Poetry for the long and lustful...

I was at the Univeristy of Wisconsin at Madison Student Union (having a drink) today and was fasinated for several hours watching all the "boys" play chess. This is the simple poem I wrote while silently watching them play...

Presence is Art

Art is Beauty

Beauty is Human

What poems have YOU written recently or are your favorites to share with us all?
Original Post
ah, what the hell.

No Sense, or Five Ways to Die

Looked up to you to see
You'd never even scowl at me
Drifted in sometimes to smell
You couldn't spare a sneeze to sell

gave it up cooked bleu
i swore i caught your eye
all i wanted, only you
i miss that hole, your sky

Straining hard to learn to hear
You'd only listen for my fear
Licked your window trying to get a taste
You spat like I was poison-laced

you never lock your door
invite me in to your disdain
said i needed to be more
coarser than dirt and wetter than rain

Reach for your skin to see how it feels
You always pull back like a sunburn peels

What more can I possibly do?
You'd merely laugh at me if I hit you
Yet still I'm enthralled the whole way through
How can this be, I haven't a clue

I can taste what you hear
You don't smell like I feel
No touching you dear
Wasn't part of the deal


Smoking makes you cooler - His Majesty's Image Consultant
Can't dig the itch out from under my skin
Can't smoke the hive out that's crawling within
everyday now for years with no hope for an end
to the ways that i think about how to pretend
Can't cast off the stone that will set myself free
Can't put out the fire that burns within me
denied of your touch, unloved left to fend
swallowing truth just to act like a friend

I want so much more I want you as before
I want to be shipwrecked apart on you shore
just once won't you roar that it's me you adore
truly see in my stare my unsaid semaphor

Can't sate this hunger that keeps me so thin
Can't stop the urges that drive me to sin
my sanity shakes every time you descend
your face in my dreams i've no way to defend
Can't cure the blindness that dares me to see
Can't stand as the man that you want me to be
you live as a jungle my mind cannot tend
bareing fruit of denial on which i depend

Wasted dissolving suicidal revolving
Obsessing and loving it all as i bleed
Delusions evolving self-destructively solving
Logic served dead for emotions to feed

Smoking makes you cooler - His Majesty's Image Consultant
Lime green and
Candy colored
Jet strip girl
Six feet tall with
Her head in the clouds
All satin tanned cream
With glistening pink
On acrylic heels
In silver skinned
Iridescent and
Air conditioned comfort
A flower powered
Platinum blonde bombshell
Fully loaded and
Ready for take off
Clear the runway
God and country

Angelic intervention or U.F.O invention,
the need to have a scapegoat makes us blind.
Autohypnotic state, a deep rooted belief in fate,
why do you need a motive or a god?
Human nature assumption belies naked aggression.
That's all there is to know, it's figured out.
Legitimizing violence through T.V shows and war,
the only thing we've learned is that we're right.
How can it be, that this is all I've seen
after twenty seven years upon this rock?
No one understands. The government, the man
only needs us so that we may shop.
Oil prices rise, so we bomb the little guys.
Were you behind the giant desert storm?

I have no faith, in god or the state.
I need to see it all crumble down.


Ritualistic obsession,
cursed humanity.
Perpetual transgression,
throughout eternity.
Infinate agression,
dwarfed by lunacy.
Of man I have one question;
"Will you not be free?"

Like clockwork

The fact that we're equiped with the equipment
to hear sounds and navigate terrain,
Provides us with an insight to the function
of the meaning and the purpose of our brain.

Actions lead to actions and reactions.
The cycle never breaks, it just mutates.
So join us in our play of light refractions,
join us and we'll see what we can take.

Planetary changes lead to chaos,
and cities rise and fall within the wake.
Man has done his best to tame his master,
and that could be our single worst mistake.

Clockwork me,
Mechanistic we
move mountains to the sea
with our machinery
theres nothing left to see.

