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//i post sporadically at best
Pig Town
Living is deaths waiting room. Instead of crappy magazines you're given a book and a pen. Write a good fucking story.
Woonsocket
I post my own original poetry and share others that inspire me. Hope you can enjoy.
Poems
Zabava Jan 2014
on being a creep
Zabava
Jan 2014
there were things
i had never imagined
i would understand
be; experience
and gape bemusedly at my
unbelieving ambiguous eyes
in the unnoticeably clear
smiling mirror of the bathroom.
things such as
being a creep
the creep whose wandering eye
wanders just a wee bit longer.
A microsecond length of
the not-understood, the suspicious,the dubious
the curious sometimes,
but really mostly nefarious lunatic, perhaps...?
the creep whose teeth clench into a
smile.
the lips parting
but only
Mendaciously...perhaps..?
the creep who peers into me
like a god
scouring my precious little secrets
my hurt points,
my loci of scandalous innocuous things
meant to be inside of me
for my self.
the creep who infringes
on my warm bed
of Safety.
***
*******
erectile dysfunction
sneer
******
*****
me
father
mother
weirdity
all the complexes
that make you Feel
like a spider
whose web is shattered with
but an uncaring finger.
power.
Uncaring Callousness
terrifying in it's brutality
intent ,
and things beyond .
the creep peers in.
but i was only trying
to make friends.
a bit too hard , perhaps...?
oh the creeps of the world
i understand thy plight
the fact that you never understand
what you are
doing
but only after it has passed
that the black hole irises
of un-understanding visages
come to you
to inform you
that you have been
a creep, the Creep.
i had never imagined
i would understand
be; experience
and gape bemusedly at my
unbelieving ambiguous eyes
in the unnoticeably clear
smiling mirror of the bathroom.
things such as
being a creep
the creep whose wandering eye
wanders just a wee bit longer.
A microsecond length of
the not-understood, the suspicious,the dubious
the curious sometimes,
but really mostly nefarious lunatic, perhaps...?
the creep whose teeth clench into a
smile.
the lips parting
but only
Mendaciously...perhaps..?
the creep who peers into me
like a god
scouring my precious little secrets
my hurt points,
my loci of scandalous innocuous things
meant to be inside of me
for my self.
the creep who infringes
on my warm bed
of Safety.
***
*******
erectile dysfunction
sneer
******
*****
me
father
mother
weirdity
all the complexes
that make you Feel
like a spider
whose web is shattered with
but an uncaring finger.
power.
Uncaring Callousness
terrifying in it's brutality
intent ,
and things beyond .
the creep peers in.
but i was only trying
to make friends.
a bit too hard , perhaps...?
oh the creeps of the world
i understand thy plight
the fact that you never understand
what you are
doing
but only after it has passed
that the black hole irises
of un-understanding visages
come to you
to inform you
that you have been
a creep, the Creep.
a bit too Freudian ,I see.
now reads to me like an abuser's ode to self.
but i really was just talking about harmless staring.
now reads to me like an abuser's ode to self.
but i really was just talking about harmless staring.
Nathan Squiers Oct 2014
They Creep
Nathan Squiers
Oct 2014
In the walls and under the floors.
They creep.
Up the stairs and through the doors.
They creep.
In the forest or in the street.
They creep.
Padding along on silent feet.
They creep.
They’re the scourge of all dreams;
The source of all screams.
They flourish from our pain.
These terrible frights
That plague all our nights.
They’ll leave you completely insane.
They’re the thoughts that make you tick.
That make you fret;
That’s their trick.
They’re the scourge of all dreams;
The source of all screams.
They flourish from our pain.
These terrible frights,
That plague all our nights.
They’ve driven us insane.
They creep
They creep
They creep
They…
They creep.
Up the stairs and through the doors.
They creep.
In the forest or in the street.
They creep.
Padding along on silent feet.
They creep.
They’re the scourge of all dreams;
The source of all screams.
They flourish from our pain.
These terrible frights
That plague all our nights.
They’ll leave you completely insane.
They’re the thoughts that make you tick.
That make you fret;
That’s their trick.
They’re the scourge of all dreams;
The source of all screams.
They flourish from our pain.
These terrible frights,
That plague all our nights.
They’ve driven us insane.
They creep
They creep
They creep
They…
Another of the songs/lyrics I wrote for the first book of the Death Metal series.
moneysha
Jun 2017
Creeper
Oh thou! on whom i creep,
thou giveth me space and thou lets me weep.
when i spread my palm in mid air
thou provideth me space to creep
and then thou lets me grow and enter my sombre sleep.
i am a creeper but i was never taught to creep,
there was a calling i heard as a bud
and i knew the echo ran deep,
the voices screamt,''creep,creep, creep´
but i could hear the other flowers and bushes calling me their black sheep.
I had seen no creepers (who ever taught me how to) creep,
i was all alone in the vastness of the plant sheet
but i had decided that i had to stand tall and creep
so when i felt the wall next to me,
i opened my palms so i could start the long march before i fell asleep.
I crept, crept, crept, day in and day out
all around that wall, and,
when i reached the top,
yes the top!
i felt all lonely and lost.
But then came a bird bringing stories of other creepers who had followed their calling and who stretched and crept and crept, before they fell in to a deep sleep.
The bird promised that he will bring flowers from different creepers
and seeds to sow of baby creepers
who could learn to creep from me.
So the next few days, hours and months, there were all these tiny creepers who kept looking upto me
and awaiting advices on how to creep.
(After i read what i had written, i felt the book SEAGULL in the background echoing itself)
Oh thou! on whom i creep,
thou giveth me space and thou lets me weep.
when i spread my palm in mid air
thou provideth me space to creep
and then thou lets me grow and enter my sombre sleep.
i am a creeper but i was never taught to creep,
there was a calling i heard as a bud
and i knew the echo ran deep,
the voices screamt,''creep,creep, creep´
but i could hear the other flowers and bushes calling me their black sheep.
I had seen no creepers (who ever taught me how to) creep,
i was all alone in the vastness of the plant sheet
but i had decided that i had to stand tall and creep
so when i felt the wall next to me,
i opened my palms so i could start the long march before i fell asleep.
I crept, crept, crept, day in and day out
all around that wall, and,
when i reached the top,
yes the top!
i felt all lonely and lost.
But then came a bird bringing stories of other creepers who had followed their calling and who stretched and crept and crept, before they fell in to a deep sleep.
The bird promised that he will bring flowers from different creepers
and seeds to sow of baby creepers
who could learn to creep from me.
So the next few days, hours and months, there were all these tiny creepers who kept looking upto me
and awaiting advices on how to creep.
(After i read what i had written, i felt the book SEAGULL in the background echoing itself)
BRAVERY, BLACK SHEEP