sucks... (to be continued) add your shitty ass poetry
chadwick
Posts: 21,157
(tuesday, january 29, 2012.)
nights alone, tired
no sun promised tomorrow
same moonlight tonight as vacant as i
she sells honey
sweet gives it away
sweet gives it away
she sells honey
sweet gives it away
she sells honey
sweet gives it away
push away the same old sky
open new only for a few
what can i do
lord what can i do
nights alone, tired
no sun promised tomorrow
same moonlight tonight as vacant as i
she sells honey
sweet gives it away
sweet gives it away
she sells honey
sweet gives it away
she sells honey
sweet gives it away
push away the same old sky
open new only for a few
what can i do
lord what can i do
for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7
"Hear me, my chiefs!
I am tired; my heart is
sick and sad. From where
the sun stands I will fight
no more forever."
Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
"Hear me, my chiefs!
I am tired; my heart is
sick and sad. From where
the sun stands I will fight
no more forever."
Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
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i love writing. why a poet has words? why feel world winds in your very own inner tunnel? more importantly a struggle inside screaming & digging & gnawing & clawing, stinging me repeatedly with decades of torture right in my jugular directly flowing into my spinal cord & brain stem where there are trillions of impulses firing grinding me down to nothing as singers cry for me
birds fall to the ground
inside feathers lying about like mud puddles drying up in an african broiler that is the heat pits
sometimes blizzards take me off & blowing into completely different directional dreams
where running are the north-winds carried along by wooden long ships rowing with nautical star-belt chartings where near & years away fogs burn all our backs muscle bound or bone thin torn to bits by the great whip cracking through the air slicing silence as if razors where berserkers are kept alive for war, love, & fire
fire needs us to be set
fire needs us to be set
fire needs us to be nailed to crucifix
weld your entire arm into a crucible
metal gods of war will gather fruit
and place nectar & their seeds at your feet
fire needs us to be set
fire needs us to be set
fire needs us to be nailed to crucifix
weld your entire arm into a crucible
metal gods will gather fruit
and place nectar & their seeds at your feet
fire needs us to be set
fire needs us to be set
fire needs us to be nailed to crucifix
weld your entire arm into a crucible
metal gods will gather fruit
and place nectar & their seeds at your feet
the metal gods breed together with human beings thousands of years in the making the perfect goddess given as gift to brave men
eyes out sparkling suns are hers each one on flame her hair like the garden or sky at sunset or rise she as the mighty oak the forest at her feet rises up
fawn and deer play in her skin running jumping for her enjoyment she runs entire hillsides from one to another sometimes entire calendars fall to the earth and she has not blinked an eye but has flocked & herded as if winds are her youth the smell of tulip & burnt cedar from a promised land further away than my imagination could ever last
the magical grapevines up the sides of eastern & western clouds stationed as flagpoles the entryway to our castles each one stronger than the last her king sometimes my shadows remind me of battles blood spilt for her hand axed to death thousands for thorvald & his brother
we have set fires flames need us
we have set fires flames need us
we rose up
we stood
we swung
we drew red
we flew like sparrow
we dove like falcon feather through canyon
grand or minute
we dove screaming drinking our enemies’ boiling red from golden goblets
we have eaten their eyes
we have sold their flesh to wolves after ripped apart bone to dust for conguring
we have swam oceans for enjoyment
started cyclones for challenge
uplifted mountain ranges under each sea
and kissed all octopuses tongued out digging in & caressed by coral & barnacles
the sun king has invited us to stay
has invited us to breed
has invited us to love
invited us to war
invited us to shed blood like rivers do flow
invited us to spill dust boned crushed into bowls spread the land grown green brown at autumn
falling leaves collected by those who give a fuck
some rake
some burn brown yellow
some navigate as giant waves carry them deep and off
the golden thrones are always ready to accept one’s mighty axe and his beauty’s mystical charm
"Hear me, my chiefs!
I am tired; my heart is
sick and sad. From where
the sun stands I will fight
no more forever."
Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
Yes, I too feel this except for the " I love writing" part, not there yet, I love your writiing, thank you