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CyRhen Sohngs Jun 2011
A sunny serenade of Cyan Skies

On a Strangely soothing Sunday afternoon

In the south wing



The White Rabbit tells me about

Beautiful Butterflies batting their wings

To the beat of a bohemian movement

and I blush at the gesture

And

The Mad Hatter tells me about

The Kevorkian crawdads clawing at each other

Under the crystal clear stream

Bent like a Candy Cane

And I cry for the dead.



I hear her, I hear her

But I also hear the

Marsh Hare

And

The Marsh Hare tells me about

The analytical anarchists armed with arms

Marching around the inner atrium screaming

"All hail Anarchy!", "All hail Anti-Society!"

Aiming for the heart

And I amaze myself



I hear her, I hear her

And because of her I hear

The chains and restraints



The Queen of Hearts tells me about

My fantasies of White Rabbits

My dreams of Mad Hatters

My imaginings of Marsh Hares

And how only she is real



The straps are too tight

The clothes too thin

The walls too thick



And she stabs me

With a Red Rose

All in white, The Queen of Hearts Says


Wake Up Alice


And now I can see

My sunny afternoon is shady

And

I am barred from my butterflies.
Larry B Apr 2010
Well, I tried the paper cut
Like Dr. Kevorkian said
But the band-aid stopped the bleeding
It didn't work, I'm still not dead

I just couldn't do it
The paper didn't cause my death
So now I've resorted to other measures
I'm typing this, while holding my breath

Well, I held my breath
Until my whole head turned blue
I woke up on the floor
Now, what do I do?

There is one more thing
But I'd hate to die like this
For I know it would **** me
To give my mother-in-law a kiss

My wife just told me
That it's time to eat some beans
So I'll eat me some and light a match
For it will ******* to smithereens
Johnnyqu33r Nov 2016
When the sun came up,
The ocean ate her.
She sat on the beach
and patiently waited.

Starlight spoke to her,
Before the sun took over.
Planted the seed deep,
She'd be dead at dusk.

Fear has a sour taste,
She never got used to it.
Anticipation made her sick,
Ignorance helped it grow.

The shore was serene,
The sea was on fire.
Her feet were frigid,
Her body soon followed.
Dark n Beautiful Oct 2018
Her eyes were wide open: she spoke with confident
The sun shines brightly from the west
That came directly from the boardwalk:

I tried not to stare directly at her lower parts
But once I look at the negativity :the body shaming
Keep on rising, my lips were sealed:

Hello, my name is Anna, and how are you?
I heard about them, I saw their videos
But to be up close: defaming the obesity epidemic
I saw Lucy the human sow pig,
The Triumphant Elephant struggles,
Years of food that could have save thousands
Of hungry children lives:
she lay there dictating, deteriorating

I stood there as a poet with a pen.
not a Nurse of a friend,
Gasping, sighing
She fights for air;
I fumbled for words of expression:

To report back to Jack Kevorkian:
Was on displayed: there that day
Her hands reach for the oxygen wire,
I knew and she knew how I felt about her
She looked right at me, when she said the words

“Anna do you speak the Language
I said “oh no, “God forbid
And from that moment,
I know she was waiting, waiting,
To leave this world behind her:


Sadly, I got to know her better,

she was sweet and sour at the same

she brought a bottle of champagne for the staff for
the New years, and in February she passed away..
R.I.P Dora
I have no soul

I have been cored harshly like apples ready to be sauced

The only things in my life I willed to keep were stolen away

Too afraid to do it myself could Kevorkian help me out?

Oddly, after all the talking I've done, I've no fight left

Just tears of self-pity

Two innocent lives will relive the cycle of my life

Due to the meddling of a horrible girl

Too obsessed with her own gain to realize their loss

If there were a God, He would strike her dead

If I were God...