Collective parasite
Know that we are right
solve it with a fight
flex collective might
no one left to fight.

"C" the speed of light within a vacuum
"E" the energy and "M" for mass
equate the greatest thought of generations
made into a weapon used too fast.

Einstien never knew what he'd invented.
He never saw the horror or the pain.
Atomic things might very well have saved us
from slowly driving everyone insane.

But now it's mutually assured destruction.
Looming overhead the tempest waits.
The time it would take us to disarm them,
leads eventually to our fate.

Red Face
The throbbing days
Aching and yearning
The quest of life, the eternal burning
The black eyes
The naked cries thrown in shadows
To see in blissful eyes, to render life.
In colours of your hearths desire

In utter despair like Sisophos struggle
To lay in clay and scattered rubble
Days filled with sunshine
To paint the window of my dreams in black.
Outside the bying and selling
Inside in agony dwelling.

A diamond star
And my fingers bled.
Cruising for wall hangers,
I am waylaid by multicolored guitar gadgets
of infinite variety.
Combination plectrum/can opener
for the musician on the go
with time only for cooking
or playing,
but not both.
Straps woven of the hair
of genocide's victims
and imprinted with eye-catching
graphics of skulls and knives.
Amplifier heads,
3000 watts of class A tube power
in iMac blueberry,
shake apart, crack
and crumble as
victims of their own decibels.
Brand-new, Custom Shop, Vintage Repro,
Relic Special Edition Les Paul Uber-Deluxe Customs
in artificially-aged, unplayable condition
with factory-broken and factory-repaired headstocks,
only $9399.99, six months same as cash,
a deal too vapid to pass up.
Never before has so much been done
to so little effect.

That's a lie, but I said it with a smile -- John Roderick
Its absence like missing letters in encrypted code, or a dead language keeps me thinking that maybe this isnt the way to go about this with you like maybe i should take care like cleaning an old painting but this isn't exactly science and one can't always predict so I wing it and you on the wing and out and gone and I alone and tied to this chair like some prisoner or hostage and your face and your smell and your taste and your hair and that smile that lies over everything I see in you-tinted glasses that make the world stand in stark contrast to us all like a Norman Rockwell painting and you, the lady in the red dress that pulls our eyes to focus...but now, gone for hours like days into nights and the stars are dim, though you will return this hurts like I know it should because one day you wont

So I sit in melancholy silence face pressed to pages and fingers furiously tap-p-p-p-p-p-ing on the keys in a flurry I don't think I'll use thespell checker or stop to see if I have used pun.tu;a'tion at all because it doesn't flow like this...noticing autocorrect wish they had that for my timing and now I realise that distance is only time and you could be anytime any distance and I could reach you, will reach you, will always and forever be reaching and running and hunting and trying to find that lost scent of you that still hangs in my nose like a phantom limb pulsing and itching and singing sad songs to break my heart

Your face-more perfect every time I see it, lost in the crowd, rising above it, standing in front of me face pressed to my chest and squeezing as though I rescued you from something though I fear I have created a larger danger and what may I do with my secrets that follow behind me dogging me and sneaking through shadows like a tail in a bad dectective movie. I see I hear I smell and I feel all that is you but I fear for what I may do what the hell are you? Such singular beauty as to be unnatural but yet this desolate angel floats toward me almost nightly, touches my heart as though these walls weren't here and the stars are pulsing and they are singing wordless and silent but the planets, o the planets! they shine without blinking and I want you without thinking because emotion this deep has instinct

Dimlight nightime and near drunk with tired but cannot sleep and cannot stop looking at the shadows caught in your hair, your neck, your shoulders...prefect in form and in a void because I feel the absence before it occurs like im an emotional prescient afraid to move because you sleep but wanting to crush you inside me and keep you forever and ever and ever and ever and always these noises as you sleep (soft murmur, tiny squeaks, petite snores) float above me like lights and I float softly and easily under you over you through you and leave with the dust of you on my clothes in m,y hair. Stupid sun rises and crushes time spent with you in watchful waking and wonderment of all that is you sun blinds to dream and suspension of belief and here I stand wanting to grab you and run like a small time hood with a handful of cash which is beneath you, perfect priceless creature that you are you, and always and again, you

