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"overfriendly" poems
He knows what lies below. This is where it all began: here Beneath the bubbling sludge and ******* mud. This is the home brew, the cocooning grounds. His sturdy boots trudge through, Hefting questions and glasses askew. Somewhere to the side a fat swamp prince Composes bog rhymes in ribbit meter. Each squelching step sets a buzzing bunch Of crystal dragons zipping away to Slick peridot pontoons. A loon swoons The expeditioner with a sobbing cry. He Has said goodbye to reservations, to the Long-dead preservation rights. He slogs through The buzzing night. Yellow daggers clench Between scaly steeltrap snappers and stones With eyes blink in languid surprise, unnoticed. He is lost, dying, unsure of his quest. He needs a Cure. He knows it lies here, in the beginning place. Their faces haunt his deathly guts and crush His straining heart with need - need for the solution. Need to survive, to prolong his life - alone! So alone: the last. If only he could rest. His nostrils quiver with the homesick stench Of tails becoming legs and nipping lips sprouting Sticky tongues. The answer, he is here for the Only answer. Something below, below, down In the dredges of history - in the slime of Centuries, rotless and preserved. He will find it: Some link, some closer thing he can revive And test and rest as bedrock for his life. A foot sticks in the overfriendly tar. No, He will not pause. He has come too far. In the birthing grime, some hungry memory wakes. It knows what lies above, it thirsts to cease it. It reaches, roils, pulls, rips with smelly squish-fingers - Thirsting and thirsting to slake. It longs to reveal To show, to make known to the traveler. (All he has searched for is found here, it knows, Organized and close. Held and safe below) It reaches, grabs - thirsty - presses him into A false step. A slip. A skritching clipboard Of statistics curses in rustling indignance As it flutters to the mud above a splattered head. Science-frozen lungs fill with dread - With life-giving peat. (It will show him) He ***** in And burbles out a scream. (what he wants, show him) This is where it begins, (this is his dream!) where it ends. Now he knows what lies below. He lies - curled - Quenched from growth. The eyes of unnoticed Stones blink in surprise. Soaring swamp lyrics Rise, a loon swoons with a sobbing cry. He curls in peace and drifts alone Now he knows what lies below.
0
Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 7:10 PM UTC
sleepy-sigh
In Peridot Above
He knows what lies below. This is where it all began: here Beneath the bubbling sludge and ******* mud. This is the home brew, the cocooning grounds. His sturdy boots trudge through, Hefting questions and glasses askew. Somewhere to the side a fat swamp prince Composes bog rhymes in ribbit meter. Each squelching step sets a buzzing bunch Of crystal dragons zipping away to Slick peridot pontoons. A loon swoons The expeditioner with a sobbing cry. He Has said goodbye to reservations, to the Long-dead preservation rights. He slogs through The buzzing night. Yellow daggers clench Between scaly steeltrap snappers and stones With eyes blink in languid surprise, unnoticed. He is lost, dying, unsure of his quest. He needs a Cure. He knows it lies here, in the beginning place. Their faces haunt his deathly guts and crush His straining heart with need - need for the solution. Need to survive, to prolong his life - alone! So alone: the last. If only he could rest. His nostrils quiver with the homesick stench Of tails becoming legs and nipping lips sprouting Sticky tongues. The answer, he is here for the Only answer. Something below, below, down In the dredges of history - in the slime of Centuries, rotless and preserved. He will find it: Some link, some closer thing he can revive And test and rest as bedrock for his life. A foot sticks in the overfriendly tar. No, He will not pause. He has come too far. In the birthing grime, some hungry memory wakes. It knows what lies above, it thirsts to cease it. It reaches, roils, pulls, rips with smelly squish-fingers - Thirsting and thirsting to slake. It longs to reveal To show, to make known to the traveler. (All he has searched for is found here, it knows, Organized and close. Held and safe below) It reaches, grabs - thirsty - presses him into A false step. A slip. A skritching clipboard Of statistics curses in rustling indignance As it flutters to the mud above a splattered head. Science-frozen lungs fill with dread - With life-giving peat. (It will show him) He ***** in And burbles out a scream. (what he wants, show him) This is where it begins, (this is his dream!) where it ends. Now he knows what lies below. He lies - curled - Quenched from growth. The eyes of unnoticed Stones blink in surprise. Soaring swamp lyrics Rise, a loon swoons with a sobbing cry. He curls in peace and drifts alone Now he knows what lies below.
