Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
A pixie marching band took their show on the road.
17 tiny horn players and a drummer
with a button for a snare.
Across the water they walked,
regimented in three lines,
playing "Has The Day So Quickly Ended" to the rhythm of water splashing
on finely cobbled pixie shoes.
Tireless they moved forward
across an entire ocean
seeking comfort and solitude of Icelandic shores.
Unnoticed by the many captains of the many ships they slipped by, their music nothing more than crickets chirping or the ringing in their ears.

It was a long journey and they never stopped playing once.
Seven hundred and seventy-six songs in their repertoire
they played each one at least twice as days turned to night
and the cycle would need to be repeated
Every pixie musician in the band had every one of those songs memorized
you could call the tune
at any time
day or night
he would pick up his pixie instrument and play it note perfect.
Not a single mistake.

Legendary songs of pixie lore, like "Call The Wild Dogs to Anglicize", "Too Many Curtains" and "Fill Your Cup With Salty Seltzer".
Popular pixie songs all pixies knew, like "Bertha You're a Hard Act to Follow", "Dropped My Horn in the Bay of Pigs", "Livestock", "Ain't No One Answerin' the Phone" and "Drop Yer Pillow, Samuel".
Sacred pixie songs celebrated their common faith in the one true God, like "God, There Ain't No Other God", "Our God Sails the Seven Seas" and "God Help the Fool Who Fools His God".
Pixie drinking songs, "Bottoms Up", "Can You Hear the Weeping Warm Beer?", "1-2-3 Let's All Get Drunk", "Pixie Drinking Song" and "Hustle That Swill".

A lot of songs.
A lot of moods.
A lot of reasons to go  home to Iceland,
as if they needed any besides the food.

The pixie band was pushing three-quarters of the marching journey across the ocean
when Big Jim Pixie turned around and scolded Billy Joe the trombone player.

"Bill, you clumsy *******!" barked Big Jim. "You just about hit me in the back of the head with that ******* trombone slide! Do I have to tell you what I'm going to do to you if you actually graze me with that spit-drippin' thang?"

Billy Joe, typically soft spoken, was not having any of this.

"It was a flying fish that whisked up 'gainst the side of yer noggin, not my slide. If I was of a mind to bean you with this here slide you'd be rubbing the back of your head right now and you'd be so shook up you wouldn't even know it was me that done it."

"You sure do talk tough now, don't ye?" asked Big Jim, reluctantly realizing that it could well have been a flying fish but not yet willing to let the trombone player off the hook. "Don't make me turn around cuz if I do you are going to be in the market for a new trombone."

"That's a well may be, Jim-Jim, but the hand that holds the pen that signs the check that pays for it is going to be yours. Let that stand as a natural fact."

If there's one thing in the world Big Jim didn't like being called
it was Jim-Jim.
Billy Joe was always calling him Jim-Jim because he knew it bugged him.
The pixies in the company had all used variations on his name when referring to him in the past  
Jimbo Johnson,
Johnny Jimson,
Little Jim Big Jim,
Jimmy Jolson,
George Jimson,
Son James the Ham Chef,
Carl Jim Has Been,
King James Version Abridged,
James Wainright Teller,
Jim the Traitor,
Jim the Christ Killer,
Jim the Destroyer of the World,
Jim the Enemy of the Known Universe  
each one of these appellations rankled him but none so thoroughly as the simple
Jim Jim
that Billy Joe would call him.

"I ain't payin' a ******* cent, trombone player."

"Then you ain't breakin' my trombone, Jimmy Jack Jehosaphath."

"Don't test me, you may have to arrest me."

"I'll bring you a file so you can get out of jail, Jim Jim".

"Well that's mighty white of you, pixie. Now what are you gonna do if that spit valve was leakin' and you got some of your nasty ebola saliva on the back of m'neck? You gonna come visit me in the hospital?"

"I might. But then again I might just wait and come visit your grave when they put you down."

"Joe, if we weren't still marchin' I swear to almighty God I would turn around and beat you so bad they'll be countin' a man short when we finally get home."