"Sometimes nothin' can be a real cool hand." - Cool Hand Luke
Universal dawn
alliance of the moons
cycling eternal lackadaisical bliss.
We are here,
witnesses to passing,
soon to pass with it.
Deserts blowing across time across space.
Cosmic debris
reforming into mountains,
mountains blown away
back into deserts.
All of it periodically
washed by the oceans.
Floors of the deepest unreachable seas
laid bare to finally grow,
reaching up for the sun,
reaching for life.
Seashells in the alps.
Mass matter exodus.
New continents trying to erase
evidence of a previous state.
Polar shifts in hyperspeed cause
million mile an hour winds to
run rampant over the planet's face.
Highspeed weather cloaking a resurfacing,
planetary transcendence.
New geology in weeks,
days, seconds.
Carbon-based life reset to zero.
Bloom again delicate entities.

To witness these events,
to be unimaginably humbled,
radically inspired
challenges thinking
as we don't know it,
cannot conceptualize at all.
In how many other lives have I
kissed another's flesh,
drank another's sorrow?
Been enthralled by a partner's trace elements,
bled into the earth
or exhaled a final breath to be
carried undetected into the jetstream.
Oh, to be incorporreal,
unbound by physicalities.
An ungrounded consciousness
feeling the forces of creation pass through the self
like a lover's breath on the nape of the neck.
Like a caress upon gooseflesh,
irregular bloodflow
stimulated by a murmer or a sigh, a shift
for a more comfortable mold
with a warm body.
The irony of such primitive bodies,
unable to sustain
a prolonged period of soul-staggering joy
due to unwanted interruptions
for fuel and waste disposal.
So many parts all jealous for attention.
I'm jaded with the curde of
being a slave to human variables.

Chance discoveries leading us forever,
unwilling to let us linger
or absolve.
Unmerciful in letting us decide any finality
to overstimulation.
Dynamic cause and effect evershifting.
Cruel beyond comment.
The nature of awareness twisting knives of need,
whips of unchosen station.
Bound with chains of morality.

To be a wind and
pick up the particles of existence.
Halflives of mundane-majestic matter
deteriorated into bits and carried away.
Touching a piece of everything
as you blow past-through unheeded.
Taste the sum of the universe,
the smell of evolution,
the sound of progress,
the sight of eternity.

We may not achieve
the sweet bliss of timelessness
but at least the feeling of
reaching for it is real/
The pleasure in the burn of used muscles
can be relished.
Dreams are free
and a kiss created from the truest passion
is better than the fleeting touch
of instinctual copulations.
Agonizing love unreciprocated
leaves a burning mark indeed.
Longer lasting by far than
resigned partnership.
Let go and burn
while you still have the fuel.
While you still have the sensation of
licking your inhibitions.
Burn while you can still
scream in release,
while you can still see your own beauty,
taste your own reaction,
hear your own moan of truth.
Savour that exquiste pain
because it's the closest we'll get
to the nature of events unhindered,
life undiluted.
Pure as light from a dead star.
Cold a thousand years past
and yet we'll still see it burn.

Smoking makes you cooler - His Majesty's Image Consultant
Brought from within the pulse or the movement
Echoing in time, rendering life
Naked eyes across the darkness.

Winds and the likes of thunder, clattering hooves of travel
Forged in flesh and soul.
She the white one standing tall with the ignorance of world, all over her face.
Piciking in the gutter, chasing breadcrumbs astray

And then the black one came: eyes of the deepest souls, thorn from within.
Demons in her wake of dreams and sorrows.
Hearth, deep in abyss, hidden behind the need, to grasp the essence of life.
Oh purple crimson darkness her need is a readymade to fly
To chase her life for the purpose of living even more.

