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Enjoy the madness, its Mortemer's dance!
Swishing and turning its not wishy-washy,
Slashing and cutting the shapes! Oh lord the shapes!
Slicing and spinning then boom! Red confetti.
Look at him go in his marvelous trance!
Spinning and cutting the dance spins in circles as the audience cries 'now do the slip and slide!'
So he slides in real slow now he's in his mojo
He's feeling himself as he's breaking it down.
Its him and himself in his spotlight lit solo,
A pool of composure for his one final flourish;
A swish and a slit, moves never seen before.
The big grand finale and the crowd goes bananas!
There's roses on roses, they pile on the stage!
Mortemer's touched by such lovely affection from a crowd of individuals with no connection.
He'll lie on the stage and soak up the praise.
His roses smell sweet, and his roses are plenty.
Simon Mar 27
They once said that "a piece of cake, is a slice at the beginning your life"...
But is that even true...at the very most end of the spectrum, from which your heart beckons too the very mind that surpluses the very objects (from which is can't find itself in the mess of truthful results), that begin to truly shame the result of even trying to piece things together, time after time...?
NO!
Which are exactly why things don't need to be remembered from right off the bat.
That's because a piece of cake is the truthfully defining reach from which we can't solve the very most bottom remedy from straight out from under our very heartstrings. Heartstrings in the very form of how our very life began. When you were too busy fighting objections too win over your very mind's eye (at the very center of opportunity itself)!
Basically, the very end results, begin with a single fraction of those very "to-do" list heartstrings...that don't truly account for the most interesting of logical finds. Simply put, it literally calls forth (the very claim of one's own arrival) at the very hands of remembering what it was truly like too live again!
Except, when you tasted the very cake that belonged deep in your own heart.
And a heart that is truly beginning anew, again. But with a twist, you see....
Nothing is really the same, after from which you taste this newly found piece of cake, that slices off one end of its own self...and disregards the rest, after the final aftertaste had reclaimed it's own glory.
This is mostly because you think you feel what the mind's eye REJECTS the claim like a chronic storm of results for the such displeasurable spectrum.
Now you know when you slice a piece of cake at the very end of one's own life, and take that slice at the very beginning newly found account...for it is a truly newer start at the very beginning of something entirely new.
A such tasty treat for a definite psychological and philosophical and emotional hunting trip full of joy!
Maniacal Escape Jun 2020
I see a boy underneath the bin
He prays desperately to a deaf god
Looming over I can smell his despair
Rocking back and forth in holy existence
Your prayer won’t save you now little duckling
Say I to the rat
But on he chants, on and on to gods and clouds and demons
He names them all, one by one endlessly chanting his desperate canon
Where are your gods now?
Do they serve you a merciful end?
I ask as I slash his throat.
Katgreir Erisdil May 2020
Fifty years from now, I may not be the person whom I thought I would be
I may not have served the job I dreamed of having
I may not be living in a house I dreamed of building
I may not be married with the person I am in love with right now
I may not have made peace with the past

But fifty years from now,
I hope,
I have decluttered my mind
I may be old but I will be beautiful
I may not have reached my dreams
But I will remember the moment I wrote this -
I am young and dreaming
I may have let my younger self down
But somehow I know now what my younger self had not known
I may not have traveled the world
But my eyes have seen what my younger self had not yet seen

Fifty years from now, I may not be as alive as I thought I would be
I may be under the ground with a dirge or requiem
Maybe two or three people crying or maybe none
But as that time comes,
May I never forget
That fifty years ago,
I have fought with my whole life.
Someday I will not be the person whom I thought I would be. But I will be exactly the person whom my creator destined me to be.
At The Cafe
I heard her say to the teary-eyed lady
as they sliced their custard creams,
" Move on and go find someone else"
As if suggesting to take that knife and slice
that face out of her brain and replace it with
another. As if perhaps she should cut out
her heart and separate it from the rest of
her. I suppose the thoughtless lady was only
trying to help. I suppose that's normal procedure
in such circumstances. Like quickly go find a
lollipop for god's sake.
I felt like saying to the broken woman;
wait a bit. No need to be in such a rush.
This terrible ache, this fierce wrenching
this oozing sore is love disguised.
You'll come to it. You will. No substitute
necessary.
That someone else is waiting
in the dim horizon, fresh faced and true
with eyes that pierce through
the mish mash of dough and syrup
of wounds and ruins of love and war
and sharp metal objects.
That someone else is you, whole
and undisguised.
You can't rush that.
You'll come to it
You will.
The sorrow of loss, breakup, the slow journey through the shadow into acceptance. Finding oneself in the midst of despair without trying to find a new fix.
Tammy Cusick Aug 2019
*
Piercing eyes
pale white gowns,

furrowed brow's
big bright crowns,

horizontal smiles
across floor to ceiling paintings
limp of emotion,

distraught in sepia
color at rest,

mildew in the teeth
callous on the tongue,
nails in the feet
dragging dead weight,

wrapped in burlap
tied in loose ribbon,

clammy cold hands
only for the given,
dilated.

red in the face
angry with a fist
distraught in the heart,
spliced across the wrist.
JM Romig Aug 2019
Lee was posted up in in usual spot
back by the stacks,
with his phone on life support.
Its umbilical cord was knotted up like a nest,
and held together by electrical tape.

