"katamari" poems - Hello Poetry

delicate rituals of analytical loathing: i unravel myself. pick away shattered shimmer from cheek wipe black magic with soiled cloth rip undeservedly piece by piece torture inconsistency over inches or miles of skin. reconstructed with artificial spice, i am a new girl, i am new features, i am the new model. my eyes open under saltwater and so i sink or soak in seas of otherness but i am fresh, like forming flesh if flesh were sequined and stitched. roll, bite, pick up habits, dirt, memory, fight just to affix and roam on i must be a big O, a filthy lost prince, a katamari girl, never pleasin' no one.

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Aug 5, 2014

Aug 5, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC

raine

katamari

delicate rituals of analytical loathing: i unravel myself. pick away shattered shimmer from cheek wipe black magic with soiled cloth rip undeservedly piece by piece torture inconsistency over inches or miles of skin. reconstructed with artificial spice, i am a new girl, i am new features, i am the new model. my eyes open under saltwater and so i sink or soak in seas of otherness but i am fresh, like forming flesh if flesh were sequined and stitched. roll, bite, pick up habits, dirt, memory, fight just to affix and roam on i must be a big O, a filthy lost prince, a katamari girl, never pleasin' no one.

17

Imagine yourself a ball of wax falling through a cosmic crack a ball of steel both reflecting and holding all that's real part of a parade into a cave chanting about monks who in their trunks carried enlightenment too light for longing too heavy for moving and there you stayed what would you really want to say? And would it matter anyway? Imagine yourself a ball of wax falling through a cosmic crack a tiny Katamari calculating as you rolled along picking sticking lawn chairs, Chevrolets dancing flames poets in their heyday accumulating distant ideas lover's lips and strangers kiss all kinds of suffering could stick. Could you find your way home or is this all you've ever known? ***** of wax could be real, manufactured ideals, splendid ribbons of illusions unwinding and weeping teaching taking talking twisting through those cosmic cracks splintering Relax This is a a relaxation exercise after all. Imagine your self a ball of wax falling through a cosmic crack. ..

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Jan 31, 2014

Jan 31, 2014 at 10:06 AM UTC

sjr1000

Katamari

Imagine yourself a ball of wax falling through a cosmic crack a ball of steel both reflecting and holding all that's real part of a parade into a cave chanting about monks who in their trunks carried enlightenment too light for longing too heavy for moving and there you stayed what would you really want to say? And would it matter anyway? Imagine yourself a ball of wax falling through a cosmic crack a tiny Katamari calculating as you rolled along picking sticking lawn chairs, Chevrolets dancing flames poets in their heyday accumulating distant ideas lover's lips and strangers kiss all kinds of suffering could stick. Could you find your way home or is this all you've ever known? ***** of wax could be real, manufactured ideals, splendid ribbons of illusions unwinding and weeping teaching taking talking twisting through those cosmic cracks splintering Relax This is a a relaxation exercise after all. Imagine your self a ball of wax falling through a cosmic crack. ..

43

i'm unraveling myself too perfectly these days i pick away the shattered shimmer on my skin, lay my battered angel wings down to sleep, i wipe the black magic away with soiled cloth, rip off dresses i don't deserve, pinch every wrong answer on all miles of this skin tummy plastered with cut up magazine dreams legs so languidly hung, drenched in heavy wishes hands eternally full of more to roll in, more to soak up i beg the outside one to peel her face off of mine, twist the hair on this head till the scalp bleeds, let out the bitter girl made so haphazardly of littered leftovers

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Apr 1, 2013

Apr 1, 2013 at 4:20 AM UTC

amanojaku

katamari girl

i'm unraveling myself too perfectly these days i pick away the shattered shimmer on my skin, lay my battered angel wings down to sleep, i wipe the black magic away with soiled cloth, rip off dresses i don't deserve, pinch every wrong answer on all miles of this skin tummy plastered with cut up magazine dreams legs so languidly hung, drenched in heavy wishes hands eternally full of more to roll in, more to soak up i beg the outside one to peel her face off of mine, twist the hair on this head till the scalp bleeds, let out the bitter girl made so haphazardly of littered leftovers

13

Where are we In this maze of ropes This was once a Katamari of tropes Designed to make Us happier beings And now i feel Like we've lost our wings We've hit a dead end And to turn around Seems to be easy Give up the love we found But we can't do that And why would we? This is what we both need The way we wanted to be So i propose a new idea Don't turn around or reverse Don't do what we know Will make it worse Power through the dead end Carve our way through Make a new land The land of me and you

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Nov 24, 2015

Nov 24, 2015 at 1:05 PM UTC

Elexer

Where Are We?

Where are we In this maze of ropes This was once a Katamari of tropes Designed to make Us happier beings And now i feel Like we've lost our wings We've hit a dead end And to turn around Seems to be easy Give up the love we found But we can't do that And why would we? This is what we both need The way we wanted to be So i propose a new idea Don't turn around or reverse Don't do what we know Will make it worse Power through the dead end Carve our way through Make a new land The land of me and you

24

I'm a ****** I'm the oddball My style defiles piles of pop culture ads While I bounce off these rubber walls With a hamster running in my head, Until around two a.m. he goes to bed Typing a tapestry of insanity Pouring all the demons from my edeitic memory Blaming the insecurities on my pedigree Then destroy all the evil like a heroic entity. I keep peace without a peacekeeper I fight reapers hissing like creepers In a secret lair, Kronk pull the le-ver, Slashing male stereotypes, aren't I cleaver? You wouldn't want to try to battle my wits You'd ball your fists, I'd spit at you, sir And let my vernacular blast your brains This isn't a Robert Frost work, stay in your lane. You'd take the path less traveled, I'd pound the ground until the earth unraveled Leaving nothing but the gravel to grovel Like a duck without grapes you should waddle, I drink coffee by the hoddle, Never stuck in stop or stall, keep it rolling, I'm a Katamari, oddball.

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Nov 24, 2019

Nov 24, 2019 at 10:29 PM UTC

ryan-maroni

Brain Matter

I'm a ****** I'm the oddball My style defiles piles of pop culture ads While I bounce off these rubber walls With a hamster running in my head, Until around two a.m. he goes to bed Typing a tapestry of insanity Pouring all the demons from my edeitic memory Blaming the insecurities on my pedigree Then destroy all the evil like a heroic entity. I keep peace without a peacekeeper I fight reapers hissing like creepers In a secret lair, Kronk pull the le-ver, Slashing male stereotypes, aren't I cleaver? You wouldn't want to try to battle my wits You'd ball your fists, I'd spit at you, sir And let my vernacular blast your brains This isn't a Robert Frost work, stay in your lane. You'd take the path less traveled, I'd pound the ground until the earth unraveled Leaving nothing but the gravel to grovel Like a duck without grapes you should waddle, I drink coffee by the hoddle, Never stuck in stop or stall, keep it rolling, I'm a Katamari, oddball.

24