I once drove a brand new car ,and lived in a nice apartment.
But now I'm dirt poor, and I live down by the lake in a tent.
I get angry because of people's attitudes.
People laugh at me because I eat dog food.
I eat it every day because it's cheap.
People laugh because they're creeps.
I started eating dog food because I saw David Letterman do it.
It looked mighty tasty when I saw him chew it.
I eat it at the beach, while riding on buses and subways, and at the park.
I'm getting worried because all of that dog food has started making me bark.
I've also started licking my butt, and fetching sticks.
When women see me eat dog food, it makes them sick.
If you're wondering if I'll quit, the answer is no.
I'll never stop eating dog food, I need my Alpo.
Please don't point and laugh at me, please don't be rude.
Everybody thinks that I'm a freak because I eat dog food.
A FICTIONAL POEM.
Lisa 3d
you used to bring me a blueberry muffin in a white paper bag every day from a bakery near your work
when i would bite into it
the blueberries would burst like little stars dying
i am ordinary, barefoot and head sunken in a fluid mountain of mousy hair
there was a day when the heaven's gate closed but i can't recall
a disheveled plastic container that held all of my belongings on the side of the curb
i held my bladder until the infection stood in front of me that sunny morning and told me to spit in the neighborhood's eye
when you kissed me i couldn't see anything but a mustache that felt like a sharp toothed comb in the bathroom i would sometimes bite when my compulsions got out of hand
my hand in the pocket of a jean jacket that smelled of old newspapers
that's how it is, you spend hours watching Bonanza and i never memorized their names but i knew your favorite was the one in all black
the back of my head being crushed because the guns would shoot but there was never any blood
and when the train station took me along with the wind
i knew that i loved you but it was just the kinda love that gets insects bites so you put lemon balm and never call them only think of them softly so as not to disturb your small body anymore
this is turpentine in a blender
Lisa 4d
i've hidden a note in an old library book that i never returned
i ripped the sleeve off and wrote my name in red permanent ink
it smells of oak wood and dust
i felt a warm guilt that i haven't felt since i was 8 years old
when my shoe slipped on dog shit
and i went into class with muddled shoes that smelled of underdeveloped intestines twisting
i think you would understand the embarrassment
the itching sting that my chest surrendered to when everyone asked where it was coming from
this particular note was written in a momentary relapse of admonition
an answer to a question that wasn't answered
will you look in the rubble, where i told myself to stop talking about god all the time
the moon never replied to my letters so i drank my weight in wine
and when i woke up the sender's address was swindled between postmen whose hands were too crooked to open the mails slots
is it poetry to talk about dog shit on your shoe
Tashes 5d
You’re like fire spreading wildly in my veins

Burning me to ashes

But oh darling

Don’t you know,

Phoenix rose from ashes
A capsule sized tale about how something beautiful arises when your knees touch the ground
Denny C 5d
His hands were red like cherry juice that dripped in late December
The last thing he said to her he now could not remember
A lipstick stain remained on a fragment of a wine glass
Swept under a twill rug, reminiscent of time passed
She was a Marigold, tinged with a heavy glow
He was winter cold, for she was unable to grow
She was far too beautiful for this world or the next
He lost her a lifetime ago, although he won't confess
Sick, the voices told him to do it
Surrendering to them just to get it through quick
Now and then he sees her in the meadow by their home
He goes to her and feels her breath, but he's standing all alone
Seeking a reminder in the coolness of the air
Digging up the bones of something that was never there
His reflection, the pain, a life that had been fled
For she was always just another voice in his head

-DC-
An aura of whipsers
Luiz Aug 10
He woke up that morning dreading the day ahead.  The holidays were especially hard to deal with.  This day however, he decided to get into the spirit of things and ask for a special gift.  

Even if the fairy tales were for kids, he believed that if he gave enough thought and power to his wishes and just 'gave it' to the universe, eventually the wishes would materialize.  He was to make this right though!  Perfect!  So much so, that if his wishes were not to materialize, he would have the universe show up and give him an explanation, for he had done everything perfect!

He stayed in bed an extra half hour when he woke up, going over the day ahead like a football coach on a 4th down. Except, he was really playing for something much bigger than any game...he was fighting for his will to live.

The goal he needed to make it to was LIFE!  It is:

4th down
4th quarter
22 seconds on the clock
no timeouts
on their 20 yard line

in a field of death and depression.  One fumble, and he would die in the darkest pit of that battle ground.

He got up, showered, dressed and went to his desk with pen and paper...while all the time their faces would race in his thoughts, round and round.  That actually, always happened, but this time he didn't fight the memories... (him, round).  He wanted to fully immerse in them (her, round) with his imagination so that the universe would hear the (to and fro) silent shouts of his wishes.

