\ | /
\ •think my /
pen's almost dry•it's get-
ting oh so hard•ideas seem to just
\ fly on by•i'm unable to deal any more /
cards•bottom of the barrel•i seem to be
scraping•trapped in a long, dark tunnel•
coherence eluding...the words that need
inking•i need a simple little trick...•to
soothe this perpetual itch•need my
/ bulb come on really quick•hope- \
fully as soon as I flick on
/ the...switch• \
| ooooooooooo |
Ten days of silence
Then you whisper a word
A single puzzle piece
Is all that is heard
So cryptic, so soft
And what does it mean
When ciphers are scoffed
And wisdom obscene
Just hold it and wait
You’ll see one fine day
A lightbulb will light
You will see the way
Things fit in place
In crystalline form
The sear of that face
And the dust, and the worm
The art can get wet
And the artist can see
If the hand can forget
That the master is free
When playing the part
Of the folks in his game
With sight for the blind
New strength for the lame
as I lie awake staring at the ceiling
I see the fluorescent light bulb flickering
for how long it will remain bright is uncertain
the cold breeze pans my vision to the curtain
now I see the moon brightly shining
looking back at the tiny fluorescent light, I kept comparing
why can't I see the moon when there is rain
but when skies cry this light bulb is here to remain
then a quick flash kept my ears ringing
I've answered my questions without even knowing
the moon leaves me everyday
but even if I **** it, the tiny fluorescent lightbulb will stay
For the feelings I've left in the past
honey on a lightbulb
in the hopes
for shiny bees
and itsy bitsy blankets
for the bed bugs
just trying to sleep
i feel bad for planets
galaxies and milkshakes
unable to receive
pick up my phone call
pick up the moon
i am sorry for the things
i don't understand
the soap bubbles and the seams
I am the lightbulb
That burned out last night
But no one sees until morning
i know well the fear as it manifests
in the dampness come night
dollar bills burn hot in pocket
the reddened skin of my inner thighs
fights to fray the cloth, but i
i'm better off sleeping in my pants
and my shoes, as to evade
then this thing clicks and the misfit
cuts come to fall into plan
by design, without fail, buy and sell
then there's me, this thing replete
with confidence in its destruction
by its hand, or on demand, its a
matter of course lightbulb!
I just got home from work and driving through the sun rise after stopping at the gas station for cigarettes.
The pink lightbulb guides me up the steps to my apartment and I'm greeted by Sophie the pitbull,
she wiggles and runs happy to see me.
She's the first one into the bedroom when I open the door and as I change out of my work clothes I pet her and kiss her head, complimenting on how cute she is the whole time.
Then I light a candle, pack a bowl and go to Netflix in search of Bob Ross, The Joys of Painting.
On this episode he is painting a night scene in the forest.
On the floor in the dark room,
The occasional lightbulb flicker
Brings some hope back to my blue-glazed eyes,
But it's a mere distraction.
I imagine that the lightbulb can see;
Awake when it's shining,
In the light I seem free,
My body moves. My voice, it speaks,
Speaks like the one it once belonged to,
Before the locked room lost its key.
The bulb will never see
The ******* the ground,
Or the shelves that collapse
Silently, as tears tie her down.
So why am I surprised,
That the lightbulb never stays?
Through its eyes, the room is a palace
With a princess, troubles seemingly erased.
How would it know of the dungeon
That is formed where she lays?
Darkness, once more.
Dusty old and gray
Always either spinning or perfectly still
It creaks when it spins
Like the bones of an elderly woman
One bulb is almost burnt out flickering on and off
Wanting the motivation to stay alive but losing it anyway
and now this bulb has run out of light
Now encompassed in darkness
Two bulbs remain shining so luminously Optimistic like they’ll never burn out
unknowing the impending darkness to come
that they are unable to pause
unable to slow
unable to stop
I’ve never seen a ceiling fan and it’s bulbs like this before
Excuse me if when I said an elderly woman instead of human triggered you it just sounded better
… A moth whispering confessions high towards the ceiling… worshiping a false god and its dooming light… as the moth wings are burning with unrequited love… flapping self-fulfilling prophecies...
My wings are growing and I wonder… are you to be my lightbulb...
It's all for a laugh
Why the long face horse's ****,
Put a lightbulb where the sun don't shine
And lighten the **** up
This is a roller coaster, baby
I don't know where it stops
But it's all for the crack
You can stumble as much as you want
Fall if you need to
My hysteria will see the funny
Sunny side of the street
Make a dance for happy feet
So don't be sad
Come laugh it up with the lads
You're one of the boys
Toys that is
We can play all night
Not so nicely with the other kids.
