"suicude" poems
Her name was Mad Violin
We had met at a bar
Where I was half past midnight at drunk
And she had spilt smoke
And smoked whisky
And I remember her talking
About suicide and music
And writing and art
I was halfway through a strange dream
And she was completely undressed
And we were ******* our way
Through the nightmares
Of hope and illusion
She stood there watching
Our bodies tangle and sweat
As she played the violin
And strangled the life out of me with its strings
I woke up stiff and hungover
In an empty bed
The dream still clawing at my back
Her ghost still playing
That ****** violin
It was in all the papers
And on the all the news
Another death
Another suicude
Another note with a name
And a goodbye
I didn't have to read
Or listen or watch
I already knew
Mad Violin
Wouldn't be playing again
She was gone
Gone...
Gone...
gone...
I wiped off a tear
Before it crawled out onto my face
And choked back a sob
And pretended to laugh
She got out of the lie
Out from under the strings
Burned her name and violin and stage
And set the whole world ablaze
No one noticed her before
But now everyone claimed
To know her name
And I couldn't actually remember
So I just called her Mad Violin
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 5:33 AM UTC
What did the world have to say
On this bright and clear mocking May day?
The day that physically mimicks 9/11.
Do you remember that fateful morning where so many went to heaven?
The plotters death was marked this very day
After it was announced that a group of SEALS took him away.
I'm not sure its a good thing to be happy of his demise.
I've been asking the same question all day...why?
I'll tell you why:
I remeber being a little girl standing by the TV,
Watching the planes and buildings on the screen.
One.
It seems to be some kinda accident..
Two.
Its a terrorist attack, isn't it?
I saw that 747 bank left and drive hard
Into the side of that building that blew out tiny shards
Of glass and fire raining from above,
Along with the paperwork and the terrorists love.
Shocked cries from the street and gasps filled the air
Manhattan was on display and the whole world stared.
Then awhile later at 9:03 a.m.,
The shock and horrid pictures were played over again.
As another Boeing flew through the side.
We were all wondering.."How many have died?"
Cries filled the air as one building
P
L
U
M
M
E
T
E
D
To the ground.
And the screach of hot metal was the only sound
Ashes and smoke hung over the city like plague,
Not letting us in on how many lives it had claimed.
I vividly remember watching people fall through the sky.
Not taking death by fire but instead...
Suicude...
Then we watched as another fell story by story.
And when the air finally cleared, there was nothing more to see.
T L E U B T H D E Y B A D
H I S R B E A A E R O S
E P O F B L T M V E D Y
Soon unearthed a cross and an American Flag.
This country became stronger with every tear that fell from her eye.
We soon set off into the hills of the desert with one mission: Osama dies
It may have taken 10 years but we found you hiding like a coward.
I hope you got the death you so rightly deserved.
Just remember: America is not perfect at all.
But we stood as one nation under god on that day in the fall.
This whole country rejoiced when the news was said,
Obama came on the screen and said "Osama is dead"
If you hit us first, we'll hit you harder.
We won't stop until we've finished what you've started.
May 15, 2011
May 15, 2011 at 8:11 PM UTC