"piranhas" poems
Black soot
Shrivelled up Cadbury
wrapper eyes
You were not my antidote
You turned a balanced
happy
friendly
spice 'n' all things nice girl
into a hermit with
bloodied fingers, a
self-destructive narcissist
(or did you just
coax her out of her shell)
well
I quit on you
the ****** is the **** spoon
your prose the lighter
your hips the dealer
my heart the coffin.
I cried
I cry
I will cry
Over your constellation swamps
Housing crocodiles
Water-borne diseases
and piranhas
I am naive;
I think my youth protects me.
My youth enslaves me.
Binds me in paper chains.
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 7:00 PM UTC
If we were together,
And you had been captured,
By a villainous turtle,
Who's name was bowser.
I'd come and save you.
Without any mushrooms.
I'd dodge the hot lava,
And jump over the flowers.
Forget the gold coins,
I'd run past them all.
I'd come find my princess,
Like on n64.
I'd swim through the water,
Past the piranhas.
I'd raid the castle.
And beat the boss battle.
'Cause Peach, There's no me,
Until I find you, And you're set free.
Because Peach,
I am coming. I won't stop running.
Til your in my arms.
Where you're always safe.
You can wear my red hat,
We can have a pet Yoshi.
Because Peach there's no me,
But I am comming back.
Mushroom kingdom will never be the same again.
On a grassy hill, in our giant palace,
I'm not scared of any ghosts.
My sites are set,
On the clouds in the sky,
And tower in the distance.
I'm not scared of any stones,
That will try to crush me,
I'm going to do my best,
To keep my timing.
'Cause Peach, There's no me,
Until I find you, And you're set free.
Because Peach,
I am coming. I won't stop running.
Til your in my arms.
Where you're always safe.
You can wear my red hat,
We can have a pet Yoshi.
Because Peach there's no me,
But I am comming back
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 9:39 AM UTC
You walked in
a pool of sharks
knowing where the good fish is
and the plankton floats
You were floating in
a great ocean of possibilities
some so foreign, your eyes dilated
some so familiar you felt elated
You slid next to great whales of knowledge
and shook the tentacles with wise octopi
with strands of experience
You got bitten by piranhas of isolation
and even bled internally from bumping shoulders
with beautiful heartless corals
Then one day you met a seashell and her friend
you marveled at the intricate art of nature
and became friends
this time you had the courage to knock
Not all hard exteriors
reflect tough
personalities
You just
had to
knock
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 8:36 AM UTC
No service to all westbound destinations due to flooding . . .
At Ravenscourt Park, it rained apocalyptically.
Then, God said:
‘Let go of point-to-point.
Paddle properly, like you mean it.
Hear the gentle song of the hummingbird.
Sip the sweet cup of the orchid.
Steer clear of the piranhas that are possessions;
Swim away from the caiman, who can drag you under.
Take it stroke by stroke. Do not splash about.
Go with my flow.
When your meanderings meet the mighty ocean of my love
Be ready.
This is just the beginning.’
