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Donna Jun 2017
Gnats look like letter
'T' on walls , I asked what it stands for , they say coffee
I have no idea y i even posted this one but if anyone knows let me knows :) but it was fun to write as gnats do look like letter T on walls making me think of coffee.**
xmxrgxncy Nov 2016
I want to paint you a picture
of a spaghetti cloud
raining meatballs
and the marinara dripping
off starchy tendrils
like dew off a tilted blade
of summer's finest grass.

I want to paint you a picture
of a feline thunderbolt
with its' hair on end
and the screeching
echoing loudly
like the persistent mews
of an unfed kitten.

I want to paint you a picture
of a lost little girl
with her hairbow missing
and her eyes
opened quite wide
like an owl
who has gone blind.
I've felt more and more dysfunctional lately. I kind of wonder at all the bizarre thoughts running through my head but I can't exactly stop them but rather help them escape and stay away.
Cné Sep 2016
Sometimes, I think
Thinking is weird.
What do you think?
Pea Mar 2016
i wish you knew
how much i see
galaxies and other beautiful things in you
i wish you see
that these things i know are true
take a closer look within me
im sorry in adv ily
aviisevil Dec 2015
these letters were found years later when a post office was closed down.
the man who by chance saw these letters addressed to each other was shocked upon reading them..
he has been since suspended for breach of privacy... at a closed post office.




dear mister planklot, I would like to concern you with a letter I got from one of my readers,
as I have always seen you as my leader, I want to have a conversion with you and discuss about this rather bizarre case, his letter was divided into five fold of a page,
by his writing he must have been no more than in his teens I'm afraid,
he wrote about a dream he saw at night,
a pale shadow would emerge from the seam of his pocket;
a rather strange scene, he claimed to have seen this over and over every third night.
the shadow tells him a different story each time, about the future and past;
he has an answer for everything that the boy asks,
it lasts till the shadow transforms into someone human;
and each time it summons a hideous creature that has three legs and nine tails,
he always mentions one name without fail;
some nights ago he whispered my name;
he told me no more, I found that a bit strange.
it was rather interesting to read about the stories the shadow told,
but some of them were infectious and cold,
there were a few that made me wither to my bones,
in the pursuit of knowledge we forget sometimes it is better to leave a few things unknown;
even though I thought it was a faux back then,
I was afraid by the things witnessed by this young man;

I threw the letter and later I forgot about him too;
but yesterday night I had the same dream too;
the shadow talked about you, he told me you will die soon;
but not before murdering me accidentally;
now I don't know what to believe in anymore,
but since I've known you for so many years;
I know there is absolutely no possibility of that happening;
we have never met each other; we only communicate via words and no face,
you don't know my place and I have no clue about yours;
I want to discuss this some more but I have to be out of town in an hour and I'm afraid I have not much time left, and even the post office is far.
I will be eagerly waiting for your response, with some wine and cigars.

yours truly
mister clasten





dear clasten, I am in a rush as I write this letter to you;
as I consider you trustworthy, I confide this in you;
I was driving through a street and I saw a strange looking boy standing still,
I don't know what happened to me but I felt a chill;
it ran through my spine and across my soul,
by the time I could grasp, my car had gone off the road;
I am telling you honestly, I saw a shadow emerging from his pocket;
by then it was too late, I ran someone over by the post office.
it has been a few days but seems no one has a clue,
I'm even going to deleiver this letter at the same post office,
to see if I really have to pay my dues;
if I get caught than it is meant to be, but if I am not,
I will consider myself free.
I hope you can understand, it wasn't my fault,
I am leaving the town, good-bye and all.


yours truly,
mister planklot
Brent Kincaid Nov 2015
I’ve dreamed I was falling asleep
And shaking myself to keep awake.
There’s only so much weirdness
And crap a poor dreamer can take.
It was all involved with friends you see
That I don’t see now, because they
Were stranger than my dreams
Or maybe I was. Back in the day.

I would be partying with them
And walking remembered streets
But I’d look around and everybody
Found other people to go meet.
Then suddenly the Hollywood
I knew and loved for twenty years
Became Kansas City boulevards
And Hollywood totally disappears.

Or maybe I’m coming home
At the end of a tiring long day
And look around, find myself
Saying, no way. No effing way;
This is not my apartment!
It’s fine, I kind of like the place
But someone is pulling a joke
The housekeeping is a disgrace.

Then someone would come in
Who I was supposed to know
And this chick is my roommate?
Oh, no. This woman has got to go.
But before I can get my head
Wrapped around standing up
My family is there too, cooking
Handing me a steaming hot cup.

Well,, now I can’t offend them
So, I sit my *** back down.
I don’t want to seem ungrateful
Like some unfunny kind of clown.
******, I leave to go for a walk
Thinking I am in Tucson but then
This is the Country Club Plaza
And I’m back in Kansas City again.

One time I was building something,
Under an expensive sort of contract
But none of the sub-contractors
Or the assistants knew how to act.
They were putting the thing together
Like a Rube Goldberg machine.
I was going ballistic on them all;
The ugliest thing I had ever seen.

These are the dreamworlds for me
On a regular, but often bizarre basis.
Streets change while walking
And people I know change their faces.
Or I am tasked to do something
Involving technology or looming mass
I end up getting no help at all
And wind up falling right on my ***.
Kagey Sage Oct 2015
I've always had those moments
when I seem braindead
but really I'm just overthinking
a passed or impending situation

Making two-star dramas and slasher films
I'm the silent victim
that should've saw it coming
in my soothsayer premonitions

Wish I could drop a bag of bones
and let them come up with
the mood I should be in

These small woodland animal spirits
prancing around my world
tell me what's life's deal
and sometimes make me fearful
when I'm in a badly lit room alone


It's not the dark that gnashes
but that which most wants the light


As if, life is about burning your hands
on many light bulbs, 'till some source
slurps up your essence and you're stuck
finding the portal to the next level
fighting and collecting dragons on the way
fighting and collecting dragons on the way
Crazy loons
                                   blind hearts they ****
                                       fools with guns
                              shells and blown up hills

                                    kind of the world
                                      has a sore head
                            and suggests to morons
               why don't we blow up a paint factory instead?

                                       yes we could
                                        if we should
                              well do it once a year
                                  won't that be good

                          Gallons of different colours
                                flying up in the sky
                               splodging so funnily
                       A GREEN DOG JUST RAN BY!!

                      And all the different countries
                             joined hands forever
                            and learned real peace
                  blowing up paint factories together
Search the ministry of bizarre poems
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