"Jim Jim, them's fightin' words but you ain't never fought nothing no tougher than the urge to **** in public. You ain't gonna do no permanent damage to me nor my trombone here. So why don't you put your money where your mouth is or keep that mouth shut?"

Big Jim turned around
hit Little Joe hard square between the eyes.
He heard and felt bone crack.

Joe looked stunned.
He'd never call that mean ******* Jim Jim again.
No,
never again
because he hit the water hard and sank down as the band marched right over him,
most not even noticing.

Jim looked for as long as he could then turned around and proceeded to march the rest of the way to Iceland.

"Don't call me Jim Jim," he said, speaking only to himself.

Then he heard a voice in the back of his head.
It was loud enough to be heard over the
music
and
the waves
and
the ocean breeze.

It was HIS voice,
but he had no control over it whatsoever.

"Jim Jim."

"Jim Jim."

"Jim Jim."

...and so it was Big Jim, whose trumpet playing had practically defined the style of this particular pixie band, lost his mind, eventually taking up residence in a Reykjavik sanitarium screaming every night, keeping up the attendants and making things worse.

"Little Joe Jangly Hops! Come here you ******* I got a lollipop for ya."

"Joe Joe Deathgrip Toenail! I'm gonna light your mama on fire!"

"Little Joe Clamfry, somebody took a **** in your bed!"

On and on he went until the people in the kitchen stopped giving him bananas. Then he stopped for awhile.

But only for awhile.
Jeremy Betts May 2022
(too long version)

Life indeed pushed me to the edge of the cliffs end but the jump was my decision, no one there could ever be bothered to care enough to even explore the simplest question much less begin thinkin' about askin' what I was thinkin' when I settled on the option I ultimately, on more than one occasion, failed at miserably while attemptin', like the byproduct of rabbits ******' my faults are multiplyin' as my spark goes dark at the same time my shine went dim, not worth restorin' this vessel that sits as decoration in a white trash front lawn deterioratin', startin' from the back end then devourin' the engine

One step forward, two giant leaps back pedalin', that was the general motion of regression, lookin' like I'm plagiarizin' Michael Jackson when he's on stage performin', masterin' that classic moon walkin' he's known for doin', never as smooth as him but you get the picture I'm paintin', losing track of my destination as it began droppin' out of sight behind the horizon, followin' the trail the sun was blazin'

Can't see the forest for the trees and vegetation, could have heard the pre-lumber fallin' if you would only humor me and at least pretend to listen, but that there is somethin' you have zero interest in which is interestin' cause if the past has taught me anythin' about what you find pleasure in it's that you're lovin', above everythin', the chance to keep pointin' out and highlightin' how I'm a terrible human bein', a garbage person but not a man and no CDL license, I'm not pickin' up the trash I'm metaphorically dwellin' in only then to have it pile back up again times ten, ultimately creatin' my own land fill location within, wilfully lettin' recycled misfortune to continue hittin' me on the chin, it's due to inadequate trainin', not for the lack of tryin' to defend

No direction just a lie practiced to perfection too keep 'em from noticin' my state of depression, leave 'em guessin'. But to keep the honesty rollin' in I have a confession, I'd loan you the money to pay attention but you'd never take that good for nothin' offerin' and I ain't even placin' blame, just sayin', I know my position, I'm fully aware I'm on the losin' end of this game of tug-a-war life and I are playin', though I think it's cheatin', countin' cards to ensure a win, gamblin' that I'll give in and fold before noticin' I'm the mark bein' taken, the journey of life is a rigged expedition

What am I doin' besides losin'? Why am I here became the daily question, how do I get out this mess of confusion that's drownin' me to the point of extinction? It's an impossible equation even for a mathematician with years of education, so you know for certain I'm lyin' when, for no good reason, I have a go at answerin'. The slipknot is workin' just as I was expectin', slippin', goin' taunt, slidin' into its final position

