The smile of iceboxes annihilates me.
Such blue currents in the veins of my loved one!
I hear her great heart purr.

From her lips ampersands and percent signs
Exit like kisses.
It is Monday in her mind: morals

Launder and present themselves.
What am I to make of these contradictions?
I wear white cuffs, I bow.

Is this love then, this red material
Issuing from the steele needle that flies so blindingly?
It will make little dresses and coats,

It will cover a dynasty.
How her body opens and shuts --
A Swiss watch, jeweled in the hinges!

O heart, such disorganization!
The stars are flashing like terrible numerals.
ABC, her eyelids say.

A time of disorganization, neglect and
isolation; run ragged by desperation
and dark self destructive desires.
Who is in charge of these
mechanisms inside?  A raging glutton
of obsession; no defenses. Tearing it
all down until utter destruction
devastation
a destination without rescue.

They don’t know that they will all
die
in the end.

I have to write my pieces in
pen,
because when the ink runs
freely
my ideas run freer.

The ideas pop up
randomly.
I’m never able to catch them in time
Especially when I’m in my
“emo” mood.


“You don’t know what it’s like...
welcome to my life.”

Actually, Simple Plan,
I do.
Welcome to MY life.
Its not that
no one know or understands.
They just can’t tell
depression from
wanting attention.
And they’re all idiots for it.

“For a second I wished the tide
would swallow every inch of this city,
as you gasp for air tonight...”

I really do hate this place.
But do i really want everyone to
die?
I want to die.
That doesn’t mean everyone has to
go with me.
Even though someday,
I WILL go out with a
bang.
But not yet.
Oh, how I wish the
Anthem Of Our Dying Day rang
true.

“I know the world’s a broken bone
but melt your headaches, call it home.
Hey moon, please forget to fall down;
hey moon, don’t you go down.
You are at the top of my lungs,
drawn to the ones who never yawn.”

Yes, moon,
please stay up.
I want to dream
forever,
never have to face
reality.
I send my love back to you,
Northern Downpour,
even if I’m missing the point
entirely.
Of course I want to melt my
headaches,
but how am I supposed to call this hell a home?
Home is where the heart is.
My heart broke,
so I threw it away.

“All I ever wanted
was love.”

Me too, Christopher Drew
Me too.

summer poetry kills us now.
Lemon.
like, lemon on your tongue,
but you love it
like, and you wish i wasn't so ******,
and i wish i wasn't so ******,
it's ironic in the way we keep living
i stopped calling
i stopped praying
cigarettes on my skin, that magic 8 ball, what'd it tell you?
stop asking me why i leave so often.
but hey, the last time your horoscope got it right- it hit you
along with every shot you took that night
singe, we singe our skin, chemistry converts calories and
today my bus almost crashed. almost
it goes something like, the unprecedented laughs we hadn't heard until its over
its over

It is so incredibly difficult to come to the conclusion that it has only been four months since I have met you. After several days of trying to find words and knit them together into a poem was a struggle for me, so here I am, writing you a letter. I would also like to apologize in advance for the sloppiness and disorganization you will find in these next few words. I know I have said this several times, to you and to myself, but I will continue to say this until the day I fall. But you, you mean so much to me. And this love doesn't hurt. It doesn't hurt to be with you. It doesn't hurt to think about you, because I know that you are mine. And I am so blessed to be able to see your smile everyday and see your smile at night when we drink strawberry shakes and as I steal your fries. I don't care what time is it. I don't care if I should go to bed, because you will be on my mind either way, awake or asleep. And I don't care what this world thinks. I don't care simply because the only thing I can even think about is you. It's you. It's you that I want to continue to hold hands with and take pictures with and laugh with. I don't want you to let me go when we watch scary movies and I want you to continue kissing my forehead when we lie down beside one another. I don't ever want to stop stealing your french fries and I don't want to stop catching you take sips from my strawberry shake. I just want you to stay with me. Please don't leave me. Stay. You are already stuck on my mind and running through my veins and I don't ever want to lose you.