My tribute to The Joker of Batman fame.
Maybe it’s at 3am with the lights on
or 1pm in the orange gleeming sun.
When I think about dying,
it’s not after my brothers punch.
It’s the moment between feeling everything
and absolutely nothing at all.
I am eating clean, working every muscle,
and still this part of me is oozing black.
On Sunday my smile fades
like the orange sun in November’s 6pms.
Meeting my friends disappointment in me,
and for dinner my godmothers dismay.
How many girls does it take to die to make you believe their emotions are valid?
How many men does it take to fix
a lightbulb without a fuse?
The lightbulb on the roof
Is flickering with proof
That the mind is dangerous
It's a poison in our youth
Our thoughts are hazardous
There's war inside of us
How are we still alive?
The abyss is cavernous
That to which we strive
We know will never thrive
We're told we should surrender
We weren't destined to survive
Our wounds are feeling tender
Our hopes are getting slender
We're buying what we're told
From the catastrophe vendor
Our brains fill with mould
Our bodies grow cold
We'll die before we get old.
The title is German; it literally translates to "world-pain".
Such power does a porchlight possess
That it lures a thousand insects
To fry in the dewy-white comfort of its glow
Where we see the mundanity of a helpful object
Moths see beckoning beams of moonlight
Like Icarus soaring too high at midnight
Perhaps God in all his alleged wisdom
Could never have imagined the horror wrought
By positive phototaxis and the electric lightbulb
Perhaps this whole **** world is the unintended
But deadly consequence of a God who could not
Predict the ways that lightbulbs and moonlight
Merge to Mock him.
Like a fly
To a lightbulb
Or a hand
To a burner
They said blacks came from monkeys but whites have monkey lips
If blacks came from monkeys wouldn’t blacks have monkey lips?
Many didn’t know that the first Statue of Liberty was black
Many didn’t know that the person who invented the lightbulb was black
The first civilization documented in history was black
Whites knew how powerful Africans were that’s why they enslaved blacks
I AM NOT RACIST
Master the art of
Flipping your L's (losses) into lessons
Because more often than not,
They are disguised blessings
If they sort of set you back
It's for you to bounce back
Like a catapult or slingshot (or Big Sean)
But never lose sight of your mission
The flying beautiful butterfly
Once crawled as a caterpillar
Think about the trees,
They never give up during the wintry days
They only shed their leaves
(For humans, drop the extra baggages)
But trees bounce back during spring
Sometimes, you just gotta
Take a deep breadth
And exhale peace
Ensure to keep breathing
And you'll sure get back on your feet
Calm the nerves,
Take a deep sleep
But don't sleep in the deep
You didn't fail
You only found ways that would not work
Credit to the man that invented the lightbulb
Take the blows but get back up
Very soon, the hardwork will pay off
Put in more work
And relent not
Naysayers will always talk
Don't be discouraged to put in work
Your success will soon prove them wrong
There is light at the end of the tunnel
As there is light within your spirit
Flick it on
And you'll be on a winning spree
Big Sean is a rapper, he made a song titled "Bounce back"
I say...I say
Rhode Island Red Rooster
Nothing is said
to be fancy
To paint oneself
colors like a wand
Wow have mercy
The world turns to dust
Lips like the
The dog's world in
To see oneself Wild West
The guns draw no mercy
at its best
Of love fury to test
the life we know is rough
Her skirt flows to
Please have mercy!
In her dreams, let us think
Well, what shows?
To love yourself
New leaf page oneself
You got the rage
The science of knowing
oneself not to be
Second shot but
once married Huh?
The object the next subject
Her dignity oneself on the
New wings Robin redbreast
The"Fort Myers Gulf"
Time can be a blessing
So why do we go down
on our knees
To be selfish to be or
not to be
But make a wish
Like the "Seven Fishes"
Roses secret hush
To say I love you
Many known spirits
Hard times to live it
Be in it the Lotto
You got to win it
The Wholesome sign logo
Oneself dream the Godliness
To wake up shades like
cascades eyes of oneself
So unexpectedly time
heals join the
Have mercy nothing beyond your fancy spinning in time but feeling the moment dizzy
i feel a strangeness set into me
like gelatine, liquified and shaking
you have the softest looking hair
and sometimes i want to comb
my fingers through it and never stop
that would be weird though.
let's not do that.
i feel a lightbulb make it's way down to my stomach
i've swallowed something sharp and bright-
maybe it was the leftover pieces of the smile
you gave me yesterday.
friends don't lie to friends. the truth is, i want to be the bestest of best friends with you.