"labryinth" poems
Come on pilgrim,
vamos east
to Jerusalem and Mecca,
ferried from Algeciras to Tangier.
King James told me some stories,
he'd give me a ride, and
we can pull what we want
on abortion and abolition,
strung on a thorny rope
out of H. Christ's tight little *******
Black Francis, Picasso, and S. Dali;
chicos guapos, you are good to me.
I fight Pablo, a different one,
through Robert Jordan (ingles)
Pablo, eres un cobarde, go and
get gored by your bullheaded stupidity.
General,
I'll wander the labryinth,
slicing up eyeballs (oh ** ** **
unable to leave the room.
(they're only cow eyeballs, don't worry)
You Spaniards!
Yo hablo un poquito,
but those men
speak to my heart.
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 2:58 PM UTC
Life,
The four letter word that breeds new possibility with every escape of the mouth.
The illusion of created matter fluttering which ever way,
Taking the shapes of new forms but impossibly diceitful if it's all the same to you, really.
Life,
Oh, is that what you call it?
The birthing canal, the test-drive, the labryinth.
The uncurable dicease, like bleeding sores after entering a forest you probably should have avoided.
Those sores, those sores, those uncurable sores!
I'm covered in sores and you folks call this life.
Scratching the surface only makes it worse.
Diving in deep, the depths,
Black and blue because the insides are bruised, too, is the only way out.
Last night, or maybe last year, or maybe a past life,
If it's all the same to you, really,
I froze in fear like the look on a fishes scaly, wet face when he realizes what's to come of him and this hook in his mouth.
My immediate reaction was to vacate immediately.
But what do I fear? What am I trying to vacate?
Oh, right,
It's only me.
-Mae.B
Jun 13, 2012
Jun 13, 2012 at 10:11 AM UTC
He had eyes like the skies
Their vastness was mesmerizing
He had a smile like the sun
It could light up your world even if it was far away
He had a touch like electricity
The currents ran through your body at the slightest touch
He had a way about him that was like the sea
Always watching over the shore and never abandoning it
His words were like silk
You could wrap them around you and get tangled up in them
But the best part was his soul.
His soul emitted a light like no other.
A light that you wanted to spend your life observing.
A labyrinth that you wanted to get lost in.
m.h.
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 10:01 PM UTC
The chilling darkness with a fright night,
dawned a labryinth with a dead sight,
the roof of the world falling on the wattle huts,
and tremors created, shaking up the earth's crust
The catastrophe occurred without one's conscience
the lightening struck, rocks crumbled,
as the banshee waited with bated breath,
to ask, O God, " cui Bono" ?
The lush green fields flushed, dancing the lullaby,
thou, who curdled and nurtured us like thy baby,
asking " why thee destroy us, who created you"?
That the graveyard left no place for burial,
the earth created a grave for undead,
I ask you, "O Mighty, where shall I find peace to lay down my soul"?
As the mothers womb evacuate to parturite,
the devil of krakatora arose from the earth,
and created a black hole as smooth as silk,
my heart cried, thinking"Holy Aborigines, cui bono"
with richer dreams slept the human mind,
their thoughts fulfilled, by diversified montony swinging into action, I ask,"Is these flesh worth only to be crushed by stones"?
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 7:08 AM UTC
Count the doves in the 7pm pink,nostalgic sky
Watch them blend in harmony with tricoloured flags
As crips yellow leaves fall in the backdrop
As faint chimes heard from a distant
Worship at dawn, spew venom at dusk
Our brains preserved in jars, our hearts kept on shelves
Hostages to pale white buildings are we not
Decoding the labryinth that ends at the halo
A sip of whiskey to regain my conciousness
A drop of blood to blind myself back again
Anxiously search for the poisoned apple
Disguising itself in the shine of its benevolence
The smell of incense and ashes embrace my body yet haunts my soul
Amplifying my thoughts provoked by your blood and meat
My picnic basket holds my fears and not your blessings
At least for an evening, let me escape
At least for a night, let me liberate myself from being your child.
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 9:38 PM UTC
Can I fold your clothes?
Like I fold my opinion
Into smaller and smaller
Fragments of thought.
Can I hold your hand?
Without you sinking
In quicksand.
Left with noughts
No crosses, no kisses?
I'd thank God but he left me
But if not, only to test me.
And I can't find myself.
I can't deduce the deluded
Chaos of this Labryinth.
But I can try,
Die.
Fail or fly.
Aug 27, 2017
Aug 27, 2017 at 3:56 AM UTC