Oh peanut butter, oh peanut butter
Why must you cause my words to stutter?
When lacking jelly or toast with butter
I long to abandon you for another
And without milk, your flavor stutters
BlockThe words aren't coming
The flow has stopped
The spindle runs thin
The flowers cropped
The letters dropped
Hand on her chest
Wishing she wasn't
Entwined in this mess
The honored guest
To maritial ties
All too late
To bid her goodbyes
StructureI'm not a fan of structured poems, at least
When they're imposed on me, like subtle frames
Of written code which keep each line the same
The trapped voice a bird that yearns for release
Allow the flame to grow, please free the beast
Don't snuff the candle's fickle, frozen flame
Set meter and rhyming, you are to blame
Rendering my creativity deceased
But for you, I'll accept the forms you wish
Consume, swallow words with a grain of salt
My heart, wrapped in paper, I'll give to you
In a stanza, a line, or a swish
Of reason, confining words to a fault
Just don't think you're the only one who knew
Lucid - WIPI'm lying here on a table. Nothing but the sweet hum of machinery, both around and within me. They'd mentioned something beforehand about my hearing. Something about sensitivity that wouldn't hurt in higher decibel ranges.
My hand twitches to touch my new ear, but it remains limp by my side, paralyzed. I think they'd mentioned something about the risk of muscle atrophy in low-gravity environments. Something like that.
I'm hearing my heartbeat now. It's strange to hear such an organic sound in this sterile environment. If I cut myself, would I still bleed red? Or had they replaced my blood with a substitute? Was it still red, or another, foreign color?
With a slight click, a bright light switches itself on from overhead, illuminating the capillaries in my eyelids. Still red...
Squinting, I try to turn my head, but my neck won't obey me. As if reading my though
Ghost of the PastEver been haunted by a ghost of the past? You know, those recurring memories of a time long gone, the ones that float uninvited into your head? Maybe it's triggered by a memento, or a visit to a sacred place, or the mere mention of a name. The moment relives itself in your head, then disappears, leaving you with only a scrap of cloth or a pressed flower to remember.
But what if these ghosts aren't really ghosts at all? What if they're still living, breathing creatures? Maybe you never see them anymore. Maybe you live too far apart. Maybe you see each other on a daily basis, but you both pretend the other no longer exists. Maybe you're enemies, or even friends. Either way, you've both made an unspoken pact to never speak of the moment again. In a vain attempt to smother the memory alive, you flood it with fresh oxygen, fresh consciousness upon which it can feed.
Is it better this way?
PerfectionistsA writer in a group of artists
Is hardly a place to fit in
In a glance, one can admire a picture
But writing takes much longer to sink in
We've all learned our native language
But not all have picked up a pen
Yet sketching is somehow extraordinary
Simply because not everyone can
We can both stare at a vase for hours
Yet come up with an empty slate
And our details of realization
Rarely come sooner, but late
For despite our apparent differences
Our goal is the same: to learn
And only by way of practice
Can this mastery of skill be earned
LifewishA mourning dove hobbled across the road
And I wondered, "Why didn't it fly?"
Does the pleasure of crossing the pavement by foot
Outweigh the risks if it should die?
Maybe the bird remains ignorant
That a passing car could lead to his demise
Unsure of the dangers in the world of man
With no sense of fear in his eyes
Or perhaps he is simply cocky
As he struts across the road in pride
Knowing all vehicles will stop their procession
In order to let him pass by
But I, for one, think he enjoys it
In the way a human walks instead of drives
So the next time you see a bird walking
Maybe you should be the one he walks beside
ScrapVersion 2.0 is ready
The beta is complete
Its release date is tomorrow
And I've heard it will be l33t
This one's fully moddable
No need to deal with flaws
And it's piracy-protected
So you can't break the law
The calendar is built-in
You'll remember all your dates
And the autopilot feature
Will ensure you won't be late
It's compatible with everything
The computer, the tv, the phone
And it'll download all your contacts
So you'll never feel alone
But if you choose not to upgrade
You'll be alienated, at best
Your communication will be archaic
And your accuracy, second-guessed
This isn't really an option
Conform now, or be scrapped
Humanity is overrated
Believe me, the entire brain's been mapped
We've discovered all your problems
And fixed them, one by one
Even those pesky emotions
We've sparked the revolution
NephelaeToday is a sad day.