I should mention, if you're thinkin' this has taken place solely for attention you're sorely mistaken, you never come to that realization, dodgin' conversation in an attempt to avoid confrontation, leavin' me noticin' there's no one standin' by and extendin' a hand to help and lookin' back there's never been. No one attendin' my lonely execution by decapitation in an effort to stop the spreadin' of harmful misfortune I feed myself, bad for my mental health, a deadly addiction that's become somewhat of a tradition through repetition, turnin' a weapon on myself, worsenin' my condition, that's a fact based observation not an opinion

No resolution in the hard hitting revelation that there's no salvation for someone who's gone and done what I've done and gone on livin' in a web of fear that I first spun for protection but couldn't stop the infestation from gainin' the traction it was needin' for the completion of my complete elimination

Cravin' anythin' real to place my faith in, I'm bein' told the hate and pain I'm bathin' in is of my own creation, I can see the connection as I sit broken down in the intersection of real life and fiction, I've lost control again and once again there's no mulligan. Am I seein' the glass half full or half empty or maybe it's all an illusion regardless of perception? Lost my vision, can't see through the pollution and corruption runnin' rampant with no solution comin', I'm a simpleton so this ***** gettin' confusin', a complete brain malfunction

I've awoken the beast within and just as I was predictin' we instantly began battlin' to the death, fightin' for position and a quicker end to the situation I'm always findin' myself in then findin' out for myself that it's always been my own reflection startin' back in my direction, the ugly inside is finally outwardly projectin', can't even pretend to be my own friend, enough is enough, I'm saying when

Its lurkin' just under the skin, waitin' for the moment to strike and beat me down to nothin'. When will it end? Never I'm guessin'. I'm gonna have to try to put an end to it all myself again, tirin' of the repetition to the point I usually take no action, sometimes due to exhaustion but still just lettin' it all happen like that's what I was plannin' from the beginnin' but that makes about as much sense as quittin' ****** right after the needles insertion or waitin' till after overdosin'

Frustration givin' way to aggravation and aggression leavin' little satisfaction even if I could squeak out a win, but I'm no longer wastin' time waitin' for that to happen so I'll probably most likely be caught sleepin', dreamin' about what could've been had I listened to my gut feelin' and put in the same amount of stock I place in what my treasonous mind and heart are always sayin'
and not let doubt creep in and claim top billin' as it's permanent position, knocking out compassion and reason, replacin' both with the hate and weight of a nation

It's a fools mission, I WILL be beaten' into submission, the last thing I'll hear as my energy gives up on existin' is the mortician statin' then time stampin' my expiration, that and the body bag zippin', family left pickin' out a coffin from the bargain bin, not worth payin' a fortune, only payin' little respect to the fallen then quickly forgotten at the drop of a pin

You're sayin' I have a purpose but I'm witnessin' me wastin' every minute of the earths rotation and never reachin' the conclusion that I was slackin', far to laxed in the preparation for a home invasion of this mental prison I'm caged in where I'm servin' a life sentence and I'm mentally and emotionally starvin' while my vision of any kind of future begins to darken

No open invitation, but that's not stoppin' my personal demon from just walkin' right in and startin' the killin' spree up once again, focusin' first on positive motivation just for existin', of course that's just my imagination, but could you imagine? A horrible vision to the average pedestrian, I know, but I still crack a grin at the thought of it happenin', the devil on my shoulder is at it again

My light fractured through a prism and some went missin' and I never got around to lookin' so no chance of gettin' it back into my possession, there's no raignin' it in, goin' from a fools errand to a search and rescue mission seemingly overnight but for what reason, just to teach me a lesson? I don't test well, I won't make it to graduation

Choices made out of desperation got me lookin' and feelin' like a felon, to survive I had to become the villain of the biography I'm narratin', this isn't livin', at best it's just barely holdin' on for dear life and weakenin', a measly attempt at survivin', forced into an intimate relation with the unforgivable, each of the sinful deadly seven

The line not to cross was paper thin, walked it like a drunk person in front of a couple corrupt police men, heathens but feelin' better than, lost control long ago, before I fell off the wagon, I ain't talkin' about drinkin', it started way back when with prescription medication, ones that were suppose to be helpin' but then used for wreckreation and that's when it began draggin' me down to an underground parkin' garage elevation

