"skatter" poems
For who am I, compared to you,
For you are a lion and I'm a mouse,
Living among lies in an abusive house,
I skitter and skatter until you pounce,
For there is nowhere to hide,
And none by my side,
I feel alone,
In this broken home,
Day by day I wish and pray.
But no one listens,
For what I have to say,
For that after all who am I compared to you,
For you are a lion and I'm a mouse.
Nov 16, 2015
Nov 16, 2015 at 6:12 AM UTC
min far har altid sagt at jeg skulle tage det sure med det søde
at jeg skulle nyde livet, og de morgner som er røde
dog så jeg kun natten sort, jeg så det hele galt
mit spørgsmål er, hvordan jeg kunne ende så fortabt og fatalt
ikke et barn, endnu ikk’ en voksen, døde øjne og coked op på lykkepiller
hvor længe lever jeg endnu
og fortæl mig, hvornår er det tågen forsvinder?
jeg prøver at ånde ud fra den røgsky jeg mig befinder
men det er bare som om jeg mangler en stifinder
kærlighed, siger de
kærlighed, håber vi
men idag er det penge og analsex
og selv de fattigste i DK har råd til et kompleks
vi er bundet på hænder og fødder
skatter og politi,
for de første ord vi snakker i dk er
egoisme og “pansersvin”
selvorienteret, disorienteret
vi er alle født så uendeligt privligeret
opvokset med en guldske i røven,
vi spiller alle så fandens civiliseret
-Cathrine Berendt
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 3:42 AM UTC
Ignight matches, ember flashes;
skatter ashes, synapse crashes.
shattered egos, falling seagulls;
escaped evils, louring reels.
when the past begins ignition,
animate my superstitions,
demonstrate simple submission.
after my final decision,
with unbelievable percision.
stay the course, on a mission;
the death of all know memory;
stems the voice to reach my ear;
the foolishness of men I see;
neon fantacy without fear.
the audacity of the dead blooming,
the understanding in darkness looming,
the screaming, flying, fading, fuming,
tendency to hate consuming.
spreading spores to distant shores,
apple cores and opened doors.
fleeing, fighting, never lying,
down apon this ancient ground;
**** this town, it's over now;
**** this town, let's end it now.
In the turn of pages and sheets,
the end is something that's bound to repeat.
Aug 15, 2010
Aug 15, 2010 at 11:12 AM UTC
Once upon a time there was baby trees
and one came to me
and said hes pleased
he shook my hand
and i took his leaf
I hid it and told him i gave it to Kieth
Kieth said "i have not such"
now the tree didn't believe me too much
so i told him "man you need to lighten up,
and take a drink right out of this cup."
he did just that then asked the pup
"have you seen my hand?"
dog said "thats not all you lost man."
so the tree thought "why do i give a ****
I'm going back to Amsterdam"
so i went with the tree and we went back
sat on his porch and smoked a fat sack
then we went down to a local crab shack
but as i was eating one tried to attack
so we left and wondered on down
the block where we were and i couldn't frown
because that tree right now is one hell of a clown
because he brought up the fact thats hes a talking baby tree
and as i began to see
it became funny to me
so funny i laughed until i needed to ***
i stopped and asked someone where the facilities were
they said "don't ask me, ask the tree sir"
so i busted up for a second time
then thought if hes real then to laugh wouldn't be kind
but three just stood there not seeming to mind
so i thought "maybe i should start on home"
i told the tree i was leaving tonight on a plane alone
he said "wait! no don't leave me be!
i mean look at me i'm a talking baby tree!"
so i thought not to hard and not too long
and then said "sure whats the worst that could go wrong?"
little did i know that he was strapped with a bomb
i told him not to use it and he said real calm,
"I'll do what i want you're not my mom."
i thought oh man its that kind of kid
who doesn't give a **** about what he does or did
and if hes that kind of child
his parents probably let him run rampid and wild
then i snapped out of it and said "what am i doing?
its a ******* talking baby tree!"
and since it doesn't have hands it only has leaves
i took it away the bomb that thing
but then i was accused of all the threating
so when i got home i thought **** it,
that ******* baby tree was raised in a bucket
so i found a place where i could then chuck it
it hit the water and made a big splash
i threw it in the lake where people skatter ash
then i went back to Amsterdam to steal that tree's stash
i smoked it all and then took all his cash
so happily ever after i live in peace
without that baby tree since now its deceased
unless it could swim then that would be beast.
Jul 21, 2010
Jul 21, 2010 at 8:16 PM UTC
I’m nothing but a **** tied to my vices
I’ve always been cataclysmic and narcissistic
Trying to silence my mind shut up and listen
To your melody calling and dragging away
The skitter skatter mind of man in me
I NEED WANT WON’T CAN’T STOP!
Hark! The Fallen Angel in me resides
Recalling the child that once was is not never will be again
Taken by the illusive beauty of realms unseen
Covering the trap I’m now ensnared by
The LOVE CRAVE LUST MUST STOP
You’re the strength in my veins to get through each day
Yet also the itch of a tick on the small of my back.
You show me the serenity of stratified sunset skies
Then clip my wings to keep me from flying away.
I LOVE CRAVE LUST MUST STOP
Like an undertaker digging the ditch,
For the former resident of this toil torn body.
I’ve hit the bottom yet keep sinking deeper,
Into a tomb so low I can no longer see the top.
I NEED WANT WON’T CAN’T STOP
Because I’m nothing but a **** tied to my vices.
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 3:22 AM UTC