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Skeptic Tank Apr 2012
We are angels, made of light,
Becoming more each other when we touch.
But we matter more than mass.
Are angels waves or particles?
Waves crash,
But what do Particles do?
Collide.
Skeptic Tank Mar 2012
Our liquid souls collide in liquid lips.
No words are needed for tongues to entertain
Each other, slick as flickering fingertips,
Blistering with the passion of the insane.

We share our plasma while there's something to burn.
Brand your name within my irises.
Eyes memorize as much as they can learn,
Like a computer scanning for viruses.

I rise like heat when clothing melts away
And now our tongues can fulfill their destinies.
No more thinking; it is time to play.
In slightly less than seventy ways we please.

The ****** is slithering and slakes while nearing
Exploding in ecstasy-- sensational searing
Skeptic Tank Feb 2012
I swear to god I'm a genius,
whatever god is.
Skeptic Tank Feb 2012
A cave crawls into me, turns inside out,
Captures my heart and saves my skin for last.
Slimy shadows spread like faith to doubt.
Is this the Jungian Shadow here to lambaste

While all the photons of the sun depart
As quickly as they come--an original sin--
And stop my thinking like Rene Descartes,
Affronting twistless logic like particle spin?

Now perceiving nothing it must exist,
Like Freud with OCD made Oedipus blind--
Becoming nothing nothing can resist.
Finally into earth my mind confined:

Create in me a ***** heart, o earth.
Perhaps a worm will have a ****** birth.
A lot of allusions here. Try to catch them all. I kept thinking Petrarchan would be better for the serious subject, but I'm so used to Shakespearean. I guess we'll see how well this goes over and work from there. Thanks for reading!
I changed the title from Death-- Blasphemies against logic. I'm a fan of one word titles, and I think this works better. When I say the word "******" at the end I draw out the V as long as I can. Just another note. I actually love reading this aloud.
Skeptic Tank Jan 2012
Rage, RAGE against the dying of the night.
Or Tiger, Tiger burning bright.
Am I even getting these poems right?
Or am I just afraid of flight?
I was being myself, outright
and nobody cared I lost my sight.
Am I myself when I ignite
the fiery hell of being right?
Or being myself can I be spite?
It's not my fault that I am white!
I've read it a few times, and I hope you like it as much as I do.
Skeptic Tank Jan 2012
I'm a master of Baguazhang.
I will break your face like diamonds cutting glass:
precise.
I'll fall upon you like glorious Achilles
wasting no time and hitting all of your weaknesses,
knocking you off balance to your doom.
Your nose will snap,
your arm will shatter,
your will as broken as your bones,
you will submit to me!
I dare anyone to attack me,
even if he's ten feet taller;
he doesn't stand a chance.
I will crush his skull half a second before he realizes I'm upon him.
I'm trained to ****,
and I will.
I dare you bring a gun.
I dare you think about it.
I am a monster.
Only a true hero can
defeat me.
That's about as raw as I get, friends.
Skeptic Tank Jan 2012
Is it wrong to be a skeptic with a vengeance?
My super power's logic with a twist
Like a cold dagger drawing warmth from your heart.
No poison until you finish your vegetables.
I hope your afterlife is as pleasant as you say,
But how could it be with you there?
My faith is chemical induced, like yours,
Only I have better drugs.
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