Those things are better left unsaid.
This one hits me hard. The original title was a name. I will be the better person this time and give it a different title.
Brett Jul 2021
I got Jack Kevorkian in the trunk of,
My 911 Porsche Sport
With a leaky transmission and
Lighter fluid in the oil pan to,
Set myself ablaze
          because
I'm the hottest killer in the game
Just a poet
Who pulls his threads of passion
From the sickness in his pain
The ink is blood that
          leaks out from my veins and,
Scribbles musings so desperate on the page
My mouth is like a leaky faucet
           but
My hearts a busted watermain
           Flooding and empty room
Drowning out the poor excuse of
           The boy I was
In my wasted youth
A denizen of ***** diner booths
            With napkin rhymes that in my mind
Create the grand design of wasted time
That draws pencil lines
            Sketching out
This life of mine
Joseph C Mar 2011
I found my way through postcards to a dead end avenue
It reminded me why I left this place and I knew just what to do
So I jumped inside a space suit and sank into your soul
Now it's hard to hold a smile when it's always so ******* cold

I came across a crucifixion and my teeth started to fall out
I tried to ask for forgiveness but I was too late 'cos what I said was mumbled out
And my nerves started crawling like worms out of my mouth
Those coffee colored cowards curled into musical rounds

And tell me if you've heard this one...where the three blind mice eat other?
And the thirteenth fairy was Jack Kevorkian and did that sleeping girl a favor
Then in the courtyard I found Jesus hooked up to a morphine drip
I asked him about the human race he said "I couldn't give a ****"

So I walked into the jungle that was tangled like your hair
I've been down to this dead end before and I really couldn't care
That I was walking back through postcards that were naked in my dreams
We're just like fish without fins trying to swim up a dried up stream
Dark n Beautiful Sep 2018
Her eyes were wide open: she spoke with confident
The sun shines bright through the open window
That looks directly to the boardwalk:

I tried not to stare directly at her lower parts
But once I look the negativity :the body shaming
Keep on rising, my lips were sealed:

Hello, my name is Anna, and how are you?
I heard about them, I saw their videos
But to be up close: defaming the obesity epidemic
I saw Lucy the human sow pig,
The Triumphant Elephant struggles,
Years of food that could have save thousands
Of hungry children lives: she lay there dictating,

I stood there as a poet with a pen. Gasping, sighing
She fights for air; I fumbled for words of expression:
To report back to Jack Kevorkian:
Billing above care: day in and day out:
Was on displayed: there that day
Her hands reach for the oxygen wired,
I knew and she knew how I felt about her

She looked right at me, when she said the words
“Anna do you speak the Language
I said “oh no, “God forbid
And from that moment,
I know she was waiting, waiting,
To leave this world behind her:
Menu
Hello. You have reached Hietter House.
Please listen carefully as our menu options
Have been redesigned to serve you better.
If you are calling from a Touch Tone phone,
Please press, now, as many buttons as you
Can at the same time- if you hold your fingers
Horizontal rather than perpendicular to the
Buttons , the maximum number can be depressed.
If you wish to speak to a living human being, pour
Yourself a stiff drink, get comfy, and press P for patience.
If you are calling from a cell phone and ready to toss
It out the window, please press S, then O, then S.
If you are calling from a pay phone and ready to
Rip it off the wall, pound the pound key instead.
If by now you are totally frustrated and tempted to strangle
Yourself with the phone cord, please press K for Kevorkian.
If however you are calling to contribute to the Jimmy
Fund or to publish the Hietter poems, please stay on
The line, and an agent will be with you immediately:
“Greetings, beloved benefactor, this is Jimmy.”
CJ Sutherland Dec 2023
Do we Ask The Silence Questions?

What is an acceptable quality of life?
Birth Defects;
Conjoined twins
Cerebral palsy
Down syndrome
Blind, Deft
Cleft palate
Childhood Cancer

At what point do we ask?
Are we Humans playing god?
Test tube baby acceptable
Just because we can
does it mean we should?

We are looking for the answers!

