the feeling that one day all my "friends" will have disappeared into the night.
finding out that by tomorrow, all my "friends" will be a distant memory.
seperated by land.
always knowing it would one day come, but never expecting it.
the thought that we will no longer be friends in person,
just another voice on the phone.
we hate to acknowledge it, but can't not think about it.
having the experience already, knowing that after those 10 miles, we will forget.
thinking that they aren't thinking the same as you, but deep down, knowing they are.
this is the one thing that sucks about having friends...
being seperated.
Author: Deswyr
Luminated pools of blue green splendor
Swallow me into their bottomless glory
The silence is replaced by warmth
Strong arms wrapped about my naked body
I am only for him
No denial
Silken fingertips dance their moonlight ballet
Sending delicious shivers up and down my skin
I open my tiny mouth
To find his lips wet against mine
I melt in his embrace
No protest
every time I see the sun I wish that you could too,
but now that you are gone from me my wish cannot come true.
You've left a void inside of me that nothing ever fills,
but I can understand the grief that drew you to the pills.
You just weren't destined for this place, your soul was pure and mild,
the god's had always intended you ,to be a spirit child.
Some times in the dead of night ,I dream I see your face,
the stars are in your hair my love and you have found your place.
Although my heart will always ache, if someone speaks you name,
my love for you will linger long remaining just the same.
Pale white skin and hair of red,
thoughts of thee rush through my head.
How I long to hold you near,
and whisper sweetly in your ear-
Of lustful thoughts you stir in me,
the beast within I long to free.
For though my sweet I wish you no pain,
your youth full life I long to claim.
To see Your blood flow long and thin,
from puncture wounds on flawless skin.
So grant me fair maiden my parting wish,
and offer your neck to receive my kiss...
camembert flying cheese
dribbing rough on my skin
like a sour
dough
basketball game
three weebils in a hat
and you lying acid in my flesh
the truth
lost
in the endless corridors
close to the ocean floor
I loved her once
But perhaps never again
For now she is dying
I cannot bear to think
That I did this to her
But not of my own free will
I wish it could be different
I wish that I could take it back
Take back the words that I
So harshly and bluntly said
Take back the love which
I so wrongly committed to her
For I never knew that it would end like this
I wish that it could be different
I wish that I was lying in bed dying from some overdose
But I am stuck here all alone wondering
Can I ever forgive myself
I brought death to this sweet child
And I cannot forget the sound in her voice
As I told her those fatal words
'This can be no more'
I told her this in vain
Thinking it wouldn't matter
But as it ends
I am the one that is always wrong
For I always move on someone else's
Command
I wish that I could take it back....
The world grows dark
With the needle in the vein
Why do I do this
I can think of no other way
For my self to gain happiness
The warmth fills my body
And I don't feel it anymore
It steals all the pain
There is no better way
As I see it to dispose
Of the unhappiness of these lies
So I pull the needle out
And I lie on my back
Let the drugs take over
Why have I degraded it myself to this
Can I possibly be so dumb
As to fall into the trap
Of this loathsome drug
But I enjoy not feeling
All of my surroundings but
When I awaken I remember
Nothing because of this addiction
I awaken bleeding from razors
But I do not remember
There is nothing to remember
As I awake from my self -induced dream
Is this really what I wished for
For now I must live my own addiction
The poets cart their way to hell
and bound they have me in tow.
The ropes are tight
one of them pinches me
tightly, when I'm not looking.
They wave their souls on sticks.
"Hell's not so bad," they say, "Not when it's burned
inside of you for years."
The poets cart their way to hell,
and bound,they have me in tow
Faces I don't recognize say "Welcome home."
"I'm not staying," I say. "They just have me in tow."
But I can tell they don't believe me.
Byron hands me a glass of water.
(where did he get that?)
The poets cart their way to hell, and I find
that I don't care anymore.
My sentinel has left me and the watch has fallen asleep
I pray the Lord, my soul to keep.
Author's Notes: This is probably my favorite poem that I have ever written. I still look back and think, "Did I write this? That's impossible!"
The Night's Stolen Glance
The night has its wishes
Simple hopes and charming dreams
Its sable silk bears its platinum tears
Finding black holes instead of moonbeams
The darkness stunts my intrepidity
I am only a nomad now, nothing more
I hunt with Artemis, fantasize with Erato
Yet I can only think to deplore
The shining golden pixie dust claims I am beseemed
To pluck them each from the ebony sky
However, "I am hell-fire's phoenix untouched
By anything joyous," I dejectedly reply
"No one could understand my beguiling insignificance
Or any of my neglected sorrow
"I have no interest in what today may bring
So the stars, no, I just could not borrow."
The sparkling remains of Cupid and Psyche's love
Could do nothing but giggle and smile
For they knew a mystical, enchanting secret
That I had missed, complaining, all the while
What could it be then, I did wonder
That would make the stars smile at me?
I am no importance to anyone
Was there something that I just couldn't see?
The perspicacious crescent chuckled
He knew of the stars' little game
This "phoenix" would finally give up her conflagration
For tha chance to dispose of her shame
"Believe in us, little one," they urged in solemnity
As the diamonds glittered in the twilight
"We would fall from the heavens for your rapture
If only a smle would bear your delight."
Were they talking to me, or was it my mind
Playing the devious trickster's hand?
I truly wish they would give me a veracious answer
To what my fate was to be planned
I sat, alone, nestled gently in the emeralds
Watching my new little, twinkling friends
I wrapped my arms around my knees in comfort
Epiphanies, crackling fireworks, ascend
It was an awe-inspiring moment when I decisively relaized
That there was nothing more on which to depend
He sat nonchalantly in the moon's lap
Possessing a dazzling smile of innocence
He held out his angelic hand to me
Beckoning me to lose my caustic defense
"Why should I trust you?" I cry,
Not comprehending the stars' sweet surprise
"Because I love you," he revealed simply
And at once, the barren, raven shield was
lifted from my eyes.
I had my answer.
Author: Sandra L. Ream
To Be a Clown
I always wanted to be a clown
but I would never wear a frown,
Smiles on my face will only be found
so I can pass some happiness around.
I would bring some poodles in my act.
Definitely there would be no dumb cars.
I get some laughs by juggling aome balls.
I get some pies in my face and do some fancy falls.
If I can bring some joy to a child one day.
It would make me feel good in every way.
The long ago heart beat
of a new age rhythm
seems dead
fish cold limp
lifeless.
Perhaps the words have no sounds
Directiontion, beginnings,
Or ends.
Carelessly placed
Unsorted
Short lived…
A whisper not heard.
This letter of nothing
Is the only passable
Message I can send off
This coiled blue tougue.
May you receive it in good health
And pass it through an hour glass
Of slipery tasting time…
Today I’m through.
An alien sent to you
Radiant blue
But too small to see.
A carrier of importance
Jibberishly spoken in silver ink.
This is my letter to you,
You, you, you,
You, you, you
And you.
Behind our stone faces, people see hatred, so we are humble.
Still, their hatred exists. We try to become like the Stone,
in order not to hate, for there are too many things and reasons
we could use for hate.
From the beginning we knew that there was no production in
hate, and our purpose is to create, not to destroy.
Regardless if the rest of the world destroys itself.
Then there will only be we, who knew the path to our own
spiritual existence, and perhaps another world will be created.
