?

Log in

 

Poetry Reading

About Recent Entries

Mirror Aug. 28th, 2015 @ 10:28 pm
crazygitar
I find you distasteful to look at,
and cannot bear the sound of your voice.
I would never have elected to be here
had I even been given a choice,
a choice of where I would like to be,
of who I would like to have been with.

You disgust me.

I know every little secret,
every filthy lie you have told,
and I am not above sharing it,
telling everyone you have known.
What made you think they would go away?
How did you expect to be normal?

You fill me with outrage.

There is nothing you could ever say,
nothing that could convince me that you,
you the pathetic, simpering fool,
are worth more than the dirt on my shoe.
Stop lying to yourself, like you do,
and accept that you don't belong here.

I pity you.

Do you think that you can prove me wrong?
I don't think so, and neither do you.
If you did, then you would be out there,
keeping a hold on what you can lose.
But you're not, you're just in here with me,
and I'm everything you deserve.

I hate you.

a silly poem Jul. 20th, 2015 @ 09:21 pm
goodforagalaxy
shiver for meCollapse )

ALL OF IT Jul. 17th, 2015 @ 10:12 pm
thepretendme
i want to be your man
catch you by the hand
roll in the sand
naked all day
crazy in love
forget where we are
lose track of the clock
feel your pulse beating
sweat in the light
run wild all night
swim in your water
dive deep into you
i want to live
fast as I can
hot as a pistol
tight as a wire
burn on the outside
rage on the inside
break every rule
defy every law
hear every note
i’m going to die
as high as a fly
in the blink of an eye
in a blaze of glory
be a shooting star
a shower of sparks
a fountain of gold
on fire and alive
if you come with me
we'll be Bonnie and Clyde
taking that ride
but if you stay
make sure to say
i went with a bang
no trace of a whimper

Rigor Mortis Jul. 12th, 2015 @ 08:36 pm
ohmyjeane

She was beautiful, like how the sky kissed the sea;
and how the sea embraced the sand.

She was beautiful like all the other things that were meant to be.

She was beautiful; perfectly imperfect.
Like the calluses on your fingers and the scratches on your skin.
They hurt a little, but somehow they felt different.
And different was good.

She was beautiful as she closed her eyes for the last time..
And there was I, slowly becoming a memory to such wonderful piece of creation.

Even her death was beautiful. Even her coldness was lovely.

No More Candy Man Jul. 8th, 2015 @ 06:59 pm
thepretendme
so that’s how it ends
not a bang, but a whimper

the logical conclusion
mutually agreed upon
coolly checking myself in
a day I never dreamt of

it’s a cold day in July
Cut for one instance of obscene languageCollapse )

love you forever

nineteen eighty 4 Jul. 8th, 2015 @ 02:46 pm
geovanizambrana
Will I see the end of this world
1984
Arnold and Willis and the rest
of the testosterone crowd
going their thing
big guns and bigger punches
bam
right on the kisser
yippee kai ay mother fucker
those broken faces and decapitated heads
bringing in the big bucks
mad is Max is mad
as Ripley screams maternal fury
towards some xenophobic roach
with sharp teeth and a bad attitude
a space punk rocker
eating brains to the timeless tunes
of the Sex Pistols zombies
or Metallica mosh pits
Ronald Ray Gun
Mick A Leo
Gore Ba Shove
is that a new dance?
I don't know
My mind is rattled addled
with base and crack and pot
luck sucks
these are the words of the day
just say know
do you no
that is
what's the time
Hammer time oh oh
40 ounce
malt liquor
broken glass
public enemy
that's me
Mr. Ballantine
green bottles line the wall
where the bricks once lay
but now I do
because
I'll be back.

Jul. 8th, 2015 @ 02:41 pm
geovanizambrana
Will I see the end of this world
1984
Arnold and Willis and the rest
of the testosterone crowd
going their thing
big guns and bigger punches
bam
right on the kisser
yippee kai ay mother fucker
those broken faces and decapitated heads
bringing in the big bucks
mad is Max is mad
as Ripley screams maternal fury
towards some xenophobic roach
with sharp teeth and a bad attitude
a space punk rocker
eating brains to the timeless tunes
of the Sex Pistols zombies
or Metallica mosh pits
Ronald Ray Gun
Mick A Leo
Gore Ba Shove
is that a new dance?
I don't know
My mind is rattled addled
with base and crack and pot
luck sucks
these are the words of the day
just say know
do you no
that is
what's the time
Hammer time oh oh
40 ounce
malt liquor
broken glass
public enemy
that's me
Mr. Ballantine
green bottles line the wall
where the bricks once lay
but now I do
because
I'll be back.

Jun. 1st, 2015 @ 10:44 pm
geovanizambrana
Dare you draw down the moon
within this mortal coil
we
perpetually dance within stardust
like bee's in the hive
we only exist
to sweeten the slumber
of God.
Current Location: The Matrix
Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative

May. 31st, 2015 @ 09:44 pm
geovanizambrana
She comes to me
in my sleep
in my vulnerability
whilst I dream the dreams
of the dead
she comes
with her fiery crown of flames
her fine porcelain skin
she has the sky for eyes
cloud soft lips
and she comes to me
a pinnacle of beauty
which I held so tight she slipped away
to return only
in my sleep
in my vulnerability
whilst I dream of the dead.

We've Been Doing This Bullshit for Three Years May. 12th, 2015 @ 07:59 pm
mypoorloverrr
You’re sleeping in my bed, pale skin parched with sun scabs.
We’ve been doing this for so long.
We keep taking back what was once ours and then hang it ,crumbled to dry
until the mildew sets in.

In the bathtub this afternoon, I had to ask why.
I had to touch my cheek to your open thigh and say:
why can’t you just stay, why can’t every month be March,
why them and not me,
why can’t we just melt like oil in the hot tub we made love in that June
while the sun rose over dirt roads? Do you remember how quiet that morning was?
Why do we fuck like lovers
and talk like best friends
and take lavenders baths with beer cans rimming the tub?

You give me “you are beautiful. You are smart as hell. You are everything I would want.”
But you don’t want me, and you can’t tell me why, or you won’t tell me, and I
know these plays by heart by now, so the pain gets duller
but there’s always a sting, like the wasps final breath.
While you sleep, I read your tattoos over and over again, like I’m going to forget them.
In the bathtub, we kiss like sixteen year olds and I wish there was someone there to take a picture of us.
But there isn’t. There is no one on our team. Not even you.
Top of Page Powered by LiveJournal.com