~


so obvious the mistake
the ordered disorganization

the summation of a man's life
in an ampersand -
a logogram connection
tween two words,  
finally, properly sequenced

error then trial, then error then trial

perception - my life is an endless trial
punctuated and worsened,
periodically pierced
by errors
made of your own free (not really) choosing

"whenever confronted by a fork in my road,
I always chose wrongly"

and aye, here's the rub
the same mistake made repeatedly

example prime:
falling in love is just another way of saying
gonna end badly

and you constant cravenly confess
to yourself the ending unbecoming cause
you can read the handwriting on the wall
for your specialty is


*only love poetry for dummies

i sit by the shore
with each tide that rolls in
soaking my jeans to the salty waters kiss
i look down at the wet sand that gets pulled to the center of the ocean
by the command of the moon and at least
it has an immovable sense of calmness
but again everything is relative
i take a step in
inviting myself
intruding peaceful ripples to ripples now tailored to fit around the circumference of each leg like pegs in a triangular shaped board at ******* barrel
i shove my fist into the ground and the granules scrape against my knuckles
that’ll sting later..impulsive..
just like we were..
past tense
but we’re grown now or at least we’re expected to be

i take a step further in
i reached for a handful of the wet sand and
smudged it onto my legs
unconventional art
like peoples tags in graffiti and skateboard stickers on the doors of abandoned buildings in disturbed neighborhoods
showing culture in cities
splashes of individuality beyond a zip code
disrupt
organized disorganization
and i’m silently drowning but i see you from the shore
or a figment of my ongoing untamed imagination
you smirked
you still would say that you didn’t mean to- you were daydreaming-
focusing on the scenery than the whole episode- ‘your bad tho- it was your bad’

i begged for my life back
and you shrugged your shoulders and went on walking back to the docks..
i hated you from the moment i contemplated even treading the shore and you knew how the evening would go as soon as you caught sight of me.

I am longing to get lost somewhere far, far away. Away from the routine hum of constantly pushing the snooze button. Away from the stress of misunderstanding and complication, the hunger of chaos and disorganization. I desire to grasp the entire world with my own eyes rather than with a microscope that can only be focused on untouched possibility. I want to view life in vibrant colors I've only ever been able to understand in my mind and to speak of my adventures in words that have never been written down. I want to drive down avenues that no longer exist and balance at the very top of a mountain that has forgotten the feel of footsteps. I am thirsty for the impossible. I am exhausted of falling asleep to the sound of my own heartbeat banging against my bedroom walls and breathing in air that has already been exhaled in past lives. I will never settle for contentment. I will never settle.

Lying alone in the darkened room she could almost feel him there next to her. Closing her eyes she allowed both body and mind to be whisked away by her imagination. His steady heart beat and full breaths had always been a contrast to her somewhat faster heart and shallower breathing. She could feel the heat that always started in her chest begin to smolder to the surface. Never able to pinpoint the exact origin of this fire she liked to imagine it began in her heart and eventually burned its way out to become a visible tribute to the love she felt. Normally her body only flushed like this when they were actually lying together, usually tangled up and as close to each other as humanly possible. This passion was nothing more and nothing short of the true love few are allowed to experience in their life times and while *** would always be a factor in a relationship this heavy their feelings ran so much deeper for each other. She thought to herself how funny life could be, a man she once considered childish unorganized and dense had proved himself to be more than what he appeared. What she had taken as a childlike attitude was really his drive to achieve his dreams despite many setbacks, his disorganization was a quirk that had imbedded itself in his family for generations and it was this very fault that allowed him to live his life fully, while she could never imagine not planning her life out day by day, he preferred to take his days as they came, this had come as a shock to her at first but soon became a wonderful source of amusement. Plans she had set for a day were often stomped upon by his lack of thought and by many this would deem unacceptable but while her plans may not have worked he always found a way to make that day Amazing. His density really was what it appeared to be and yet it also held its place in his and her lives. With out his unbending will he would not have become the hockey player she had fallen madly in love with, they would also not be together for it was against her parents wishes they had been seeing each other for two years. Two years of having each other to hold, two years of becoming each others best friends. She knew more about him then he sometimes could remember about himself! He also had a way of astounding her with knowledge he had retained about her likes ,dislikes and about her life over all. One memory stood clearly out from the rest, they had gone to his mothers house for dinner, she had been asked what she would like to drink and seeing as how everyone else had asked for milk she joined in not wanting to be a bother. The part about this memory she loved was the look he gave her, it was quizzical and upon prompting he said "but you don't like milk, you never drink it!" she was quite taken aback because of course he was right, she never drank milk if she could help it, it left a sour taste in her mouth, but what had really astounded her was the simple fact that she had never told him this it was merely something he had noticed on his own. She could feel her love surging for him in that moment and now in this room. She breathed a sigh of contentment knowing that while hundreds of miles away there was still one boy in this world she could call hers. The heavy weight of strange linens no longer bothered her she knew that with each breath and thought she moved closer to sweet sleep. He always did seem to be the last thought to pass through her mind, the last image to flash before her eyes, and on most nights the last voice she heard before she drifted off. After glancing at the red glowing of her clock she closed her eyes and the very last whisper to float through her mind was "I love you".