Jul 15, 2021
Jul 15, 2021 at 5:28 PM UTC
Full of substance
Packed in a hard shell
As the heat of life
Is applied
The pressure builds
You start to expand
On the verge of breaking
Then all the sudden it grows dark
As people put a lid over you and forget about you
Then you pop and everyone crowds around you
Not to help but to eat you like piranhas
While they enjoy the entertainment
Mar 30, 2011
Mar 30, 2011 at 8:23 PM UTC
Full of substance
Packed in a hard shell
As the heat of life
Is applied
The pressure builds
You start to expand
On the verge of breaking
Then all the sudden it grows dark
As people put a lid over you and forget about you
Then you pop and everyone crowds around you
But not to help but to eat you like piranhas
While they enjoy the entertainment
Jul 6, 2010
Jul 6, 2010 at 4:16 PM UTC
Imagination Piranhas
I walk down the street trying to analyze what I see
Two trees in the shadow connected by a power line
A duplex, abandoned, dark and silent
Simple objects that line my path and hold some story
Some deeper truth ready to be unraveled
I try to decipher this meaning
To look passed the tangible exterior
Beyond the cells and through the atoms
For some soul or sentence
Some lost ghost ready to tell a tale
But I can’t
The story is muffled and the meaning is lost
Through the trees, beyond the worn down duplex
I see only more darkness
My senses have been dulled
Overshadowed by a vermin
A sinister parasite consuming the world around me
The imagination piranhas
Callous and cold creatures
They linger in the darkness and drift through the air
Like a cancer they grow, feeding upon the beauty of the world
Made of mortar and brick that house our civilization
They dwell in the steel and noxious fumes of industrial growth
Polluting ears with their diesel engine roar
Corrupting the space between nature and thought
The imagination piranhas
Dominating the atmosphere
Hindering analysis of the universe
With bright lights that blind the story in the darkness
Their shouts and electronic noise drown out the true song
A quiet song
The imagination piranhas…
Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 12:12 AM UTC
There
Is
A
Fly in my drink
And I'm starting to think
That my luck's on the brink
Ever since you told me
That one half of the bed
Seemed a bit more cozy
I soon realize
That I'm not drinking anything
And the poor old fly
Is drowning
In my
Pity party
My gloom made it nauseous
I've become so obnoxious
Since you ****** the life right out of me
I
Hope
You
Choke on the words you said
And the shallow waters that you tread
Are infested with piranhas
That's how it goes if you're not gonna
Live in the presence
Of someone
As holy as me...
I
Tell
The
Leeches hovering around me
That I badmouth you
Just to give Revenge a smile on her face
But here's the simple fact:
Your departure wasn't that bad
It's just that you hurt me
For Christ's sake, you hurt me
I can't believe you hurt me
Can someone stop this hurting?
There
Was
A
Fly in my drink
When I started to wonder
If this entire thing was starting to go under...
Jun 24, 2010
Jun 24, 2010 at 5:01 PM UTC
Do you feel your knee deep in the river of doubt
Where the current is swift and the piranhas hang out
If you don't know what I mean or what I'm talking about
Hang on to your wallet cause your soon to find out
This mean old world can be bitter at best
It'll grind you up, spit you out, then use you to clean up the mess
Believe we've been here before so don't expect any less
How much more can we take is anyone's guess
We have the lawyers, judges, politicians, with the jury still out
Telling us they know what's best for us and like it or not we're going to find out
Up to our necks now in that river of doubt
Anymore from anyone of them and I think that we'll drown
There is the group on the left and the group on the right
Thinking the other sides wrong and their willing to fight
One side brought guns and the other side knives
Was that Miss Liberty I just saw waving bye, bye
The sides are to steep on the riverbank we are in
We all just might drown cause we haven't learned how to swim
In the tank with the sharks, also known as the politicians
No one to lend us a hand with nothing more there to lend
That's the way it now is from beginning to end
Where we're soon to break cause we no longer can bend
Let's just throw them all out and start all over again
Before it's to late my friends and we do ourselves in
Feb 9, 2014
Feb 9, 2014 at 7:50 AM UTC
Like human drones,
They trailed the messiah
From Frisco to Guyana,
In search of Eden
Among anacondas, tapirs,
Diminutive Wai Wais,
And Purple-heart giants....
Where torrential rain
Blasted the ****** soil
Like B-24 bombers
Over Normandy...
And piranhas
Shredded human flesh
To naked bone
In black-water creeks
Coursing through the Amazon...
And a fledging nation
Of less than 1 million
Navigated the treacherous canefields
Of independence...
Why....?
The question lingers
Like maggots on
900 rotting corpses...
Why....?
The answers wither
Like 900 minds mesmerized
By Jim the messiah...
Forfeiting lavish luxuries of freedom
For the Temple's tickets
To a worry-free ride...
To Heaven.
~ Pablo
(#JimTheMessiah)
3/1/2014
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 9:51 AM UTC
I think about you every single day still.
even though it's been over a year since my heart was ripped out, I still wish it would be you to stitch it back together.