We need to see our way clear
Corrective lenses, Glasses
Cataract surgery
Retinal detachment,
Blind

Listening for hard truth, what will we find?

Hearing aids
Ringing in your ears
Deft

People speaking without hearing a sound


At what point do we ask?
What constitutes Contributing to life?

When is a person a Burden to society?

When limited Movement is painful;We Stop
Arthritis
Tingling, Numbness
Neuropathy
Degenerative disc disease
Fused vertebrae surgery
Paralyzed from the neck down
Bedridden

We Elect Surgery to regain mobility

Our desire for a better quality of life

Carpal Tunnel Syndrome
Total Knee Replacements
Hip Replacements
Physical Therapy
Walkers, wheelchairs, braces,

Losing Control, Fighting for your life!

Alzheimer’s
Schizophrenic
Bipolar
INSANE
At what point do we ask?

Who determines when a person is
Unable to comprehend life?

CANCER The “C Word “

At what point do we ask?
When the pain is unbearable?
Hang on, orLet Go!
Chemo therapy
Body rejecting medication
Breast Cancer, cervical cancer
Reconstructive augmentation

Allergies, coughing, asthma, COPD
Oxygen therapy  
Ventilator assisted breathing

At what point do we ask?
When Health Situations Demands Actions !

Taking stock Emotionally
Get your Affairs in order

Heart Attack
Pace maker, regulator, stent
Dialysis
Kidney failure
Kidney transplant
***** transplant
Metal plate in your head
Artificial limbs

At what point do we ask?
When do you pull the plug?
Coma
Brain dead
life support
Resuscitate
DNR do not resuscitate

At what point Do we ask
Are we NO LONGER  HUMAN
Are we creating A new species?

Where in your body does your Soul reside?

At what point do we ask?
When is this action acceptable?
Assisted suicide, Dr. Kevorkian
Hospice care is not life Care
Giving Up, Choosing to Die

At what point do we ask?
Is this acceptable?
  Even if we were healthy our entire life, the world is stacked against us!
Breathing, eating ingesting poison!

GMO, Genetically modified food
What are they doing to our body?
Chlorine 200+ chemicals in our water
Poisonous gases chemicals (chem) trails
at what point do we ask?
WHY?
Dr’s treat the symptoms But
Rarely look for The medical condition
Etiology unknown
Pill's that ****, ineffective treatment
The side affects are worse than the cure
Untested not approved Shots
Fake plan-demic Human  ginny pigs

At what point do we ask?
Will we ever know the long term effects.
The damage done To our bodies
Human experiments Without our Consent full understanding ,knowledge
Are Eugenic at play.?

We engage in conversations considering
the best possible solutions
However
There are Definitely more
Questions then answers!

At What Point Do we ask?
Where do we go from here?
Tom Shields Oct 2020
I don’t understand
Gravitas, perhaps, natural tendency to gravitate, toes pointed as I am pulled by gravity
By the tips of my fingers, gently by the hand
Brevity bereft of me, levity, I levitate, barely, I scrape the floor
Forward, toward the never, come whatever, forget-me-forever more
Living is not always not giving up, a chalice is not chaste based on the contents
For then each sip is just from a cup

Martyrdom in suicide is not such an achievement despite the cause
It is far harder to live in prison, unbroken, undeterred, and give no pause
Slip not once, sink no ship, your waves wash you out to see
That execution or rebellion are the options if you cannot be buried from sight and memory
They must **** you, or they must set you free

