"spyder" poems
Reaching back,
Back to that fork
In the road
Where irreversible consequence
Hid like angina
In a dunhill bubble
And you veered left,
Smitten by the decadence of mint
And mythical circles
Blown with liberal disdain
From a camel's ****
You followed the green line
Rippling like waves
Of vintage wine
Through gomorrah
Caution blown
As a midsummers gale
Between tarred lips,
Your ship sailed
The straits of cool
From bogart to newport
If dean only knew
Nat the king
Could still be singing
Nature boy on the square,
Live
He might have spurned his spyder
And lucky strikes
For a slice of life
Beyond 24
And you might have
Veered right
At that fork in the road,
Swapping scarred consequence,
Tarred lips,
And angina
For the whole pie
~ P
(#FromTheCamelsButt)
12/24/2014
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 10:04 PM UTC
They warned me
it was a death trap.
They told me
it would be my demise.
That Little *******
That beautiful,
yet powerful,
sleek, silver Spyder.
It was so ****
The rev of the engine.
The way it purred
as we sped along.
If only we were more
than just a glare along the highway.
The sun bouncing brilliantly
off the hood.
We would have won
so many races.
We were so fast.
Cruising down 466.
We would have been great,
the two of us:
‘The Little *******
and James Dean.’
Aug 10, 2011
Aug 10, 2011 at 11:53 AM UTC
in a cold room feeling real dark
in my element real far
most avoid monsters
i'm yelling; "where thee are"
in love with poetry that feeds the misfits
i cannot be near you
because if its the deadly things that scare you;
you should stay away from me.
please do not fall in love
don't attempt to save me too
i'd rather be lost, insane, out of my already fogged brain,
then found amongst the close minded crowd that think the same.
you think you're hurting my feelings but i'll just leave you to it
next thing you're hurting my feelings but you look **** when you do it
can't explain it,
you're unpredictable; unstable; unhealthy conscious.
imagine the damage in satisfaction.
you've been wandering around your mind
looking for answers; i've reached your check points
and i haven't found anything either
don't be afraid, i'm distant from myself too
it does not get better but you deal with it
finding comfort in pain, maybe
you're my one and only wanted fantasy that i've had the guts,
and urge to admit about.
lets take a ride on your spyder
and create memories which we both know will not be remembered
but i know you'd be cool with prepping the trigger for me
because giving me the power to destroy you isn't what scares you...
losing me
is what scares you
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 1:20 PM UTC
Dedicated to the current constructive political debate in the US
Why spyder phantoms
Does your film so choke me
On this cloudless night?
Is it the dust in my throat?
The longing in my head?
Or that door slowly closing behind her?
When the owls fly
The fantastic colors flow behind them.
Vermillions, arsenics, iridescent chromatics billowing
I tremble to follow
An anemic echo of their wings
All my green algaed
Freudian slips sprouting in a hundred greasy
Toilet bowls of the soul
Grow and nurture my endless
Turmoil of rotting emotions
And again comes the
Whirlwind
It speaks with the voices of dead cows
Rotting in the summer heat
Under the flat skies
Saying:
"Return to me my Anger!
Have I not hollowed the ****** hills
And trampled the fanatic iron snakes of doom?
Return again to me my anger!!
Sapphire mother
I welcome your longings
Your burdens
Your low moan at the sunrise
But there are none amoung us
Who love or trust you
You soft blue monster.
Selah
Mar 24, 2012
Mar 24, 2012 at 1:49 AM UTC
some fantasy poem that didnt go too well :
Adam n eve
the blue lagoon
boy n girl howling at the moon
back to where the story began
the story of woman
the story of man
the garden of eden
the forbidden fruit
the law of the island
the god of stone
the breath of life
the story untold
the universe within
ages pass forth
the serpent dances
twists and turns
the spyder weaves
around the earth
the queen is a fairy
the king is a slave
the throne is empty
who will sit ?
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 12:24 PM UTC
The treasure chest
Her ((Piece De Resistance))
French skills of perseverance
She was a hollow crown of jewels
Not the zircon bright yellow
The darker to see you my dear
near my pillow
That death by chocolate how
she craved those sweets
Graveyard shift current events
Those men dark Batman suits
water skiing and internet surfing
That bat eye batmobile showdown
missile
Cells and locks to open the
gate and keys
A hell of a wish never on
Sunday to ring her bell the Siren
She made their hair home
Sunday dark gravy
Lips were too thin and skully
Was a cycle her lowdown
Shot glass don't touch my Philly
So gravely razor suit and a shave
Her mouth Tornado
But the vivacious Viking
Crypt look hellhole
The gathering dead again
Santa dead pole
couldn't stop bickering
No-one cared to notice her
dreadlocks
"The Cryptocurrency"
what urgency
She was drawn into the
Arsenic and Lace
Viva Las Vegas roll the dice
Cryptic engraved cellar
Like the maestro was playing
his serenade
She-devil Pillar
catching her death of cold
Feeling high winding staircase
Wearing her gown ripped lowdown
Being blown off the town lace
Oh! Fiddlestick with the
***** of light
Breaking free from husbands sight
The rise of the current storms
heads up she drinks Grand
dead Marnier
Took over such a restraint
This wasn't black and gray
spray paint
What a fiercest most recent
ancient current events
Reptilian and it was the
family of witches and covens
Words engraved so cryptically
She was wearing her
snakeskin bag signature
The body of dead sea such rapture
The fire feet stepping over seashells
Takes the hell out of Sahara snakes
She got a backdraft
Black widow of waistlines
13 inches Spyder Graphics
Those shifters and heretics
He was the Rocky face
The shorelines those laugh-lines
Sad clown dark eyes scratched
The cat feline
Her addiction was the guylines
Crypt crooked cop fines
Another startup kit
The dark edgy women her
legs just fit
Jun 18, 2018
Jun 18, 2018 at 6:39 PM UTC