I didn't have a break down, like I said, it was a break in home invasion with the assumption there was somethin' worth takin' to begin with but everythin' inside is broken and you can see the corrosion of the foundation built on sand, makin' this temple worth nothin', even self worth is fadin'

Graspin' at the air and yet again findin' nothin', grapplin' with the notion I'm nothin', prayin' my emergency flotation device will suffice cause the water is ragin', feelin' the undertow currant strengthen in it's concentration, I think it's attackin' and there's no escapin' so I began blinkin' SOS in old fashion morse code hopin' you don't need help with the translation, if that's the case then I'm done for, why bother debatin', I'll take myself out of the equation, preparin' my soul for the comin' evacuation

You begin lyin' just to raise my spirits but I ain't buyin' into what you're sellin', counterfeit concern bein' spoken with no emotion or conviction, after the extensive evaluation I see it's no garden of Eden I'm livin' in, again, someone's been lyin', I'd be wakin' right into the den of a rabid lion shrouded in original sin, I ate the fruit knowin' full well it was forbidden, straight up poison but zero ***** were given, so this was bound to happen, the writin' was on the wall, who am I kiddin'?

You have my permission to begin the process so let's just go ahead then and get this over with so I can silence the voices within, I've eliminated every complication, layin' on the tracks at the crazy train boarding station, awaitin' the unavoidable, provin' I was correct in the assumption that this is the right time to initiate my endin', a personal Armageddon...oh, well hello, you must be that Satan guy I've been hearin' so much about from everyone preachin' directly in my ear then going out the other, it's still hard not to listen, I'm just tyin' up a loose end or two then I'm yours for the takin'

...alright, thanks for waitin', now then, let the journey to my endin' begin shall we? I'm takin' the lead on this one cause I know where we're goin' and I'm no good at followin' direction...obviously, it goes without sayin'

©2022
Sean Banks Feb 2014
Type it out you *******, this could be
The last one
For a little while.

I made a promise with myself
Or whoever that shady character is,
Outside
On the deck with me
The one who
Makes fun of me
Delete words as I puke this
Poem?
Out.  

Its best that me and this keyboard become friends
My anger towards, understand and accepting
What is proper type,
Or am I the proper type
Of guy who wants Vegas
And EDM
And MDMA
in My life

So writing
Or typing
Whatever
Which one
Of me

Wants to deem it
for only when I dream
It, cheap rhyme,
I want my style to be my own
And I want my intoxicated
Meaningful
Ramblings to be a
Part of it
A part of the
Bigger picture.

I will only type **** like this when i am not sober.

Sober sure is funny
And not just a funny word
Smiley face emoticon

Emoticon is not
a typo
....

Dear lord, oh god oh mighty,
Blasphemy that I would
Even start
Talkin' about
galaxies and universes
outside of this one

Puke some more
As I delete and pull
Words
From
One
Line
To the
Next
Without
Giving a
****
That my
Microsoft word
Capitalizes
Every text

My little brother text (texted?)
Me tonight and said
"Get more ink
For the typewriter"
.

Aside for my desire to ramble on about
Getting more ink
The 16 year ol’ champ
Is right

My biggest dreams at this moment
Are childlike

If that’s a good thing…
Then my 6 year game plan
From this day is in jeopardy.

Autocorrect me more
Higher intelligence
And answer me question’s
The one’s that Christan’s
Don’t need answerin’

Have you ever been introduced to a
16 year old ****?
A 16 year ol’ ****?!

Honestly, I had my eyes locked
On – one
Tonight
And I don’t know so much if
I was looking
But maybe I was recognizing
Recognizing a certain
Level of respect that I had
For her
That she didn’t have for herself

She ****** off my best friends brother to get her backpack back tonight
In front of car headlights
And I have always wanted to type
Backpack back
My entire life.
Put your backpack on buddy,
And walk away from this
Poem?
Susan Hunt Apr 2012
People are falling like rain
all around me
i don't know why
I'm still alive.

I watch the poor souls
pour down in big droplets
their blood is like water
so thinned by the pain
of the needle and what it takes
from their bodies, from every living cell.
It is Hell, this deadly rain.