Truth is I put myself on suicide watch and amped up the difficulty in isolation, I adjusted for escalation, planted my flag in my own planet and passed aggression on from an alien nation, I am the success story of self-destruction via denial hoisted on self-worship, self-desecration, idol and with idle hands I carved a jigsaw puzzle to cover this sham up under, I own two handguns and two rifles, so many sleeping pills I could be writing this with my heart scaled up while my pen is dipped in Nyquil, how did I ever age? I hit the page with more free time and enough pent up rage to form a blockade with protesters who sit on the road, and I lie still, I don’t believe in the voiceless, the language is keep away and you’re being victimized, profit off it when you call it, every four years, but the circus tent has long since been pitched, it’s people who are not fit, when I pass a background check, enough melee weapons alone to arm a small riot, I write it and if there’s a hint of calling for help, everybody better stay quiet, I’m as petty and sour as I enjoy verbal fighting, a radioactive depression that gives my toad brain more power, calamities to call tragedies, stricken by maladies we laugh at misfortune from safety like they’re comedies and then when it strikes back we cower, that’s karma, it’s not a ***** it just reminds you that you are, I punch a clockface out, glass in my hand, dry blood from the witching hour

I don’t care about any debate, destroy me, there’s nothing of human value left to depreciate
I love writing
I think because I know it’s killing me at a speed I can live with
My agreeable terminal, I punch in and tick moments off right quick then,
Swap a topic, fall into a moral quandary over whether or not I’m any good if nobody online actually follows me
This alone is a hybrid, abortion breathing, free-form and hip-hop influenced poetry
To actually get in verse I ride a coffin in the back of a hearse, dead seriously
I’ll cross the room and switch the instrumental in my mind, bass’ boom for bass guitar and guttural vocals heralding doom
Shredding razors in the throat, spitting blood on every line, metal as all hell, and then drop both genres and just be me, because honestly
Writing in a style other people want to see, it’s their baggage and it’s a lot to carry
They want the quotables, make it short and breezy, digestible and pretty
To not have to think before they put my text against a background for their socials, to say that’s deep, or fake awe at the beauty
I want to unravel your brain with chopsticks, eat it from your skullcap, steamed on rice, I want to **** you for wanting to **** me, contain me, making me marketable, I do not adhere to a public relations strategy
I’d go barefoot if we walked in each other’s shoes, some of youse would go blind in an instant if you had access to my memory
Swap back, I for another I, if I had to live your life I’d likely die, if you couldn’t master the nuanced pressure of mine, you’d think this cage is made of gold before we said goodbye
Suffering on the surface, plain, at least that I understand, there’s infinite ways to hurt each other, we haven’t even reached the surface, the worst year so far, let’s see what time has planned
Mass appeal would require something like bending into an unnatural shape, I still hit subjects that make my most dedicated go, “Who asked you how you feel?” I’d rather give a thousand words a lot of hot air than fix you four lines for your timeline so you can have a pretty meal, my chum for thought is that we’re going to fight for the plate, you takeaway whatever you ate; now that’s a steal
I’m not making food that’s visually appeasing, it’s never meant to be
You better eat your ******* vegetables before I chase you through the woods
Like I’d be(an) stalk you through the mist and steam off the broccoli,
Restrain you to a chair and table and make you apologize to Gaia while I record you eating every tiny tree
That was corny

