fill in the blanks yourself.
I'm so sick of your sass
kicking my ass
every which way
down by the bay
what do I say?
Lines from a movie,
one whom I've qouted,
too many times.
This beautiful mask of pearls
riddled ancient chinese scribbles
all dabble my self consicous
until I begin to stutter
in a cascade of ramblings
muttering demented morse codes
creamily cementing them
into your face.
Not even the king himself
would be able to understand,
this topsy turvy behavior.
Suddenly a spooky fear,
grips all of the kingdom,
now the citizens are so afraid
of spilling the news
out from their tiny newspapers.
Funny how one little bomb
can explode our fragile minds
into a million pieces.
We're afraid another repeat
will appear on tv.
Is it too late
to change the channel
or are we stuck
on redial?
We keep calling god
but he puts us on hold
must be talking to his girlfriend.
Chattering away so much
hes completely forgotten
we exist in the first place.
But do gods really date?
Are they figments of our
over exaggerating minds?
I guess I'm too high
on my high energies
at the moment.
I'm so scared
of what the next sentence
will imply.
Oops I'll just screw it up
and fuck with my flow
go ahead and blam me,
no one will ever know.
I'm not here
as far as I'm concerned.
I'm just lost within a maze
that has a big exit sign
right in front of my blind eyes.
Oh sure,
I could leave,
but whats the point?
I kind of like
having my mind
getting fucked up
by these random flowing terms.
They make no sense
and perhaps never will,
nor will they ever
give me back
a shit load of cents.
But it doesn't matter
I'm fine with just typing away
my sorrows and horrors,
my laughters and charmers,
for no price at all.
Its all a point,
that is there,
right when I need it.
They're one big family
I collect like pokemon,
catching them
like some freaky zoo keeper.
We're all trying to capture something
that will give us entertainment
but how would you like it
if you were tossed into a cage
and poked and prodded
with a giant spoon
just to wake you up
half past noon
for a late lunch,
or would it be breakfast?
Bah which goes where
is all up to your vague stare
that zips down my writing
faster than guzzling down
a giant can of soda.
I'm not sure
if it will burn your insides
upon digestion
but it will sure as hell feel good
right?
Oh who am I kidding,
I'm a walking,
talking, contradiction dressed in shades
all mirroring the dark places
we all hide within.
Its like I'm undressing you
with my eyes,
other than the other way
around.
Oh no my friend,
you've been tricked,
I'm the one whose tricking you,
no flip sided bull shit mind you.
I'm full of double entendres,
and you'd never realize it.
This bizarre fellow
has just took away
your precious time,
how does it feel
to have me in your system?
Am I just one big virus
that you love to hate?
I'll spread my disease
everywhere I can.
Big clouds of dust
spurt all over you.
Not much else to tell,
other than that,
maybe its because
we're all made of fat
and not the spiritual matter
thats way deep inside
locked inside a cupboard.
Damnit I failed once again
to please myself
for another writing,
but was it good enough for you?
Do you contemplate me?
Or do you resent
every single little thing
this single guy has poured out?
Working his bones to sleep
even when hes not really moving.
Just who the hell am I?
And just who the hell are you?
Are we destined to become friends,
once you slap down,
your vacant review,
while I weep away
tired and frightened
that no one will ever
give me the much needed feedback
I need to grow from.
I want to grow
from this god awful garden.
But these damn weeds and vines
choke my every vein.
My supplies,
are completely depleted,
so please good helper
with your sun shining armour
or black velvet dress,
please take some of your personal time
to give these roots
some much needed water.
Help me grow,
into something beautiful.
Review