We wish it wasn't true
but that doesn't stop
the real nightmares
where i chase the next high
in some strange parking lot
of some strange apartment complex
I don't know him, I know her but now
she is gone

She is mad at me,
I hit her in the mouth
but she asked for it,
over and over and over
until I couldn't take it no more
and Lonnie is nodding out
in the backseat as we wait
at the shell station
for the real deal

There she is, she drives up and
drops off, I tell her to hurry on
and leave so she don't get hung up
with the police, cuz
they are on their way
if Erin don't shut the fck up and drive.

Get out of my car, *****!
*******; I got your fiddy.
Hit the gas and, drive me home.
And Lonnie hung on in the backseat
But now, Lonnie is gone.

And here comes Sig and lil Bit
wettin their pants waitin for it
But E!
What about those roses from Don?

They don't matter much do they?
Unless they got 100 dollar bills
attached to every bud, you will
**** him like a sweetheart wont you?
How could you swallow that nasty sh
t?

Short's phone is dead
Slim aint answerin
Ten don't pick up neither.

Where are we, babies??
What the f**k do we do now?
Maybe I'm alive
Maybe I'm a lie
Maybe I'ma die
Maybe I'ma dive
Off the deep end
Well that depends
How deep your sins
Sew
Hold em close
Theyll never know
If you never tell them so
They'll never grow
If you never let them go

Like dandelions shuffle through gusts
A man behind a lie ruffles up husks
Like a bull with no tusks
Who could give a ****

Honestly I.
Work, sweat, bleed and cry.
Lost track of why
Probably cause it is I is who I lie beside
Haa this guy ^
Is who I try to hide
But it's dark inside
Wish I could dance like the raindrops
On your window that wiggle light
When you giggle I just might
Fall back in __
Better to die within
Than to have my heart broken again

So hey, I smile and I joke
Drift home to find
There's no love in this dope
A few know this false hope
Is sometimes the only cope
In mechanisms ambition burns
Turning talent into ashes
Can't tell you what I'm askin
Just please don't stop answerin

I'm just a lonely cancer and
This is how I feel.
Too much.
-Luca Ivaldi
dan hinton Nov 2011
She came up to me,
Flailing her arms on the stairwell:
“It’s the song isn’t it?
What you were trying to tell me:
‘I hope your happy now, I
Could never make you so.’ It’s
The line out of a song isn’t it?”
I stand there mute, one
Foot up the stairwell.
No-one can argue with an Irish
Women when she’s got something
In her wee bonnet.
“It’s a line out of You Made Me Thief
Of Your Heart isn’t it? I heard it on the
Radio today, a song by Sinead O’Connor,”
I was going to interject but something held my tongue
“It’s from a film about a Northern Irish man who feels
The world has done him a great injustice isn’t it?
Don’t bother answerin’ you’ve seen it, 5 TIMES!”
“What is this a dig at me? Cos I’m Northern Irish?”
“No it’s not...” I whisper hoarsely
“So what does it mean? Have I done somethin’ to upset you?”
“Not that you’d know of...”
With that I turn on my heels and walk away
It’s always a nice send off, when they never really get it.
A flustered northern Irish girl left exasperated
Staring at a piece of paper that reads
YOU MADE ME THIEF OF YOUR HEART
With hearts to dot the I.
Sometimes they just don’t get it.
Kelly Michelle Jan 2013
So my name was "Waztaeat",
And now its "whereyoubeen"!?

But the only crazy part???
I kept answerin!

I'd move idly through each my days.
Respond atomatically, seeming unphased.

But under this calm outward facade.
Braced for indignities, my soul quietly raged.

"Don't lie! Don't lie!
You hate this!", she'd shout.

"Stop allowing this nonsense.
Or you'll never come out."

"Of this crazy, wackadoo loop...
I'm your soul! The only you get!"

"Take your stand NOW kiddo!
Or you soon may forget.."

"Your whole point and purpose..
For this life; move and breath free."