Thought about you girl, the other day
I couldn't of a single thing I'd say
- wouldn't think I'd want it any other way.
You're with me - all your hopes and blames
I'm lost in smoke and video games.
Victories on par with all the shames.
Like tracks to trains like wood to flames
a junkie living down among the stains.
With a dimebag and a claim
on the verge of down the drain.
Don't you know given a second chance...
I'd do it all the same.

wasted nights of well spent years
the fun and games and tears
well-drank beers to stay those fears
it's surely not as bad as it appears

Thought about you man the other night.
Don't know why or who began that fight.
And yet it's true i always knew that what we did was right.
Your fists hurt now as much as then
I'm stumbling through the count of ten.
Love or war we'd always act like men.
What bitter ends a man descends.
Time can be such misery to spend.
We'd say sorry for pretend
too late now to make ammends.
Don't ya know given a second chance...
I'd do it all again.

wasted nights of well spent years
the fun and games and tears
well-drank beers to stay those fears
it's surely not as bad as it appears

Thought about you all a while ago.
The "temporary break apart" has grown to 15 years or so.
If asked to choose a better sounding ending I'd say no.
Thinking of the past sure brings, fallen dreams beheaded kings
illicit scores of escapades and flings.
At night I broken-hearted cling
so bittersweetly to the sting.
To the pain of living life but don't ya know...
I'd never change a thing.

wasted nights of well spent tears
gone those golden years
no more beers to stay those fears...
...still my life ain't quite as bad as it appears.

Smoking makes you cooler - His Majesty's Image Consultant
I have to tell you something
before this thing goes too far,
digs too deep, gets complicated.
Before it becomes dangerous, caves in on us.
I need you to know about the
ideosynchrocies of all the me's
and I have to tell you right now
because you're bound to find out and
it's better to be sooner than later or
it'll be worse for you if you don't like
what I'm about to say.
I'm not a bastard or a father.
I didn't kill anyone, only wished it.
I'm not divorced and
I'm not from outer space though
I wish I was or at least picked up
by a saucerload of silicon-enhanced
bikini-clad Twi-leks for an
illicity trip through the universe.
I'm not addicted to drugs.
Very much, and I don't work out.
I don't watch TV and I have an
imagination like a terminator-staffed phalanx
descending on a village full of
retards and guidance councellors.
Sometimes my imagination is amazing
and sometimes it's frightening.
Actually a lot it's frightening and
also repulsive.
I believe in monogamy and I believe I can still believe in true love
while also being crazy obsessed with girls they drive me wild and I'm compelled to look at them oggle them hungrily and imagine them kissing each other and inserting large clear rubber dildos in and out of each other all of them and
I'm sorry I already got carried away didn't I?
It's my curse when trying to
come across as pure and decent and honest
about relationships and dedication while exhibiting these pornopathic hedonistic self-absorbed slut-fiend tendencies.
I'm sorry, but I only want to fuck you.
I'm really a nice guy and trustworthy.
I like your sister.
I really like your sister.
I like your mother.
I really hate your father.
I don't want to know your grandparents
and I don't want you to know mine.
I'm perverted.
I'm obscenely perverted.
I'm obscenely, exceedingly, ridiculously, gotta-admit-I've-got-originality-in-my-sexual-mentality, ravenously perverted.
I'm not psychotic.
I'm noty possessed and also
I'm not into incest.
I've never been under arrest
and i've got witnesses who will attest that I don't have any diseases.
Some may argue the point.
I'm allergic to dumb people.
I inhale my food.
I'd like to inhale you.
As with food, I never spill a drop and
I know my salad fork from
my dinner fork.
And milk with every meal.

