"experiement" poems - Hello Poetry

i’m an experiement a looking glass dummy an embalmed corpse waiting for graduation day and a snake waiting for the glass to break

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Jun 18, 2011

Jun 18, 2011 at 12:23 AM UTC

taylor-browne

ouch

i’m an experiement a looking glass dummy an embalmed corpse waiting for graduation day and a snake waiting for the glass to break

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Have you ever Sat next to a Neon yellow-orange pig? Stared into its black eyes, Its thick black eye brows, It's two big black nostrils surrounded By that Neon orange Skin, And wondered why the kitten, Who enters with such Curiosity and sniffage, Cares so much at first and then, Cares so little at all. Certain men Are like This. Certain women, Act Like this. Certain people Are meant to make Certain people Better people. We are the building blocks Of Eachother, one another, everyone. And I can't stand The way my mind thinks and behaves/ Self-desctructs, re-constructs These visions of illusory Reality. I've achieved nothing, Yet, I smile at the clouds who've achieved Everything By Molecularly genetic chance. Aren't we all just mistakes In the gigantic genome experiement of life? Accomplishing...something? You know...I've got a pig roast this Saturday? You know...I think about moving And I think about screaming at strangers? You know...I wonder what it would like to be hit by a 80 mile an hour car? You know I know that all my peers, all my friends, all My closest dearest closer than family people Are utterly miserable with everything and just WANT TO GET AWAY FROM IT ALL Exhale But, To Where? We can't all become Three million dollar Junkies, Can we? There is no great state Anymore. It's broken. The ideology Of war Is Dead. Patriotism has turned The country inward when All should be Outward. But then, you make, The hair on the neck, Stand on end. Be in the scene and see The small grains of sand atop Her big toe nail, the sun-reflecting upon the nail, How its pink shade reminds you of Cotton candy no, bubblegum, yes, Bubblegum. These are the minds Of formers past. They've made their trists and tried Their minds toward Life that was both meaningful and Meaningless. What I wish to do is paint with words, Our words, So, When all is finished, I can see, without mirror For a mirrow is a stage and a stage Is too close, as is, the mirror. Our age needs distance to affect Any change. What we've become, What we truly are, From there, From here so to Perhaps see, Where we, Should go, next.

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May 6, 2015

May 6, 2015 at 2:48 AM UTC

ashby-brown

Soft Bell/Distant Bell

Have you ever Sat next to a Neon yellow-orange pig? Stared into its black eyes, Its thick black eye brows, It's two big black nostrils surrounded By that Neon orange Skin, And wondered why the kitten, Who enters with such Curiosity and sniffage, Cares so much at first and then, Cares so little at all. Certain men Are like This. Certain women, Act Like this. Certain people Are meant to make Certain people Better people. We are the building blocks Of Eachother, one another, everyone. And I can't stand The way my mind thinks and behaves/ Self-desctructs, re-constructs These visions of illusory Reality. I've achieved nothing, Yet, I smile at the clouds who've achieved Everything By Molecularly genetic chance. Aren't we all just mistakes In the gigantic genome experiement of life? Accomplishing...something? You know...I've got a pig roast this Saturday? You know...I think about moving And I think about screaming at strangers? You know...I wonder what it would like to be hit by a 80 mile an hour car? You know I know that all my peers, all my friends, all My closest dearest closer than family people Are utterly miserable with everything and just WANT TO GET AWAY FROM IT ALL Exhale But, To Where? We can't all become Three million dollar Junkies, Can we? There is no great state Anymore. It's broken. The ideology Of war Is Dead. Patriotism has turned The country inward when All should be Outward. But then, you make, The hair on the neck, Stand on end. Be in the scene and see The small grains of sand atop Her big toe nail, the sun-reflecting upon the nail, How its pink shade reminds you of Cotton candy no, bubblegum, yes, Bubblegum. These are the minds Of formers past. They've made their trists and tried Their minds toward Life that was both meaningful and Meaningless. What I wish to do is paint with words, Our words, So, When all is finished, I can see, without mirror For a mirrow is a stage and a stage Is too close, as is, the mirror. Our age needs distance to affect Any change. What we've become, What we truly are, From there, From here so to Perhaps see, Where we, Should go, next.

100

When will you stop hurting me? How much more do i have to take? Is this an experiement to see what u can make? The love is there beneath despair but its seeping through the cracks. When will i stop accepting it? When will it be enough?

0

Sep 19, 2016

Sep 19, 2016 at 4:03 PM UTC

Striped

Hurt

When will you stop hurting me? How much more do i have to take? Is this an experiement to see what u can make? The love is there beneath despair but its seeping through the cracks. When will i stop accepting it? When will it be enough?

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