramatic pause ensues)

Me? I'm just afraid of spiders..
Jul 2013 · 324
Forward
Alex George Jul 2013
what is tomorrow
but a photograph

of you, me and colours.

Although we are yet to decide
what is you
what is me

And who is colourful.
Jul 2013 · 3.1k
swimming
Alex George Jul 2013
What's the difference between
swimming and drowning, you ask?
Well, we only swim sometimes..
Jul 2013 · 522
Reykjavik
Alex George Jul 2013
spectral nonsense
last only a few centimeters.

After eight long years
we assemble again
with those old costumes
to play those old roles.
To complete the revolution.
But silly me,
I always forget to discount
the leap years..
Jul 2013 · 676
song 4d-scdl
Alex George Jul 2013
what if we are subjects
waiting in our cells.
not the uncomfortable kind.
but where we are important.
and we can download anything.

what if this is a moment.
a moment of decision.
in an assembly of aliens.

and at the immigration desk
we must state the purpose of our visit.

we cannot be too hasty.
Jul 2013 · 480
Signs
Alex George Jul 2013
As they revolved
Welcoming me
Into the mechanization
The clock whispered "10.10"
All the answers
were now vaguer. Better.
AFK
Jul 2013 · 507
blood
Alex George Jul 2013
I'm about seventy eight per cent sure
That ninety per cent of murderers
Lose it
Because they have become
Too tall for their favourite blankets.
Offense is the best defense now..
Jul 2013 · 951
Fellowship
Alex George Jul 2013
Standing.
Waiting.
I let the vehicles pass
Even if I can easily go across
Jul 2013 · 395
FE
Alex George Jul 2013
FE
The hearse ride was pleasant,
Through the glass windows
seeing people pass by.
But when I reached
the grave,
I realised
That there was a misprint
on my epitaph.
Now I must wait another day,
before they bury me.

— The End —