Oh right,  
White people always compare their lives to the struggle of such,
How do they know, among this entire pigment, who has ever felt the true oppressive touch?
My own family hates my own family for being Catholic, for being percentages, excuses for their nature to come out when the reality is as simple as this much
If history has a villain, they cast a white man to play the role
In America, what can be said that hasn’t about any single part or the country as a whole?
Culture is a beast with many different heads, it’s a tapestry, a quilt, with so much reality, so many woven threads,
That we forget what some of our revolutionaries have fought, killed, and sacrificed their lives for, the marches and tears, sweat and wars, what has been done and said
We’re all one race, all people, and I believe this
If everyone gave each other respect, they could give each other love, and if everyone felt love, we could have peace; on at least one front of our faults
But we would rather **** each other and record it, or be the murderer, or those who stand by and watch a murderer and twiddle their thumbs behind their uniform rather than stop them instead
The KKK, Proud Boys, white supremacy
In order to believe in any supremacy, of an individual, even one who makes up a group that lends itself to the supposed supreme status of their people as a whole
How many of your own people must you anger, terrify and drive out of your life first?
Racism is the useless paradox imposed by man on man, it’s a testament that a human can fly to space and still represent a species so profoundly dumb, break down the population it stems from, they say white people, perhaps that’s not all so true historically, I’ve seen the news recently, but white supremacy targets a universal majority, it seems less prevalent, the sheet-wearing bigotry, these immortal-initial-colonizer sheep, they bleat and I spit at thee, I have a theory about the sideways growth of hatred if you’ll listen to me, torches and Templar’s misappropriated crosses set aside, they stake their claim in nationalism and pride, in costume the mob is easier identified, malignant ignorance is never done yet, so it has evolved in these diluted and polluted hotbeds to infect, infest, spread through these hotheads wherever it can get, by rifle toting idiocy, violence at idle decree, hate crimes change with the times and take on society to challenge the system legally, where the woken minds sleep, there’s the backwards-open minds, narrow but in their own eyes they’re wide, seemingly, they pick convenient history, the bad parts they forget, no questions without the right answers on their ears do they ever let, basically you don’t need a burning cross and robes because it’s not your skin, it’s your mindset!

In short within the races are people who hate their own people, racists, activists especially, serve an agenda that encourages the hatred of an umbrella, and it falls over the heads of most of the world, no matter their race
If you were the devil’s advocate you might find it hard to help a group who won’t include their own people, they make us all look bad enough that the term “white people” doesn’t even apply to people who are white so much anymore
In short, in the fight to establish white supremacy, white supremacists have established white people as a joke, an insult, because their actions are extreme and radical and reflect on all of us
In short, I am a white man, I condemn not only white supremacists and racists, pedophiles and rapists, but if a group is so counterproductive to acknowledging that we can all coexist in peace in harmony if we only work for it, strive, want it, and give up what stands in the way
If we only give respect to each other there can be love, and if there can be love, there can be peace
In short, if all else fails hit racists in the head area, they aren’t using it for much
In short, I support the death penalty for pedophiles and rapists
**** a **** and it’s good for your soul, **** a ******* and it’s like cleaning a stain left in the fabric of the universe

And white people, even I’m sick of it, don’t talk about a pie-chart of how many places you’re from if you’ve never left the continent, I’m just a ******* Texan, I don’t care what anyone says, just be a white person, be a good person, and take back some of the dignity we left in shreds
I never loved my roots, I never understood the interest in picking through leaves at your ancest-tree, my heritage is as old as I am and I want to let the dead be, but the stories, I never turn them down whenever they tell me, that my grandfather, Ted, dad to my mom, he was a tragic figure, a tortured war hero, an alcoholic, immigrant, a father of six, third in line of the men in his own family for what I call the curse, his father and his brother, fatal heart attacks, a coal miner, a rambunctious cook, an abusive and explosive bottle of rage who killed real Nazis, who threw bottles at my mom and said he’s keeping a corner of Hell warm on RSVP, all I think of when I remember him are these horror stories… because that ******* used to beat my mother, she would shield her sister even though she was so tiny see, my aunt was even younger, and he terrorized my uncles so they were scarred for life, four older brothers, I can’t tell if my family even loves each other, he made people in his home duck and run for cover, killed enemies overseas and sent all his money back to Vietnam families when his own was starving and he didn’t answer to them for their supper, he would let them suffer, drink his cheap ****, swig and swing blind, if you couldn’t outrun him falling over, you’d get hit, steal my mom’s whole paycheck and make her taxi him around, the only shame is I know him so well, and I never got him to save me a seat in Hell with him while he was above ground, I inherited the curse, the genetic predisposition to explode, heart valves and fly into a blind rage mode, I hope I’m lucky enough to die before I ruin too many lives like my uncle Buck, **** talking about kings in the past, I talk about my branch of the artery, this bloodline spurt being the last, when I see my ancestors I’ll tell them to kiss my ***, dismiss them all and gift them all with the graceful presence of stooping low enough to graduate the class, grandpa you spent so much time trying not to be an Irishman that you became Alabama white trash, get disowned, dethroned, be alone, make my dad’s family’s teeth gnash, they know I know their idea of buying trust involves transactions with literal goods and cash, if they ever leverage my nephew or my brother or my sister-in-law, I’m gonna be gone, manifesto blank pages, plans in my head drawn, vest on, we’ll take confession, and I’ll give the toxins their poison communion, they’re already dead to me, just match the image with the reality and call that **** a family reunion