This disorder is characterized by three or more of the following symptoms:

1. Odd appearance or behavior.
2. Peculiar coping mechanisms that do not seem to follow any logical train of thought.
3. Fumbling with language to the point of gross disorganization.
4. Odd perceptions that can range from illusions to hallucinations.
5. Strange beliefs that fluctuate wildly depending on context.
6. Wildly wavering opinions on others -- that is, a fluctuation between idealizing and devaluing people.

These symptoms must cause some sort of impairment in everyday functioning, social skills, and workplace skills.

Welcome, to the tragedy of my mind.
This distortion you see, you feel;
It's mine.
Take a peek inside, you'll be surprised.
Bright colours, radiant,
And thoughts  scream in my dreams;
Disorganization, puts me sleep.
Unscramble my words as they stay itching at your ear.
Say it out loud!
What's there to fear?
I'm the sunset!
Exploding across your indigo skies!
But you were the night.
You extinguished my flame,
You turned out the lights.
I was a bright orange, but you remained dark.
You turned my vibrant sunset,
Into nothing but burnt embers.
Now I can't conjour a sunset,
I don't remember.
Shades of grey float in my mind;
Words, dull and tasteless,
Falling flat to your feet.
Thoughts of lonliness comfort me to sleep.

Slurping accolades on Book of Faces,
****** poet **** romances himself.
Lubricating through superego Groups,
disorganization and breakdown of controls
chips him into corner. Bleak
moments of "Like" successes
are momentary arousals,
while blessings of truer constructive
criticisms become real get-offs. Spooging
on his own "Like"-abilities and
word-stock inventiveness he mops up
whatever approval he can.
Internet-tionalistic
becomes his coinphrase. He'll
Google-gunk it up in translation
to any language. So long as it buys him
some sensation. Forgive him,
for where else would he get it?

unanswered questions
like a parasite in the blood stream
i feel them crawling through my veins
the confusion and discontent
infects my forearms
i can sense my blood flowing with uncertainty
nothing makes sense
except for you -
listen to me
look in my eyes, not at them
see the sorrow and disorganization
be there, be ever present
calm my blood
be my rock
understand me
until i can understand myself

Turn the page, can you see that the pages have been erased, my shivering turns into screams, my heart pounds for instant gratification, I've found the lonely, I've found the love, instantaneously I fall to my knees.

Confrontation in front of my mere reflections, yes the faces are many, entertainment has rediscovered the hollow.

The weight of disorganization, I follow you as I catch a fading smile, don't turn to me wanting comfort, an execution of inheritance is long overdue.

Drifting into a flurry of cascading thoughts, my unsung influence is closely analyzed but you will be the one witnessing the unfortunate, establishing the quest is the ending to mistreatment.

Now back into the tunnel, a constant visual of the agony of my children, the purity of spirituality begins to cry.

Talent is not a description, the true pain of it all is feeling it all.