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54
Normal day Gone awfully wrong in a second, but I’ll take a few minutes If there’s no torture, where’s the fun in it? Suppressed emotions Never learnt to let go, in a frenzy, satisfy what’s inside Enter your dark home and cut the phone lines Hush, baby, go to sleep Don’t even bother to scream as I pour Hydrochloric acid down your throat Final breath Twist your head, look me in the eyes When I slash the jugular, see the fear before he dies Where is my mind? I don’t control what I do, Father forgive me Save me from these demons so ugly Intense pleasure Didn’t think mad men had feelings? Offer your blood, still warm; to the master of otherworldly dealings Crawl slowly away You are not dead? Maybe missed my mark Watch my trusty axe as I massacre Noah’s tiny arc Grab my wrist While you push me away, your fingers go through Pleasurable pain, opens up last nights wounds Very bad luck My old red truck, you’d like to hitch? Day after tomorrow, they’ll find your limbs in that ditch Let’s play a game Here I come! Can you outrun bullets? Oops not too fast, better duck before I pull it I am sorry Rest in peace, don’t want to hurt, I have sinned But you must pay for my folly, because I didn’t I really am nice Why can’t you see? I’d tell you my tale But all you do is beg, plead and wail Girl next door Looks like my girlfriend, happy-go-lucky, overfriendly Here’s a lesson, don’t talk to strangers, I can be quite deadly High pitched scream Block out the noise, cut off source Skillfully crush your trachea, without much force I am a ghost Where do I sleep? What do I eat? Blood’s rich in proteins, maybe a kidney for a treat Life and death Do unto others before they do unto you Why don’t you just give up living and walk in my shoes?
0
Jun 12, 2010
Jun 12, 2010 at 1:27 AM UTC
ahnis-duit
Confessions of a Dangerous Mind
Normal day Gone awfully wrong in a second, but I’ll take a few minutes If there’s no torture, where’s the fun in it? Suppressed emotions Never learnt to let go, in a frenzy, satisfy what’s inside Enter your dark home and cut the phone lines Hush, baby, go to sleep Don’t even bother to scream as I pour Hydrochloric acid down your throat Final breath Twist your head, look me in the eyes When I slash the jugular, see the fear before he dies Where is my mind? I don’t control what I do, Father forgive me Save me from these demons so ugly Intense pleasure Didn’t think mad men had feelings? Offer your blood, still warm; to the master of otherworldly dealings Crawl slowly away You are not dead? Maybe missed my mark Watch my trusty axe as I massacre Noah’s tiny arc Grab my wrist While you push me away, your fingers go through Pleasurable pain, opens up last nights wounds Very bad luck My old red truck, you’d like to hitch? Day after tomorrow, they’ll find your limbs in that ditch Let’s play a game Here I come! Can you outrun bullets? Oops not too fast, better duck before I pull it I am sorry Rest in peace, don’t want to hurt, I have sinned But you must pay for my folly, because I didn’t I really am nice Why can’t you see? I’d tell you my tale But all you do is beg, plead and wail Girl next door Looks like my girlfriend, happy-go-lucky, overfriendly Here’s a lesson, don’t talk to strangers, I can be quite deadly High pitched scream Block out the noise, cut off source Skillfully crush your trachea, without much force I am a ghost Where do I sleep? What do I eat? Blood’s rich in proteins, maybe a kidney for a treat Life and death Do unto others before they do unto you Why don’t you just give up living and walk in my shoes?
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