There’s something very wrong with me
I’m comfortable with the idea of dying suddenly and dying, suddenly
The notion is like Kevorkian,
It visits often and the offer never befuddles me
The danger inherent to someone of such low-tide mental stability
I know why she wouldn’t tell him yet, why would she?

I’ll tear a thought of thin air and plant it on my descendants in the form of an aneurysm like a Death Row pendant, when they drop everyone will stop and wonder how it got there, I’ll **** the conception of an idea in your very head, while you dream it up in bed, and black out the lights across your country so even satellites can’t figure out why it looks like the sun is out at night, I’ll raise my white fist for black power, shout it and dive onto a riot shield with my face so full of mace I come up in online footage looking like a disgrace, more a threat to getting snot and tears all over cops even after the protesting stops in the first place, I’ll say it for real with no joke, black power, and choke on the smoke from California to Australia, if the Navy can figure out where to drop me off, I’ll clear my cough, I’ll be pale and pallid with the heart of darkness and love without respect for anyone or any culture, I’ll never let authority **** me, I’ll unleash a jungle cat caged inside, pacing back and forth, knowing the flesh and ribs holding it have no worth, a spectator to an infrastructure devastator/orator, a tyrant king on a militant fling like Malcom X Boseman, cut off a speaker and throw sonic waves so hard they break every other spine that’s weaker, spill my guts and crush you until you’re ashes and a puff of smoke like cigarette butts, a roadie but believe me I will throw bose, man, and if they’re twenty feet off the ground I’ll frog splash you, just to toothpaste your stomach and laugh when you stand up with whiplash too, jump into a mosh-pit and **** you so fast the police will arrive on time at the scene of an active crime, **** a Pulitzer, I’m a howitzer, I want to break the Geneva Convention with a rhyme, my plan is to go to archery camp and throw bows, man, get ******* when I can’t hit the target, jab an arrow through the counselor’s heel, arteries, and nose and grab fifty fuel cans, fill up a reservoir with gasoline, spray it from a hose and light the whole world on fire until I can sit back and admire how it all looks from the frying pan

When I can, I sit with both legs crossed, straight up in bed
Always late at night, and I close my eyes
No new thoughts in, only old out
And after I take that in, sometimes
I ask myself:
“What do you want?”
“As a writer?”
“No. As yourself.”
“In general?”
“In your life. A partner? Career?”
I look at this, stripped of all the logic and side-details, the painstaking instantaneous processing the human mind can comprehend to create existential anxiety
I reflect in a negative manner
“27, newly licensed, single white male owner of four firearms. Not employed, not published, history of mental health issues, poor student, unattractive and uncomfortable in general, and I am only distantly okay at my one main hobby. My ‘art’ my writing.”
I heard a knock on the door that woke me up and screamed at it, in a condo, while I was by myself, I’d never woken up midscream before
So, I worried if I was late and someone in my true family needed me
I was just scared, alone with what I am like for a few seconds one day
Now I close my eyes and I know they have done everything
Without them I am not even a real person
If I had no assistance, there would be no living with my head
They would need to cut it off
I shamble on, bleary eyed and without focus
Starry dreams of what I could and can accomplish, walking dead
I am so casually dismissive of all the red flags, I don’t care,
I have not left myself, something has retreated into me, and I must go and find it
For when I search myself for some dire components, they’re not there.
write
please read and enjoy

— The End —