I don't want some guy who's name I don't even know stitching it back together after I've drank so much my head spins, but that's normally how it goes.
a new boy told me he liked me today and since he smelled like you I almost kissed him.
but if I would have kissed him, his lips wouldn't mold to mine like yours so willingly did.
sometimes I can swear I can still feel your fingertips tracing my thighs.
my fingers still aren't very sure how to grasp things because they still want it to be you I'm grasping, not the toilet bowl I'm throwing up into after a night of drowning my sorrows in *****
my thoughts still echo your name, but I can't tell whether it's from me missing you so dearly, or from me wanting to strangle you for cracking me in half.
I think about how we knocked the pictures off the wall when I pushed you into it with lust, and then we laughed so hard that we ruined the moment so beautifully.
sometimes I think I can hear your voice in the blanket you gave me after I told you I couldn't sleep without your arms around me, which then causes me to start weeping and shout your name into it which somehow still smells like you.
I've washed my hair over 300 times, but I still can't seem to get it to go back to the way it was so now it's still as tangly as it was that Saturday morning, and still smells like your pillow and cologne.
the butterflies in my stomach turn into piranhas whenever I see you, and they rip apart my insides and it leaves me bleeding for days.
I still think about that one time when I woke you up at 2 am when I called you sobbing, and you picked me up and we drove for three hours because you thought I'd rip my veins out even though I'd been so good for so long.
my dad asked me if I wanted him to paint over the writing on my wall from when we'd been together for a year and you wrote that you'd love me forever, but I told him no because it's all I really have left of you anymore.
you grew daisies in my heart and watered them with your kisses and love, but now there's just dust left from the tornado that ran across my insides the night you left me.
I remember when you told me it was over and I collapsed on the sidewalk where we had out first kiss, and I screamed at the moon swearing I was going to die that night.
I told myself I was going to close my heart and close the box of butterflies so my love for you would die.
I closed it. there is no more heart. and there are no more butterflies.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC
when I go
I will pull the shades down
fill the moat
with the requisite
piranhas
I will put on my
Alone
stare
and cup our little
glowing moth
in my palm
and whisper
to it
whenever
I'm sad.
May 2, 2012
May 2, 2012 at 4:57 PM UTC
Loneliness; 1,000 piranhas eating
You inside out.
The deepest, darkest waters are
Within us.
Loneliness,
Is to drown and be eaten alive,
All at once.
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 4:16 PM UTC
Vultures, piranhas.
Every thought, every word, every action.
Attack, attack, attack.
Biting, clawing.
Pain, blood, half dead.
Misunderstood, misunderstanding, mistaken, misheard, misread.
Mistake.
Loathing, hatred.
Every thought, every word, every action.
You. Me. Unknown.
I am sorry.
Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 10:05 PM UTC
Frozen above the sweaty masses a fleshy ocean, he’s the dive bomber.
His out reached hands marked with the black x’s, The D.C. kids clawing at the human Stuka.
He has unhinged himself from the crowd. untethered
from the pale white fingers of the misunderstood youth that would pull him back in.
The hungry human piranhas trying to ****** a piece of his flesh.
Now, where only music can reach him.
The off tempo cymbal crash and the four power chords furiously strummed
on a broken five string guitar,
the mad crowd shouts in tongues. Spit and sweat sprinkle his face like an ocean mist.
A vivid reminder of the human meat grind below.
His arms outstretched like a bird of prey ready for the ****
the wings of Icarus over the blacked out
eyes of the faces below.
However in this instance he is at the apex,
he is captured in a quick second snapshot,
Suspend in the void behind him like a black flag
Waving and violently vibrating with the music behind it.
He is the stage diver,
Voyager before the malfunction,
Icarus before the sun.
Jun 14, 2010
Jun 14, 2010 at 5:06 PM UTC
Creativity (Midnight Freewrite)
Once upon a time, my mind was blank.
Could I finally be sane
from the feelings ingrained in my so often flooded mind?
This ocean pushes the small grains of sand as though keeping
them all at one place,
the inability to crawl back to where they once were.
Accompanied by many,
yet purified throughout the constant washing due
to clashing of waves.
The stubborn rocks give in,
once enormous,
they've become wearisome from being pummeled over and over by the ruthless ripples,
eating away mercilessly like piranhas.
The rocks begin to deteriorate like my wretched nightmares,
as if it was inevitable for them to reciprocate this way.
