Delta Swingline Mar 21

Over the logs and dirt of a camp ground, you still shine. A blazing, bright fire.

Fire is also an element of destruction, of rage, but also of love. The burning red love you have for someone.

But my favourite type of fire is blue fire. Looking like the polar opposite of burning red hot, blue fire is hotter than red.

And to think that a full rainbow can come out of the flames of chaos.

How beautiful is the colour of destruction...

Poetry prompt: Use the words "Red" and "Dirt" in you next poem. So here's what I got.
Mr Zeal Mar 2016

Smiles are glass
And the heart is sand
They push me until I  break..
Time has Stopped once again

Breath out breath in

In the Eye of the hurricane
I'm calm in it's thunder
I have gave myself a float
So there my body lays in the river
Purifying my deepest thoughts
Cleaning my being
Washing away the times I tried to stay
What I'm trying to say..
I'm Leaving

Breath in breath out

Austin B Mar 2015

Oh how my contorted emotions remain captive in this futile, abysmal misery.
I wish I could paint my heart onto this canvas of poetic
longevity.
I want to create words that dance and glow inside your mind at
night.
Thoughts levitating out of my
body.
Engulfed in this chaos.

aar505n Dec 2014

Stalked the streets of the fair city.
Walked among strangers, talking of change.
Gritty pavement beneath my feet.

Watched around me
at my supposed kith and kin
Saw them with sin
and observed them
as they curved around the streets.

At a shop window,
A little boy stares at the chocolate
In a state of elated joy
But in a limbo, unsure how to profit.

A woman strolls pass a fruit stall.
She sees oranges and clenches her fists
Drenched in the awful memory
Of a fruity misery

An activist tries to preaches
But no one is listening to her speech
An analyst who worries about everything
Scared of being nothing

Sitting at the steps of the church
A boy hides from the dull march of people
Feels a surge inside but words caught at Adam’s apple
So he lets the ink bleed onto a page instead

Outside a run down theatre the actor stood.
His detractors made their presence felt
making him uncertain in his ways,
pushing his very essence into the dark of ether.

Coffee shop was full
but the man stood out
Coffee dripping from his mouth
The blinding glint form his watch,
a lofty story to tell no doubt.

Two souls turned a corner and became one
neither were mourners of their old lives
Two heads on one dead body
Intricacy of the mind and soul
a flase sense of intimacy

And the ghosts joined us on streets
They did not boast of their deaths
At most, they were simple engrossed
with everything from pillar to post

Dragon was there too, wanting a battle
talons rip through rag and bones.
His fire arched upwards
and then down and scorched stones

Chaos raised its heineous face
and embraced the madness
strong winds ravaged the city
blasted every building down

Among the damge I saw them.
Them and more.
A robin flying by,
Mel with her dark eyes,
the river dried up and
four moons impossibly raised.

And everything rained down and destroyed me.


I awoke
but choose to keep my eyes closed.
Wanting to drift in the darkness,
a temporary bliss.
But then the memory surfaced
and I opened my eyes.

I stood on a bridge,
the city to either side of me
and the river running underneath.
No fires, no ghosts.

All seemed restored, I sighed a sigh of releif.
A smidge of hope flowed into me.
From where I stood,
I began to understand it all.

Out, out in the distance
I scarcely saw a man standing on the river
like it was land and not water
My eyes squinted to make him out
but all I could see was an outstreched hand.

He had been observing me
and now he was calling me.
and I would leave this pretty, gritty city
and all its comittees for him.

I would.

But I still had unresolved business.
Story to be told and demons to be slayed
Then I would be a free man.
But untill then I won't be a runaway.
Cause I'll stay as long as it takes.

And with that I adjourned
this session and did returned.
Taking my chances with the city.

a rather loneger poem than i normaly do, but i have this one one my mind for some time now.
Title is a reference to the quote
“What strange phenomena we find in a great city, all we need do is stroll about with our eyes open. Life swarms with innocent monsters.”
― Charles Baudelaire
Hope you enjoy and feel free to comment!

It was just another ordinary day at the Pub.
I  as always at the helm tending bar hitting on hamsters and making crude jokes that usually walked the line and got me banned from a site that I was a living legend on.
Remember kids there is no Hello without Gonzo.

Hey Gonz you really need to do something bout the restroom some nameless bland writer that I probably liked cause I thought she looked hot said to me as she walked towards the bar.
What is somebody jerking off in there again dammit !
I swear creative bastards sure are a frustrated horny bunch.