Smoking makes you cooler - His Majesty's Image Consultant
Someday boy, you'll understand.
You'll learn what it takes for you to be a man.
Someday, my child, You'll see what I mean.
Why the sky is blue and why the grass is green.
Someday little boy, life will become clear.
So lighten up and smile, and wipe away that tear.
But someday never came, I don't think it's real.
Someday never came, I think it never will.
Someday, precious son, this will be all yours.
Through hard work and toil.
Through those mundane chores.
Someday future man, you'll see how it works.
The governments your friend. Taxes never hurt.
Someday frightened child, You'll be secure.
Just have faith in god, in him you can be sure.
But someday never came.

(Insert witticism here)
verse doesn't seem to be people's bag here.
forgive me as i post some more.

All Psychological

forced into two. corrupting psychological
force me into corrupting. psychological
forces too corrupting. psychological
polorized. comprehending psychological

Forgive me I'm sorry (this act)
I'm afraid you're afraid of me
- can't I can I pretend I can't let you escape it
All these habits of mine - you're a catalyst

It was I brought the knife don't you see
You embrace it so courageously
Bared all your skin to me trusting me totally (daringly)
- so what I'm forgiven I'll always be guilty
I can look oh but barely (and you)
flit about so tantalizing
flit about so tantalizing

forced into two corrupting forces me into corrupting
these forces too corrupting - polorized comprehending

Cut to the quick all too quickly (this trap sprung)
On purpose I'd chew my own leg off
- heavy deflated molecular red and nicotine
Tied to a stake - could you not have ignored it

No I can't impose on the sea
Press the Sun to my face immolate me
If you wnat to escape me you must learn to hate me
- you may have been baited and yet you came freely
I can see through just barely (I see me)
spreading through you galvanizing
spreading through you galvanizing

forced into two corrupting forces me into corrupting
these forces too corrupting - polorized comprehending

Psychological - what's left is all psychological
It all gets psychological
Psychological - all psychological

If we'd just kept our eyes closed (we wouldn't be)
Castaways lost in this desert forsaken
- just couldn't stop with the ruin halfway petrified
Decaying orbital trainwreck - you're not quite blameless

Doomed from the start fatally
All you could give eaten greedily
Sinful invoking your memory blessed to relive all the agony
- so smug always knew you weren't meant for me
I cut myself loose just barely (what now)
charged sickle-cell redividing
charged sickle-cell redividing

Couldn't have been any other way
Couldn't have been more methodical
My blood turned to grey long ago anyway
Now that it's all psychological

Psychological - everything's all gone psychological
Gets fuzzy when it all goes psychological
Guess things got too psychological
All psychological
Psychological - was i too psychological
All psychological
This is the thaumaturgy,
buisness of the blood-born.
Sapiens and Manicheans lust for it...
some duality in the course of things.
Because isomorphic machines
(like milk)
rot from the inside; congeal.
A minute more and an omega point approacheth.
The blind mice (two eyes, three heads)
would rather align polarly,
understand monuments in "is's" and "are not's."
Illusion prevails, a mighty vex.
But death (glory; complete) is hollow...
a standard to judge life against.
"Lines are lines" they say.
Your great Pythagorean theory of sanguine desires.


(it has been a REALLY long time since I was spontaneous like that... real-time poetry for a new generation. The last time I did that was on a dial-up BBS with a 1200 baud modem... smoking cigarettes before 1st hour. Time is a morbid thing.)
what's this?
a mistake?
not shame
think about pain
like a faded memory
on a distant plane
not mine
but someone else's game
six in the tank
for love in the vein
stuck pacing sixty miles
below a summer wane
what's this?
a mistake?
only rain
but everyone's the same

From the War Chronicles
Which are simply a selection of poems that I have written dealing with human's insatiable need to kill themselves.

A random shape;
Reclined in
corregated shade.
Slowly consuming
the last part of the day.
How this smile
(painted here; monolithic)
perpetuates (or signals)
And that shadow
(at once synonymous)
holds its head
up high,
grins at the sky
and praises one willow
as the bombs fall
and his shade
is fractured.


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