I think to myself
Could I for once create something beautiful without the taint
of distortion my pessimistic perspective brings upon my cursed
brain?
Or is the lust after such a wicked dream be looked down
upon by my insides which take control of me?
Perhaps one should blame his imaginations
for considering such a change.
Imaginations which were once banished.
Ones leading to joy and happiness,
when one was once optimistic to the sun and the trees,
the butterflies in his stomach that
cause him to day dream.
The butterflies which took him away from the struggles, and constant agony.
The one that drove him away from the thoughts
of his uncles,
and made him believe they would be there as he woke.
The kind of imagination that
One must pinch himself to see if he's awake.
But why do I feel?
I once had the power to dream,
To think such miracles were real.
I dared to think there was such a thing.
My creativity got the best of me.
Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 4:43 AM UTC
What am I afraid of?
Here is some sort of list,
I'm afraid of snakes, bugs, bats, birds, and nearly anything that can fly!
Those aren't the only things I'm afraid of that are also alive though.
I'm afraid of horses, piranhas, elephants and heights
Pregnancy, loud noises, hospitals and walking outside alone at night.
I could probably go on and on with this list because fear is somewhat infinite and I will
I'm afraid of loud noises, being left behind and the germs of childhood friends and others who could've smothered them on my pillow from drooling at night
I'm afraid of school, females, males, and people in general. Failing. Falling. Drowning and death. Who knew there could be so many things haunting me?
**** Bridges that are taller than me, being lied to, aging, and foods that are too spicy.. It may sound childish, just stay away from me if you're eating spicy calamari..
Did you think I was done? Because I've only just begun..
I'm afraid of situations, such as when people distance themselves from me too quickly. It ties into my fear of being left behind,
Don't abandon me.
I'm afraid of my mom, needles, parties and more it's mostly because of past experience, but I'll leave out the gore..
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 5:16 AM UTC
The only girl who's
ever seen me
is locked away in
a tower
miles above the ground
high up in the clouds
She's closer to the sun
than she is to me
there are flames the lick
the ancient bricks
and all around- a moat
filled with piranhas
and sharks
and poison
I built a ladder to the sky
but lightning struck me down
I built a helicopter I could fly
but the blades wouldn't spin around
I thought I'd try
to sneak inside
but was chased out by a troll
he warned me,
"if you try again,
your life will be the toll."
Sometimes, when the night is silent,
I can hear her soft, sweet cries
and I howl up to the merciless stars
and spell my grim goodbyes
for I am gone
I've disappeared
from so long not being seen
I've been invisible
just enough time
my life may have been a dream...
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 10:06 PM UTC
Denying words their right and might
this was cryptically conveyed to us:
a death plan is being perfected,
the need of the dark hour, for sure!
This extending nightmare we are in
a darkly crafted metaphor, threatening!
Never forget, one is nothing more than
an unflinching core member of the clan,
standing daggers drawn, waiting the turn
taken a blood oath of utmost submission.
A 'death plan' sounds sinister,you think?
it's intended, remember as you advance.
The piranhas are the hungriest,
at this time of the year
the climate changes sharpen their fangs,
for a killer smile, the vengeance of nature!
Beware the nature is aware of all shenanigans,
the swim against the flow can go on no more.
Looking for an omen, the dark sun rising
with an accusing finger pointing at you?
At this pirrana hour, let go such thoughts
there won't be such niceties,no embellishments.
Fight your bitter water wars, with neighbors,
in this twilight fast engulfed by a dark night.
Repent for slipping from the ladder of thought,
leading to the pinnacle of the tallest pyramid,
while the rot spreads, when y'all lie, relentlessly
steal or **** to stamp one's victory over the other.
Nov 12, 2016
Nov 12, 2016 at 1:20 PM UTC
The L.O.Z.,
The place to be,
The party town of Missouri,
Is what I call home.
The hills of the Ozarks
House every known allergen, as
Well as families that are cooking
Something to be paranoid about.
This man made body of
Water holds the rumors of
Dead bodies and piranhas
That parents tell as wives tales.
The forever changing lanes
Of highway will lead you
To the same place; once
You're here, you'll never leave.
The rolling landscape is covered
In litter and overgrown weeds.
