Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
this is how i die an array of colours flashed
hippy's tie die shirt glamourized before me
a 60s hendrix tripping vibe
too much deception, not enough communication
silence was the biggest killer...

after all most deaths are silent
and the dead don't speak

but who says they're not listening

a record collection of conversations stored in heathe ledger's memory files , the frontal lobe archives

just like the front side of the incoming car
just like the front side of the quickly approaching cliff ledge
just like the frontal assault i planted on myself,
but my pain is temporary...it is everyone else i know who must bear it  for a lifetime if they discontinue this domino effect

(i'm not talking about domino's pizza)...pizza hut OBVIOUSLY

I ordered the extra large cheese with a side of jalapeno's because this one if going to burn with a cheesy ending

how could you miss it.... i wrote it in my death note.
sardines on your pizza....that's the real death note hahahaha jkjkjkj lelel **** mmmmm vjj
The girl in my dreams
is not the Girl Of My Dreams.
The girl in my dreams
is a dream, not a girl.
Ephemeral as an 80s B-list starlet,
gauche garish gorgeous Kim Chemtrail.
Yet also a goddess template,
Aphrodite Melainis
scantilyclad in sambhogakaya.

IRL I flop on the family sofa,
a throne of domus et placens uxor,
nottomention my heart's megastar my daughter.
Yet inmyheadinbed, composite nondescript
geheimniskramerin girl
pulls up alluringly in a stolenconvertible
stolen from the 'no time to explain' meme,
jauntily exhorts, 'Jump in! I'll tell you
we're going nowhere on the way!'

She sparks me up an ex-addict's nonaddictive
dream ciggie (still a nightly motif,
tho' 5 years clear of Lucifer's leaf).
Her composite nondescript organic
signalbox of a shifting photofit dreamface
I can't quite place.  
But she has a name, this fume fatale:
Nonia Art Thrush. & a battlecry:
'Namas'cray till athanasy!'

Is Nonia Art Thrush
the girlnextdoor
from the cosmicinflationary brane nextdoor?
Are dreams a multiversal telepathic datingapp
for la creamy reruns of lacrimae rerum
on the Earth at Lagrangepoint 3,
where Nonia's my girl
when the Sham Pistols ruled the world?
She's not a girl from another poem,

tho' she could be the femmeinspiratrice
of all my fragma & very,very late uptodate
mature juvenalia, the nominelle negatotty
Dulcinea del Tanothetawave
who favours my quest
for Artistic Failure,
poesy w/ no ring to it. Honestlynot
a tosstalgic wifeinwatercolours
under oneiric slylid covers

(tho' she may boast grainy shifty
magnificent ghostbristols
of undulating proportions & angles):
the girl in my dreams
is not The Girl Of My Dreams.
She could be some Venus usherette,
bangtidy holy midinette, some former fondler
over yonder, the one who gotaway
my grey beautycomputer can't remember.

Composint **** squintingly minted
for REM cameo (tonic/phasic mo', not Mike Stipe & Co)
in some avenue scene fugue
of dreary bleary dream.
In the hinterplaying hinterior, where
oracles forage in the dark in the past,
& I snore a traumarbeit breathoflife
into phantoms nostalgia warehoused
by my ostrichopus unconscious.

Despite all my age,
I'm still just a nostalgerbil in a cage
of longing for the longings of longago.
I twinge w/ wist tinged by the mist
of Nonia Art Thrush as she diZZZolves
into the ideal foam of Dream's
foundations. L/ Nora Fries,
a bride on ice, for still was the life
that dies in the mind.

Paramnesic Nod's
just the worldride rerouted for sleepers,
leased creatures blithe. I rollover
to my wife,  noctivagant gallant
who's been by herside allnight.
'Namas'cray till athanasy,'
I mutter. 'What's that, hubbers?'
'Erm, it's Bedfordshire's county motto,
my hardlight angel Aurora, it means:

'The girl in my dreams
is not The Girl Of My Dreams.'
What's the purpose of trying.
Is it just to give up again.
It's seems I feel most loved when I need reminding of why I'm precious.
Someone always jumps in, and to attempt to save me.
Well I wasn't looking for you wonder woman.
But your smile is so elegant.
And you feel good for my soul.
I know you're impervious to harm but my darkness is deadly.
I float a lone, happily in the Dead sea.
Remember when we kissed, how it was salty?
I'm sorry.
There's no room for you here. I don't have to explain.
I never asked to be saved anyway.
I try to fight it.
Don't know what to do in this life
I guess I'll grab a knife, slice it up
And find something in the next life
Sounds like a plan Batman
Maybe when I wake up in the next life
I'll be in the body of superman
Oh goody,  you sure are the man Batman!

I'll fly in the skies like a bird
Destroy those who are cruel
Be remembered forever and ever
Wouldn't that be beautiful

Hey captain boss man, how long is my lifespan?
I don't want to wait
Don't wanna watch my life dissipate
Can you **** me now Mr. captain bossman
Oh geez Batman captain man, thanks!
After you **** me
please give my best friend my underpants
Him having them is his destiny
Thanks, now I'll die happily.
Fey Feb 23
you should see me now,
dancing alone in my room,
moves as sharp as a violin bow,
a young lunatic in its full bloom.

with my fleeting interests
comics on my lap and jazz
gently displaying my awkwardness.

daredevil, deadpool and spidermann,
my only friends, well and also shazam.
okay, jokes aside, it fitted the rhyme,
dc is actually not really my choice of style.

except batman.
he is as cool as ... maybe japan?
definitely not as cool as japan.
[really not.]

© fey (25/09/19)
Birds of Paradise Lost!
Cloacal kiss turns Glasgow.
Even when your heart is ghost toast,
collect £200 & pass go.

Buckle up tight!
Ostrich midnight
on an inept flight
to IMPACT!

Bubbawrap skintight,
ostrich midnight!
A blindman's kite
is my fuct flag.

Bats of Paradise Regained!
She's a joker & she's twofaced.
Passions that peng **** inflamed
occasioned smoker's toothpaste.

She's a kawaii harpy,
she's Azrael of Sunshine!
She's my Hawaii harpy,
she's Azrael of Sunshine!
TS Ray Nov 2019
Flying without abandon,
spinning a spider web, or
saving the day by coming out at nights,
it”s not my powers to be.

I keep no magic secrets,
I drink no miracle potions,
I have no alter egos,
I own no extra fittings.
I just believe.
Just like you believe.

Being your own super hero,
telling your own heroic tales,
crafting your own wins from odds,
no trip to Gotham City is needed for that.

Knowing your intuition,
trusting your gut,
feeling a pinch,
holding to clinch,
the pearl of an oyster
from the deep blue life,
it’s what my force will be.

So, how deep is your oyster at? :)
Nigdaw Jul 2019
It's all for a laugh
Why the long face horse's ****,
Put a lightbulb where the sun don't shine
And lighten the **** up
This is a roller coaster, baby
I don't know where it stops
But it's all for the crack
You can stumble as much as you want
Fall if you need to
My hysteria will see the funny
Sunny side of the street
Make a dance for happy feet
So don't be sad
Come laugh it up with the lads
You're one of the boys
Toys that is
We can play all night
But I,
Not so nicely with the other kids.
My tribute to The Joker of Batman fame.
Next page