It sat next to his vape
box and a stack of books
about the GED, twenty-fist century
side hustles and back issues of Ebony.

People come in and out of the library
and everyone says hi to Lee,
He is the man to see,
He asks about their lives and gives sage advice –
How you been, my man?
How’s the kids doin’, girl?
How’s married life treatin’ you, my dude?

My man, you gotta do this.
Babygirl, look into that.
Don’t wear your hat like that,
Boy, ya look silly.

Lee lives in a van
that he parks nearby
so he can job-hunt on the free wifi
even when the place is closed.

If you feel sorry for me, don’t
says Lee
I’m the freest now I’ll ever be,
so, don’t you dare take pity on me
I’m doing all I can do,
being all I can be.

Everything’s  temporary.
Tomorrow I could be you,
you could be me
we’re just one bad day,
one scratch-off lottery ticket away
from swapping places, my man.

Yeah, I live in that van
parked outside the library
but if you think I’m sad,
you’re thinking wrong,

Won’t see me moping, or doping
floating along
you won’t see me frowning,
or drowning,
singing a sad song.

I’m happy with all that I got
who wouldn’t wanna be in my spot,
I’m The King
of the Library Parking Lot.
*Disclaimer: Lee is a fictional character. Any resemblance he may have to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Anastasia Jul 2019
Do it
Cut the string
And it
Ruin me
Sever your ties
**** it
Slice at my heartstrings
Destroy my dreams
Massacre the thread
So that you can't put it back together
Make me cry
Want to d i e
That's what you want, isn't it
To ruin me
Stella Jun 2019
I don’t have work
I don’t have school
I have no books to check in or out
Yet still,
you get to sit around
Look at me,
my swollen black circles
under my lifeless eyes

I’m so tired
I see the shy little nerd stacking books again

“Yeah.”(chuckle)
She’s my kryptonite now
Who knew leather books could be so comfy to lay one’s head?
It’s not cool being awake for over 24 hours driving through the day with coffee. You feel jaded but not in a good way
Cat Lynn System May 2019
Part A:
Cut it out
It won't do a thing!

Stop cutting yourself!
You're gaining nothing!

I slice and dice and move my mice
Claw myself with my built-in knives

Screaming and Crying as the blood drains, right?
Scars and wounds keep you up all night!

The alcohol string, do you feel the pain?
It burns and eats the bacteria in your veins

Sometimes the healing aches a lot
So that you learn something and begin to stop!!!

Chorus:
CUT CUT CUT CUT! Can we get enough? ENOUGH!
Trying to live like we wanna get better!
Your linen won't hide your cuts forever

KNIFE KNIFE! SLICE SLICE!
What are you doing your life? LIFE!
Heart pump's blood to keep you live'n
Why can't you accept that you are forgive'n?

Part B
"Hey! What's up? Are you doing alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine! Just had a really bad fight..."

A fight with yourself that you can never win
Using gloves and sleeves to keep your slits hidden.

Do you not see the diamond you are?
Ignore the lies that formed those scars

Your numbness won't just fade away
When your life is mixed in with the gray

Sitting alone in the darkness, blackness
Trying to hide all blood drop messes

Chorus
CUT CUT CUT CUT! Can we get enough? ENOUGH!
Trying to live like we wanna get better!
Your linen won't hide your cuts forever

KNIFE KNIFE! SLICE SLICE!
What are you doing your life? LIFE!
Heart pump's blood to keep you live'n
Why can't you accept that you are forgive'n?

Part C*
Razor Sharp... It feels just right
Holding on to that blade real tight...
Hidden in the darkness, out of sight...
It is worth the damage it causes? Worth all the lies?
Worth the secret? Worth the hide from the ones who love you with all their might?

Don't you feel their love, His love...
ENOUGH!

Chorus
CUT CUT CUT CUT! Can we get enough? ENOUGH!
Trying to live like we wanna get better!
Your linen won't hide your cuts forever

KNIFE KNIFE! SLICE SLICE!
What are you doing your life? LIFE!
Heart pump's blood to keep you live'n
Why can't you accept that you are forgive'n?
Another poem song I hope to write up someday... maybe...
It's a song about cutting and how it never seems to be enough. We can;t just do it once... it's a temptation and a struggle that makes us want to do it again and again...

and we forget about the ones who love us
We forget who we are in our Creator's eyes... and how worthy we are...
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