Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Closely I observe myself from afar.
My world transforms into a perplexed dream.
Earth-toned hues shine brighter than any star.
Perception composes a wary theme.
Contorted tree limbs mock every movement.
Eyes become filled with cotton candy clouds.
Conversations are no longer fluent.
Alone I walk in a burial shroud.
I pinch my arm to make sure I’m not dead.
Numb is the only sensation I feel.
Broken shards of faith bear a tint of red.
The face in the mirror doesn’t look real.
Existence slowly crumbles into sand.
I’m a stranger who roams this foreign land.
This is my first Sonnet. I thought I'd pay homage to a condition I've had for many many years. This condition has been defined as "The Alice in Wonderland disease."  It started on New Year's Eve 1996 when I smoked *** that was laced with something. The resulting effects still plague me from time to time; however I use it to my advantage now. Instead of running from it, I write about it. I really enjoyed the challege of writing a Sonnet, but ******* are my fingers tired from tapping.
Good morning, class!  I am your substitute teacher, and I will be teaching you your ABC’s today.  Let’s not waste time and just dive right in!


A is for Anxiety. That’s that feeling you get when you go to recess and see the bullies waiting for you on the playground.

B is for *******.  If you don’t know what that means, that’s when your daddy abandons you before he even gave you a chance.  

C is for Cranky.  That’s what I feel right now because I had to get up early today to come in here to teach you brats your alphabet, and I’m getting paid **** for it.  

D is for Dog.  Mine died, and if you have one, yours will eventually die too.   That’s another D word for ya.  

E is for Empty.  Empty hearts.  Empty souls.  Empty stares.  Empty lives.  

F is for Friends.  Friends will **** all over you.

G is for Girlfriends.  They’ll rip out your heart and stomp all over it.

H is for Hell.  It’s the world we live in.

I is for Idiot.  Which is what you are if you ask a question.

J is for *******.  Which is another term for donkey – another D word.

K is for Knife.  

L is for Love.  Your parents will tell you they love you, but they don’t mean it.

M is for Money.  If you want to make a lot of it when you grow up, deal drugs.

N is for Neglect.  That means when your parents ignore you cause they’re too busy with their pretentious jobs and their extramarital affairs.  If you don’t know what that means, don’t worry.  Time will teach you.  

O is for Optimistic.  Stay positive – just not ***-positive.

P is for *******.  Judging by the intelligence level of this class, that is a bright career opportunity for several of you.

Q is for Queasy.  Which is what you feel when you are hungover.

R is for Respect.  You don’t earn it.  You take it.

S is for Secrets that no one will ever keep.

T is for Tranquilizer.  I have one waiting for me for when I get home tonight.

U is for Ugly.  That’s adolescence.

V is for…   Only girls have them.

W is for Wood Chuck.  How much wood could a wood chuck chuck if a wood chuck could chuck wood?

X is for Xenophobic.   That’s what you will all grow up to be because your mom taught you to never talk to strangers.

Y is for Yes.  That's what you have to say to everyone to get anywhere in life.