Written By: Christopher M. Schultz

I love you
You keep saying this to me
Expecting me to start undoing my bottoms
But that picture of you and her has been burned into my memory
You act like you two are just friends
But you are also a liar
Tell my wrists you love me
You are the guilter
Love to make others endure your pain, rather than dealing with things that are actually your fault
A table turner
Youve put yourself inside more than 20 bodies
I'm sick
I'm sick to my stomach
My tears stain my face like window pane glass catches rain
You tell her I'm crazy behind my back
That I'm JEALOUS
I want to claw your eyes out with rusty swords
I want to cut your tongue out of your mouth with a saw
To stain white carpets with your blood and not my own this time
I want to put your head on a spear and throw it down into the deep depths of the ******* ocean
I will show you ******* crazy
I want to rip your fingernails off one by one with a pair of tweezers
I want to shave your hideous eyebrows off your face
I want to cut off chunks of your hair with a swiss army knife and then bleach it
I want to gouge your eyeballs out with toothpicks and feed the remains to the piranhas
I want to pull all of the muscle out of your body and leave it for the ******* flames
Don't call me baby
I want to wax all of the legs hair off you
I want you to fall in love with someone
And then make you watch videos tapes of them cheating on you
Over and over and over
Until your eyes are a blood shot mess
Dont ask for forgiveness
You will never receive it
You are the devil reincarnated
I swear
I wouldn't be surprised if you were Satan's spawn
I hate you
I hate you like
The way my grandfather hates hypocrisy and things all against the bible
I hate you
The way my grandmother hates disorganization
I hate you
Like the way my mind hates my body
I want to wrap myself in a cocoon and never return until youre gone
My body misses sleep so much
But yet, here you sleep perfectly and j wish I could wrap my arms into your conscious and turn the switch back on
Why won't you change
I have never met anyone so disgusting
My chest physically aches when I heave for air
Because you've been sitting on my heart like a dagger
You're wounding to everyone around you
I am so sick of your voice
Hell I'm sick of my own
I just, can't figure out how one person can make you so sad.
I hate everything
But especially you.
Mostly you.

I was 8
Breaktimes at school were the best
I remember the small field-not-pitch
Where we played football
Not as a game of 22 players
and referees and rules
It was a game of 44;
No, 46 self acclaimed stars
It was a game of the whole school
Everybody against everybody
Indiscriminate of ***
Or skill
Of height differences or body frame
Tackled by your teammates for dribbling too much
You could pick up the ball and run
Rugby style to the opposition post
Then kick to score and most likely, miss
Or get mobbed even before you get to the post
It was all so exciting;
Such disorganization;
So much fun.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::


Disorganization
is the mother

of Destruction.

-R.

Tonight                  could           be unusual
You'll n e v e r              m/e/e/t    me again
?what's it change?
L0V1NG with all you've got
I'm lying there underneath the HOT
Burning sun with my hand in the s...a...n...d...
You're o  b s  e s  s e  d with y.o.u.r ability to
Change w'h'a't's "around" you (but)
Some
times
it's not EZVZEZRZYZOZNZE Else,
Just a w-av-e_ that runs -t-h-r-o-u-g-h- you
And maybe today you can stay
Just $lightly quiet......................................
Pre-tend like I AM YOURS>>>
Like we have it m*ade, though
(Nothing)'s for .certain.
$$ You're not g. e. t. t. i. n. g.  paid $$$$#$
And the people I meet 411(all) laugh
& throw & their & heads & back
Unless I sAY spoken words and utter some views and let feelings slip because then
I am a str A Y
With no where to l A Y down and
No reason to pr A Y
I have nothing to s A Y!1!!!
You're a B>>E>>AST of a man, with UR hair in disarray and your shorts are untied. . .
But let's ,ignore, the disorganization of the ^^w,O,rL,D around us
Taking ThIs moment beFORe us
It'll ring like a cHoRuS.. . . ... . ... ... .. .. . . in and outside the W ell.
We'll make it like n/e/v/e/r beFORe
____ No feet on the fLOOr ____
Just a !j!u!m!p! into un certain ty
(v)(v)(23)(fv)(4)()(z)()(0)(0)()()(9)(). Where no one will be W/ me
And while eA GleS take the j OOURRENYEEEYY . . .
P a s t the One empty"              trailer"
On                  the s.i.d.e of the                                            road
You and I, we'll CoRRoDE!
After "s"t"o"r"I"e"s untold&
Memories unfold
We will n e v e r grow O L D!!!

a tortured soul that
makes themself
a visionary through
a long,
boundless,
and
systematized disorganization
of
all the senses