299 lines
10 KiB
Plaintext
299 lines
10 KiB
Plaintext
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F U C K E D U P C O L L E G E K I D S
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- t h e p o e t r y v e n t u r e -
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"It is difficult to get the news from poems yet men die
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miserably every day for lack of what is found there."
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- William Carlos Williams
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ode zu allen Frauen, die ich habe, liebte
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jene Frauen haben nie meine Liebe zurUckgebracht
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i stood like a cold statue
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glaring out across the field of snow
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i could feel the heat of my pounding heart
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warming my body in the sub zero temperature
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i could feel the anticipation of the moment
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i could feel the desire
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i could feel love
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and longing
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there is so much i want to do
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so much to say
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so much to experience
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but i stood like patience on a monument
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unmoving as my desires built like a fiery storm within me
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i so wanted to run into the snow
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like the child i once was
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and be marry in my ways
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when i knew nothing of this torture called love
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i wanted to explode with energy
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sprout my wings and fly the skies
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as fast and furious as mortally possible
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i wanted to escape with loud music
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pounding against my ears
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i wanted to drink from the burning fuel
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i wanted to eat the madness
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but i stood there
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shaking in my silence
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letting the cold air pound against my chest
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i began to breath heavily
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i began to erupt with passion inside myself
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i could not stand to stand any longer
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if i did not act upon my emotions
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i would surely die
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of the one thing i have never truly had
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my legs twitched
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i could feel it coming
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the moment i have lived for
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was this it
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is this the time worth living for
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is this what i have come so far for
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allowing no more control of my body
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i began to run
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i ran through the field of snow like a bull in the run
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i ran with passion as fire leapt out from behind me
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i ran with desire as the angels came up to watch
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i ran until the final moment fell upon me
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i leapt into the air and tried to fly
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to escape
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and reality crashed down around me
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as i feel hard to the ground
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and i cracked the earth with that motion
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as i laid there
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i could feel the realization of why i have never achieved my goal
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...
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i have never tried hard enough
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...
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i never made that final action to obtain it
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i never tried long enough
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i never tried at all
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one of the angels stood over my broken form
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he unleashed his understanding against me
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and then he unleashed pain
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his elements struck hard against my skin
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they tore their way into my chest
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he looked down at my boiling heart
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and began to reach for it
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he didn't expect what i had for him
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no one expects what i have for them
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they never do
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as his hand met my heart
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an explosion occurred
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he was thrown back
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and all the other angels turned away
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as the light blinded them
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i stood up and walked over to the fallen angel
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i stared hard upon his smoldering body
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i looked at his burning wings
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and i looked into his face
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and he was crying
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i closed my chest
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put back on my dusty black coat
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and with an expression of distinct void
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i walked away
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and they let me go
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to this i wondered of myself
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if my love is strong enough to make the angels cry
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why isn't it strong enough for the mortals
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why am i so cold
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why am i so hard
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is my love unmatched in this existence
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or have i just not found it's return yet
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alas
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i am all out of tears
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and have no where else to go
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so i shall stand here
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looking out across the field of snow
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remembering the one time i acted upon my emotions
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the one time i let passion rule my mind
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i will see you again soon
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and when you look into my eyes
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past my soul
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and into my heart
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will you see a picture of yourself
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hanging in my torture chamber
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the only place left that lets me feel
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- rage-303
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TEMPO FOR TEARS (IN STEREO)
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i think this will change my foot-groove view -
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fear surprised my by tapping my shoulder
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too many times in this ballroom decade;
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an experience to photograph for my children -
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to dance across new horizons and bridges
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with success leaning into my upbeat body.
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flesh covers my body, but I cannot sing -
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radio stations tucked me into bed each night
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while cold shivers forsake my physical needs;
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another emotional melody to sway with -
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rhythm in my words destroyed by shy situations
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in attempts to waltz away from solo pain.
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nothing too fast for this awkward dreamer -
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stars point for my feet to settle onto the ground
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instead of trying to fly from rejection faces;
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there are goddesses and mermaids calling -
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arrangements must not be scripted or recorded,
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but i cannot improvise dreams for public performance.
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Indiana Poet Jan. 7, 1998
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LIFE
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Shedders naive where the building
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Clothes dresses up on heart
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Draws the picture of his future
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Keeps the paper close at hand
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Back system into a suitcase
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Suffers terror on a train
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And he wants to start some movement
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Cause he's indestructible
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Destructable
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Destructable
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Destructable
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Destructable
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Destructable
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Destructable
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Destructable
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Destructable
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Destructable
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Destructable
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Destructable
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Destructable
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Destructable
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Destructable
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Destructable
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Cause he's in
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And you know they'll have appointments
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And they'll live us alone
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And if we just keep on talking
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Then we'll stare make its own
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There's commotion and promotions
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Now they dunk it anymore
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Selling pictures to a paper
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Now that everyone must know
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Trading satelites for substance
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Let spectators pave the way
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We'll invade the travy fountain
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Now that everyone must pay
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Trading satelites for substance
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Let spectators pave the way
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We'll invade the travy fountain
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Now that everyone must pay
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Mama's babies
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Mothers, tragedy
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Babies, mothers, tragedy
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Babies, mothers, tragedy
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Terrifies again.........
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If you can understand the song you get the message
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- satanhell
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King of Wishful Thinking
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Wishing what was said, was real
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Planning ahead for what you do not know,
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and reaching for things you think you want.
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Wishing on stars, out of sight,
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for things that are or never were,
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you find yourself King.
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Trying to find that one,
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not to ever seal with a kiss,
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but to just touch and feel.
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Wishing on stars, out of sight,
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if only you knew what I held this night.
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For then things would be different,
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and you would find yourself a happy King.
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Instead you are a King with no Queen.
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And, the truth should never be seen.
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For the stars outshine the dim light,
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that you wish upon this very night.
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Things so sacred, you would never -
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yet, you still find yourself wishing.
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Only to be a King of Wishful Thinking.
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-Kamira January 18th, 1998
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First poem of the year. kami@sekurity.org
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Erotica (or dedication to Shane)
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Sheltered innocence is sexual appeal
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emotional turmoil an unfounded desire
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twisted soul, scarred psyche, raging conflict...
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desire to share pain, desire to be the
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missing element. desire
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Is it comprehension of pain?
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empathy of internal struggle?
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or lacking in oneself, and need for pain from another?
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Doesn't matter. Come mind fuck me.
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Please?
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E D I T O R S: jericho@dim.com & demonika@dim.com
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jericho@dimensional.com with "subscribe poetry". if
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send a list of missing issues and they will be sent.
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A V A I L A B I L I T Y:
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AnonFTP: FTP.DIMENSIONAL.COM/users/jericho/FUCK/POETRY
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WWW: http://www.dimensional.com/~jericho
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(c) Copyright. All poems copyright by original author.
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F O U N D E D: October 30, 1997
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