"Through boundless open spaces..
Gleening truth, seeing you see me.."
Woke up early,
Put on the work outfit
brushed my whites pearly,
Left my backpack at the stop,
Booked it back,
Found my pack,
Reached in my pocket to grab my pen,
Found it had exploded,
What then!?
Boss doesn't respond,
And I just need to be at a pond,
Not thinking about where I am going,
Not thinking about what I will sow,
A easy day would be nice,
To much to think, but does entice,
Just need to be at that lake,
Need to be at that parking garage,
But I am in traffic watching the clock,
What else can this day bring?
A ring on my phone and I'm not answerin,
Boss leaves a voicemail blarin,
Ignored it till I got there,
Walked in with a blank stare,
Wonderin' when life will be fair,
Changin' somethin,
Thinking aboot nothin',
Getting that carpal tunnel,
Then go to sleep,
Trying to shut my mind off to answers I know I can't seek,
Guess it's just another day in the week,
So I try to focus on the music and the beat,
****,
I don't know what else to say,
Cept that it's only ******* Monday.
Written at three different times during three weeks, so i apologize if it's a little disjointed
Arcassin B Oct 2014
By Arcassin Burnham





Has it occurred to you,

That I can move the stars

Cause everything that we do,

The whole time realizing who you are,

Has it occured to you,

That love can't die,

And when you say that things are true,

Its you that keeps me alive,

I swear I want a moment,
If you died one day you'll notice,
I'll be grieving,
I'll be grieving,
Just tell me you were the reason,
To get me to still believe in,
Then I wouldn't be crying,
When I call and your not answerin',

Use to be the one,
She could call anytime,
And when she shot my heart with a gun,
Somehow I was revived,
I....I .. Love you too,
Studering over my words,
She met me at the equinox,
Flew her hands,
A bird,
Tell mocking jays to stop mocking me,
Cause I don't deserve,
And when you answer , you know its me,
Just all for what its worth,

I'd rather have a child with you,
Then to see have a miscarriage,
Seed killer came to town,
Drove him away with a prayer session,
I don't need no pause button,
Or rewind button either,
All I wanted was for us to have a family,
And get away from bad weather,
Oh darling,
You should have noticed,
That I'm starving,
For your love,
I need a garden,
To make love and not war in,
Nothing is occurring,

Has it occurred to you,

That I can move the stars

Cause everything that we do,

The whole time realizing who you are,

Has it occured to you,

That love can't die,

And when you say that things are true,

Its you that keeps me alive,

Keeps me alive,

Keeps me alive,

Keeps me alive,

Keeps me alive,

Has it occurred that I planned this future,
Soft bliss along with moisture,
3d illusions,
Get closer,
When its you and me,
Forget exposure.
Midnight
Bard Oct 2020
Alarms off, barn chicken soundin warns sun risin
Warm in the kitchen, finger lickin greazy livin
Mournin in mornin, four am mind *******
Just in reporter on a camcorder record ya
Was untoward asking opinion on ya lord
Funny looking color like a funyun my answerin
whiny vision velour clothing,  demon spawn
When gone might pawn golf sets off lawns
In the end money tight even lint gone
Opinion bent left plant facin a light dawn
No prawns starving its lent living in a tent
Woes found working paying rent with money lent
Toes cold staying in boots, boldly saying let go
Cow bell ringing meat packaging on the blow
Flow swells bringing dead whales in undertow
Wont tell no snitches no tales how trust grow
Bows n ties oft means lives built on lies, so
Below tries most the honest living and dies
Boo hoo momma cries over a racist, my my
Here lies a body of a sexist marxist, no longer exist
Goodbyes in winds are ******, believed in lists
Why try when points missed, wished but unblessed
Covid coughs bless you, hands rinsed lead laced water
Void laughs in stints empty cans scraped and placed wherever
Devoid of soap stinky citys unclean even when precipitated
Dubois protests violently retchs wholehearted tenths participated
Soy and leeks replacing meat costs a whole check to be sated
Boys an chicks dancing feet lost to most fact is their elated
Whiskey sticky drink at meet an greets an bar posts

— The End —