Why is the sun shining?
I thought the sky was supposed to reflect emotion
Like a heaven-mirror
Answering the prayers of the living
In the form of precipitation
Are the clouds our gods now?
They are notably absent
In this clear sky
An expanse filled with light
Llama thank you poemThank you very much for the llama,
He's calm and mellow without any drama.
Such a good natured fellow, he only spit once on my mama,
But that was because she tried to wash his pajamas.
Is this the end?Rain is lowering through my soul
The earth is crumbling beneath my feet
My courage has taken it's toll
I am soon under the call of defeat
I feel as if I am slowly fading
All my strength has left me
All this suffering and pain is degrading
Makes me regret as I float towards the sea
Is this now the end
The conclusion of the last chapter
Unable to try to amend
Or turn and face my captor
No, I can't let it end now
I must cross this bridge
No matter what, I will not bow
In order to get to my fridge.
Llama thank you poemOoh Ooh gots another llama
as a rule I hides him from Obama
Llama taxes are out through the roof
but if he's not here there is no proof
I had him stashed in my shop at work
but he was kicked out by my boss, stupid jerk
Now we wander through park and forest
but we're chased by llama police and we get no rest
Wandering along from house to house
I say "He doesn't eat much and he's quiet as a mouse"
But my nose is bruised from slamming doors
hiding this llama has turned in to a chore
He comes trotting up, wonder where he's been?
he looks at me his fuzzy face a big grin
Seems he won a national spitting contest
from a thousand entries his loogy was the best
Now its cash prizes, book signings and world tours
he's rich and famous now, living large for sure
Me, I was arrested while traveling through Texas
sentenced to prison for..........
The youth and the one legged knightMany are the stories told
by the hearth side on cold nights,
of the knights of this fine land
and their bravery and valiant fights.
But one such tale above the rest
will shock you to your core,
for one knight lost his leg one day
while hunting for a boar.
Now he was strong and he was feared
despite his peculiar condition,
And this confused one brash youth
who questioned the knights position.
So the youth came forth one fateful day
a challenge for to set
And he inquired of this one legged knight
why he'd not retired yet.
The knight did laugh, so deep and loud
at the simple inquisition.
Then he spake in a voice quite low
"I'll tell ye' if ye' listen"
And so the youth did thus agree
But the answer from the one legged knight
did anger and astound.
"You see, skill is not lost easily,
and I am still the best.
It seems that you doubt my ability.
Shall we put this to the test?"
Astounded by the proposition,
and feeling pity for the fool,
The youth said "It seems you've
Android-princess' dreamsI found this little alien —
Infused with thoughts ‘neath automation,
Though free of oughts of toyland nation…
Her wish is to be clothed in life
Of animation without strife,
Of painless sensitive traverse
With fellow humans of discourse,
With carbon units made to love
Appearance, function, purpose-glove…
— Silver Rajah of Sophiastan
10 bigass alley cats
bitches rolled up, each w gats
told them lil niggas to step back
unless you comin to get a tat
Tats are whack said the fattest cat.
whipped out ma tallywhacker
took his wife n slapder
said listen here u pussy nigga
ill make u shit
youll all need litter. You wanna be
my dog's next dinner? No i insist on dinner
Bring your wife, i will split her,
with all u niggers
She an orange tomcat? o she a ginger?
shit ma nigga didnt know u like dat spice!
her cat ass nice, dat tail be bushy
My niggaz cant wait to get in dat mushy,
fish bonin ha ass, 10 niggas, no class,
ill be her new pimp, she got pizazz fo an alley cat
she smilin, u mad?
Did u know dat pussy iz bad?
tell her lay off tha tuna, smellls like