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Last edited by Mantra; December 24th, 2005 at 04:22 AM
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Alrighty. Use it as a warm up.
Home movies, planned and staged, the sepia's engaged.
From the look on her face, the flush of crimson; more than enraged,
The grain was broken, wind fluttered and hugged her, the window open,
What I thought was an innate cough, wasn't mellow, and she was choking,
Her timid attitude in front of the camera tedious, the hand not feeding us,
The resentment that overshadowed us from our daughter; not needing us,
Her eyes were filled with tears, the bloodshot glance of "Happy Hour" cheers,
A look that could be reached beyond the camera, facing our enormous fears,
When I review and edit the tape, the pause was habitual, my mental state,
Where there were once eyes, there were deep indentations, seeming to gape,
And from this day on, the picture hangs in my room, charged on my Visa,
It's a work of art, what I call the Solemn Gaze of our own Mona Lisa.
Last edited by D. Josey; December 30th, 2005 at 09:44 AM
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... Suddenly your placed on a wall ...
"Mirror Mirror on the wall who is the pretiest of them all"
Mirror Response:
Your sunken eyes show no mistake
of the life that you take
Your groved smile take a presence
of your lifestyle with omnipresence
Your are beautiful when your soul was still there
But when you took your life it was fair
Not for you but for your town
which is why you were baried without a crown
Your fleating peasent clothes do not fit you well
To take your life means straight to hell
Your blackend bones show no mercy
and your words lack a sense of gramercy...
My soultry angel I must take a breath
but the pretiest thing was your death
yo miro la muerte
no tengo la suerte
ya no existe la mente
el puro eskeleto...no meinte
tu madre se seinte
no te conveine
hacer preteindente
-TRANSLATION-
i see death
i have no luck
the mind dosent exist
the skull dosent lie
your mother gets her feelings hurt
it isnt worth it
to be a pretender
I see it as you do not
Fatigued and aching
A shell of your former sea
lost and drifting in endless waves
And there lies the secret
As you look past my skin
Throught and beyond
It is there you past lies
A few achievements here and there
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I Got two poems
Looking at my own death just beneat me..
Where my soul is kept...it's all there...
Reflecting at me...Time To Time
Every second that pass.....You get weaker
My life get's short just by lookin at the face
You know there is no turning back from da reaper
So you get deeper n deeper until your last grasp of breathe
You no long try.....then it's gets easier to retain it....
Life lost, although I long to be Lost as a candle lit at noon, Lost as a snowflake in the sea. Death loves me, and Time finds me still A spirit beautiful and bright, Yet I am I, who long to be Lost as a light is lost in light. Oh plunge me deep in Death -- put out My senses, leave me deaf and blind, Swept by the tempest of ma Death, A taper in a Picture Frame comes to life
Water, the bringing of life, thou shall also take away.
Such a silent death, for you not know when the day comes
Typically scarey, but only if you can't scratch the surface
Look deeper and see the years and life of torment
Eyes are null, utilize senses to percieve the imagery
Lose vision, it makes others stronger ten fold
A sorrow full day, but instead think of the latter
A life of misery ended, for he now rests with angels.
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looks like my plastic surgery went dead wrong.
I thold tha doctor if he knew what he was doin.
He nodded his head and set the machine up to me.
The physical pain ruching throught my fragile body,
With my fat gushing our of my intestines first.
I screamed but the doctor just increased the pressure.
Slowly, like a setting a dog on fire, I was dying helplessly.
Death got angry at me cause I was about to take his place.
Ironcially, I managed to kill him before he got one on me.
yeah.............................................. ............RETARDED.
such desolate grim...clothed in part
by the rampant ways of victory.....the darkness of art
skeletol remains the only sign of life
cloaked...heavenly stroked...with a hint of strife
therefore rendering incriments of the dead
living as a peasant.....beggin for morsels of bread
as the hood raises and the fierceness pasts
the evil face of an angel forever seems to last
rebuked by the many..plaguerized by the few
subdued by the inquiries....remolded by the new
beauty and evil crossed...product of witch's brew
the switches flew...
yeilding a personal frankenstein
as i see this face it eases me to a final state of mind
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under the flesh, or is it layed over
damn, do skeleton bones need a makeover
no sorrow or emotions shown in a skull
just true thoughts and bones in a hull
last words drowning as the thought pool is sinking
losses of thousands is this the last words im thinking
blood shed with tears headed for demise
its hard to see clear with hollow eyes
regrets impossible when its to late for repentance
cuz mirrors cant show the inside of your bodies reflection
this night was different....
odd to say the least...
though no meat nore greenery entered me....
4 double dipped LSD blotters were my feast....
but even with the LSD, this night was odd to say the least....
i found my mind corroding as i was moseying tripping off this whole scene...
Walking ‘round threw deaths halls, phantasmagoric images stretching out from the walls...
Yes this night was peculiar....
Odd yes i must say....
Walked for a while, for what seemed like 2 days....
Saw a room that looked lucky and opened with rage....
Darkness turned quickly to day, this night was odd yes i must say....
Couldn’t fathom there’s a sole cuz how could it stay whole within the mind of that skull.....
It made my sole vomit, it made my mind fall in, to see in deaths eye sockets....
just an on the spot poem
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