Z is for Zoloft.  I should probably up my dose.
10w
We don’t need lobotomy’s anymore just watch the Jersey Shore.
Oh, and Keeping Up with the Kardashians...I think we can surpass them!
I became stunned by the roaring cheers from the townsmen.
The men and women herded together like cattle for this long-awaited celebration.
Countless faces known and unknown encircled me.
I had finally received my much-needed recognition.
I had become a phenomenon whose story would be passed on from generation to generation throughout the entire nation.
I noticed my cheeks had become soggy, stained with a salty residue.
At last I was someone, someone who attracted immeasurable admiration.
I eagerly looked around for my family; I wanted them to join me and take part in something so great, but they were not present.
This slightly saddened me, but it was rather short-lived seeing as how there were multitudes of attendees there to honor me.
I suddenly became distracted by the beauty of a young woman who possessed emerald eyes, red locks, and tiny-dotted freckles.
She came forth and put daisies before me and then quickly disappeared into the boisterous mob.
I called out to the woman, not knowing her name.
I wanted to run after her but I could not move.
I rapidly became frantic.
I was screaming, begging, and pleading, but no one bothered to help me.
They all just stood there staring at me; I felt pathetic.
Then there was a tall, broad man - a giant to be exact - who stood towering over me.
I noticed his freshly-polished, black boots were stained with crimson that trickled down, staining the ground.
His shadow blocked the sun and my view.
I looked up at him.
He started to slowly arch his back and descend towards my face.
I recognized him…
We recently had a brief encounter with one another.  
A peculiar man he was - he just stood in the corner of the stage, staring off into the distance without muttering a single word.  He was motionless, almost catatonic-like.   He didn’t even have the gall to face me during my commemoration.
He was clearly an insecure and paranoid fellow.
He hid under his blackened hood and guarded himself with a glistening, silver
axe.
10w
If I was a 10w, there would be ten words.
Step aside Aristotle, a new philosopher is in town.
Wake up in the morning, clock says 8:23. Step into the kitchen, feeling that something is missing.
Open the fridge, Outa milk??? How could this beee?! I went to Sam’s Club - he stocked me up extra plenty!!!
I need to make a dash to the store, but if I get on the bus, this could take an hour or more.
So I quickly dress, not at all to impress. Just throw on my clothes and head out the door.
Standing outside in a panic, I start scratching all over my body like an addict.
Cereal and milk, I gots to have it!
Leaving me no other choice, I hop on the bus. My hands are shaking, making me look like a fiend.
Then I notice Bomb-Shell Betty, the ’98 prom queen, sitting in the back not looking so pretty.
I remember when she was going steady with TEDDY GRAHAMS - dude used to give me his answers to all of the math exams.
Sitting in front of me are four ladies who go by the names of FRUITY PEBBLES, COOKIE CRISP, HONEY COMB, and SUGAR SMACKS.
Who are they fooling??? Never skipping a beat, they are always getting their KIX turning TRIX on 126th Street.
They are quite the lovely bunch. I believe their **** is going by the name of CAP’N CRUNCH.
I am feeling kinda desperate today, thinking about spending time with FRUITY PEBBLES, but she only takes cash, and all I have are CHEX.  
My impatience is starting to run thin cause all I can think about is running in the store and grabbing a gallon of milk.
Then the bus stops… Who can it be? Oh, it’s my old neighbor, Tom Foolery.
He has a mouth full of chrome and wears ten pounds of jewelry.  With tattoo-covered arms, he enters with his pal, LUCKY CHARMS.
The two sit next to the 126th crew.  They are spitting game - that is really lame.
They are bragging who is better at shooting hoops. They just sound like a bunch of FRUIT LOOPS.
So I chime in and say, “I can eat more RAISIN BRAN than any other man throughout the entire land without going to the can, and if you don’t believe me, just ask my POPS!”
They look at me with complete shock.  Not a word to be heard, they turn around.  I sit there in silence, feeling like a big nerd.
Bus stops again.  A pale man enters on in.  He is tall and thin, wears a brown suit, and has a funny grin.
He looks kinda scary but seems ever-so-merry with his hands locked with his BOO BERRY.
Finally!! Through the glass I can see the supermarket is slowly approaching, and all I can say is, Yippy Frickin Skippy! Bout time.
Just before the bus stops, I jump out the window and drop to my knees, kiss the ground, and scream, “Hallelujah!!!”    
In the front of the store stands General Mills, recruiting potential cereal box models.  He asks, “How ya doing?”  I mutter, “What’s it to ya?”
I run towards the back where the much-needed milk is shelved.  I grab me a gallon and head to the check-outs.
Aisle one has no one in line, so this is a clear sign that things are starting to turn out just fine.
Then suddenly I see a white sign with black ink stating, Chex not Accepted…..
LIFE can be a *****!
Anybody remember Teddy Graham cereal?
Hunger-driven, you
skulk in the shadows,
waiting to prey upon
blissful souls.

Methodically you creep in unannounced
and deliver a painful, striking pierce from
your already blood-stained fang,
numbing all of my essence.

Skin swells. Muscles cramp. Bones ache.
My eyes fall dreary. I start to salivate,
desperately yearning to taste life again.
My heart races in fear of human contact.

Caught in a tangled web, I restlessly lay in bed for days.
The comforter is soaked
with sweat and tears. Screaming
into the pillow, I beg for relief.
My first 16 liner poem inspired by a bite.
Next page