Crosses from car wreck casualties
Line the roads like misplaced bones.
Everyone that isn't from here
Thinks that this is paradise.
Everyone that lives here
Calls it the State of Misery.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 11:54 PM UTC
You can languish here
in cyberspace's vastness
for all I care
I don't give a ****
if no one visits you or if they do;
if they gawk at you and shake
their heads and sneer and spit at you
or how many clicks and likes you get
and all that analytics and trending-now stuff
Look here, you vain self-centered Poems -
you've taken enough life out of me
coming at unexpected times
like malevolent spirits
hungry ghosts
like piranhas in feeding frenzy
and being so demanding
and wanting me, wanting, wanting
change me, change me
edit, edit, edit
Like some vain teenage girl on her first date
demanding the whole family
dress her for but an evening's glory
(or lifetime shame, who knows?)
I'm done and you're out
and it's your life out there, for all I care
If you have brains you'll get admirers
if you are spiritless, you'll get the flick
*You know, it was easier bringing up children
than bringing you to life and looking after you*
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 7:57 AM UTC
The sun is dark again,
a dull hole in a burning sky.
The world is an old black lung,
choking and drowning in itself.
One long gasp and it is over.
I take her hand and dance,
waltz right into the breach,
earth torn asunder,
open chasm swaying,
as if a jaw dislocated.
She said it was the rapture.
The masses drew blood.
A school of piranhas.
A cannibal's carnival.
Are you the hero?
Take your gun out of my mouth,
it's ruining my appetite.
(It's dripping from my chin.)
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 8:44 PM UTC
I wake up as She
and she's auditioning soon;
vying for a part no one can play
but everyone auditions for anyway.
And so we all sit in those
steel foldable chairs that never
get folded back into their original
form, because the bodies always
keep them warm.
The original selves
long for something else to be;
troubled souls in search for
broken homes; like the hidden
shadows of the known unknown.
I am her lips as they
part, close together
like the jaws of a shark,
reciting lines back to the director
crooked and parallel, aligned
waves of soft sounds; they reach
the peaks of receptacle body language
only to suddenly fall back down
barely scathing the director's emotions.
The director sees that there is talent
that lies within the woman;
I am her, and I was
a father of three darling daughters
not too long ago...
But I stand before the director
as her, and there are others
patiently waiting,
like the anchored piranhas
of the binary forest,
the Stygian vultures
of the neon desert;
and they vouch for
each other's safety
until they have landed
the Oscar award winning
scene; the all white cast
beams like the headlights
of an oncoming car.
Their hands free of guilt
washing the darkness away
from my rising star, my ship
no longer corroded brown
but assimilated, organized,
gentrified;
a man redesigned,
retrofitted and recombined
standing before the petrified
live audience as Her
in an ocean blue
dress;
a blood capsule
ready to burst with
finite increments
of happiness.
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 2:37 AM UTC
Such a gentle thing,
Wrapped up in a sheltered fortress.
I want to bust my way through your walls,
But I'd rather you'd let the gate fall down.
So I could walk on through,
And love you like we used to.
These walls covered in tapestries of memories,
Thoughts and opaque opportunities.
I want to create you a window, a stained glass world.
It would never fade,
Or fall apart.
This castle is yours,
You built it from the ground up.
Stone walls and a vision of what you wanted,
You built something strong.
With passages leading in, but a moat to keep others out.
You put piranhas in your pit, to devour all those you didn't care for.
I managed to get past once,
Twice,
Now I'm asking for one more chance.
Let down your drawbridge,
Let's make a new addition.
We'll make a dungeon for the sins,
And a treasure room for the memories.
We'll have a prince,
And a princess.
There'll be a dragon in the keep, and a phoenix in the study.
We'll have a modern medieval life,
With all the jesters, peddlers and jousting.
You can be a queen,
And I'll be your king.
I'll build us thrones in the foyer,
And a grand hall in your heart.
No room shall be locked,
No secrets kept hidden.
Now I'm waiting outside,
Singing you a lullaby.
I'm throwing stones,
And wearing a mask to the ball.
I'll be your modern time Romeo, just for you, my Juliet.
Mitchell S. Bartlett
Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 12:48 PM UTC