He sat and stared at the paper (round and round).  He remembered that day at the park (children laughing) and like always, his face started disfiguring....fighting the flood but to no avail.  Again, he did not fight much as he needed (his hugs after work) to be one with them so the universe would fall with the strength of his thoughts (her smile).  The sorrows dripped down his right cheek and preluded an unstoppable salty ocean.

Perfect.  No fumbles.  life or death.  Touchdown or tackled.  He had suffered so much, that either his wish would come to pass or he would fast-forward to his next life.  Either outcome would be better than his current miserable existence.  

He takes the pen and paper and started scribbling away hieroglyphics that only him and the universe could decipher, but only after letting the pictures flood his mind of the long ago.   He found himself in a darkened hell of their sweet memories, a bottomless ocean of the before... ready to swallow his whole being.  It is the worst episode of reminiscence he'd had in years.

The delusions started to grab hold of his weakened mind as he frantically wrote his wish over and over on the paper.  He finished a page of unreadable lines and curves and started the next without missing a beat...for he knew who's eyes would grace his words!  This was his plea of the heart!  The only thing he'd ever asked for!  This needed to be, HAD to be perfect!  Life or death!

He kept writing frantically with his loved ones front-forward in his mind (round and round) and the tiny rivers on his face amassed to a constant dripping of liquid memories on to his desk.  He kept his head locked downward for a full hour...writing his plea, weeping and remembering.

The delusions he had suffered in the past after the divorce were gone...or so he thought.  Furthermore, the Doctor had warned him about exerting himself mentally...but it was too late for him to do anything.  At the peak of him summoning the universe, his delusions started manifesting...a whole new world that only he could see started to creak open...

At first, he heard Mason's laugh... exactly like he remembered it. The child's laugh was coming from the bathroom a few feet behind him.  He ignored it, thinking it must have been a child's laugh coming in thru the window.

He kept at it... summoning the universe, life or death.  Five minutes after Mason, he caught the shape of a little girl from the corner of his eye sprinting from his bed and out the bedroom door! He turned quickly, but only glanced at the matching brown hair of his daughter on a little girl fly out the room!  He paused the world in his eyes and asked under his breath:  “could this be it?”

He stoped all he was doing as his delusional mind was then taking full control of his reality...the reality he had been longing for.

He sat quietly and a far away chatter of children started flying in thru his hears slowly, as he dove deeper into his own abyss.  The noise started finding definition with individual voices, specifically, Mason's and Maddison's glorious talk!  

He could wait no longer and stormed out his room with a huge smile illuminating the way to his children!

As he jumped out the chair, a single sheet of paper parachuted down to the floor.  On it, the repeated scribbles on the paper read “Please!! I haven't seen my children since the divorce...for one Christmas, please let them be with me...for one Christmas!, no matter how you do it, let them be with me!”


S.O.S.
©2018 / M&M Edition
Luiz was here
Débijonne Aug 10
A single flower he gave me,
Sent my heart into a flutter.
Had my stomach drown in butterflies;
Made my knees go weaker.

A single flower he gave me
Instantaneously made me remember
The special times I shared with him
And our precious moments together.

A single flower he gave me
Was just like him as I rekindle.
The smoothness, the aesthetic,
The smell so sweet, the love’s symbol.

But that single flower he gave me
Also had thorns which pricked my finger.
I shed a tear like when he broke my heart;
A special flower no longer.
your name means stars:

YOU ARE A STAR IN THE SHAPE OF A PERSON
and every breath you take draws a little bit out of my lungs
THEN, I LEARN WHAT IT MEANS TO DROWN ON LAND.

your name means blood:

my heartbeat stutters to the cadence of your footsteps
AND STAINS MY CHEST WINE-RED.
the light of your gaze bleeds into my soul
AND SWOONS DOWN THE CURVE OF MY NECK.

your name means muse to me:

BECAUSE YOU ARE A WORLD IN MOTION
and yet you are stillness; the moments between heartbeats
AND SOMEHOW YOU ARE MORE THAN YOURSELF
but this is because you are more concept than person
AND WE REALIZE THAT EMPTINESS DOES NOT KNOW ITS OWN SHAPE
because you were too good to be true

your name means fiction:

because i could not find a word for someone that was never there.
understand this.
you may be all the stars in the universe
but the emptiness between them is greater still.
and you cannot love someone you made up
no matter how hard you try.
several lines taken from an earlier poem i did called paraluman
writerReader May 2015
Can poems be fiction,
Do you think?
Jon Thenes Aug 3
You Absolver
You're an absorbent feature
You reflector
You question
Retorting mirror
Muse
And a fiction
One for a fight
An impression from the night
I collect the picture
After all
You are not easy on the eye
You're powdered pate to heel
In vague mistrust
and effortless tissue white
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