Just then a old man walked from the restroom .
Granddad  what did I tell you bout using the restroom?
Huh the old man replied with that look of who the hell am I am what the fuck is this prick behind the bar saying .
Yeah I get that look a lot .

Granddad !
Huh?
What's that ?
He replied again as he staggered to the bar smelling of whiskey and piss yeah almost like Lindsey Lohans new perfume ode to a whore well minus the cocaine and bitter smell of a burned out former child actress.

What's that your saying?
The restrooms father time what did I tell you ,there strictly for paying costumers go use the alley where  I keep your house slash cardboard box .

Oh yeah and by the way you still owe me rent duh just cause your old and related to me doesn't mean you can just sponge off me who do you think you are some washed up drunken writer who haunts a nearly dead website like some strange perverted ghost ?

Hey did you hit the blood bank you old fart?
But son they told me I can't go twice in a week or I could die!
Look old man if you cant do that then you better hit the street start jerking off truckers I swear it was good enough for grandma you lazy fuck .

I swear you give a semi senile old fart a spacious alley and wonderful box to live in as you take his social security and this is thanks you get.
Oh well least when he passed I can still collect his checks I'll just keep him in the walk in box nobody will know the difference .

Hey asshole don't talk to that  nice old man like that.
A voice Interrupted  me as I was about to remind father time he needed to sign his check duh how else do you think I fund the bar?

You really are a prick Gonz you should be ashamed off talking and treating that nice old man so terrible.
I couldn't believe the gull of this women and although I was slightly distracted by her boobies I had to keep  focused cause this story had to end some fucking time .

Miss first off may I say welcome to the Pub and you have a great rack.
Screw you perve ! , She said in her angry yet I could tell she secretly wanted me cause I'm a totally delusional egotistical arsehole writer who is really long winded and enjoys cheap laughs and even cheaper hookers but only in moderation like Jesus kind of sense .

What to much?
Well you haven't read shit yet kids .

Miss I realize you may view me as a totally kickass writer and dude that you secretly want to have a goodtime in the backroom with .
Drop dead dick ! the woman replied .
Yeah I could tell I was wearing her down.

What gives you the right to treat this old man so cruel?
Duh cause he's my family silly woman and it's not like I'm cruel to him
in fact I treat him great don't I grandpa?

I haven't eaten in four days .
The old man replied .

You poor old sweetheart the woman said as she put her arms around the old man as he began to cry what a total pussy .
It's okay I'll get you some help .
Oh thank you so much your such a nice lady .

What the hell !
I herd the woman say in a semi state of shock as she realized in her effort to comfort grandpa he had grabbed a handful of some tight arse .

Get your hands off me .
The woman shouted but grandpa was stuck to that women like a tight pair of jeans .
Come on sweetheart give pop pop  some love.

The old demented bastard said.
Screw this the woman said as she drove her knee about five miles into the old fart's junk.

The old man fell to the floor as all five of the regulars laughed and the dudes had to cringe .

You people are all insane screw this place she said as she walked out the door .

The old man climbed the barstool in the woes of agony a frustrated climber trying to hit the peak of that really tall mountain that I cant recall it's fucking name oh yeah Adele .

Give me a fucking  whiskey and a ice pack you little bastard.
I swear pops that act never gets old you alright?
I said as I poured the old prick a strong one and handed him a steak.

What the hells the steak for ?
Duh the swelling dumbass besides we got to thaw it out anyways
somebody ordered one from down the street and would it kill you to shave I'm just saying the owner of the site really already dislikes me enough already.

Yeah you kids are fucked up with your cellphones and computers and your shaved pubes give me the old days where men were men and weren't afraid to be men and smell like men not French whores
speaking of whores dam I miss your grandma .

Yes the Gonzo clan it's so great to come from such a long line of misspelling drunken whore loving perverts .

You know pops maybe we need to pick a new scam to run on the yuppies I don't think you can take to many shots like that anymore.

Hey are you saying I'm old ?
Well when the first boat trip you ever took was on the  Mayflower I'd say so gramps .

Well did that order for the steak include any seafood?
No why?
I replied as I poured me and the old man another.

Well cause it looks like there getting some crabs with there steak.

                                          Fin

Stay crazy hamsters

Gonzo

— The End —