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Literature Text
A Crimson Explosion of Euphoric Rain
How may I excite thee?
Shall I present you the stuffed animal of dreams?
One that can be snuggled against?
One that shall ever hold you close?
How shall I satisfy thine tastes?
Will a box of dark mushy goodness suffice?
Or does it have to be something of with a little after taste?
Would you like a fire to keep you cozy?
Still wish to sit in the basement on this cold winter night?
All of these questions and no answer?
Well let me enlighten your desires.
Go outside, the rays of hope shall bestow warmth.
The toys of the store shall keep you company.
And the sweets of love will make you full.
Come, a rain of Euphoric proportions is upon us.
How may I excite thee?
Shall I present you the stuffed animal of dreams?
One that can be snuggled against?
One that shall ever hold you close?
How shall I satisfy thine tastes?
Will a box of dark mushy goodness suffice?
Or does it have to be something of with a little after taste?
Would you like a fire to keep you cozy?
Still wish to sit in the basement on this cold winter night?
All of these questions and no answer?
Well let me enlighten your desires.
Go outside, the rays of hope shall bestow warmth.
The toys of the store shall keep you company.
And the sweets of love will make you full.
Come, a rain of Euphoric proportions is upon us.
Literature
nest of thought
every day I see these doves perched outside
my window. they are as blank as bleached sheets of paper--
crinkled at the corners and piled into a flock.
i want to eat them--sip at the burning rot of my
columbian-blend coffee and dine on their pretty poem hearts.
my hands would catch frail bone-song, breaking them into
a rejuvenated verse of something earthbound--in a single snap of
little wings, the birds become flightless, half-way uttered phrases.
their bunched up feathers curl into pause.
i’d move to the second line--the throat, crushing windpipes
to taste the rumble of a dying note. i’d plunge through the fibers
of mus
Literature
living pain
My mother raised me to be good
So now I watch others and how they would
destroy the lifes of people I love
destroying their souls before meeting, above
All I am... paralized how
life in itself corrupting us now...
Every woman I meet, distressed
Men try to escape... through raping the rest.
I try to feel through spreading my love
these feelings unwanted, cause what they speak of
reminds them of loss, a reminder of trust
they gifted but lost... upon a knifes thrust
never removed,remain in their heart
not stitches but tissues are coming apart
containing through masks so broken can't heal
now causing what pained them to make themselve
Literature
Poem
roses are black
violets are black
everything is black
the stars are gone
L E A V E
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Comments9
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ooh my,
I have no idea what's going on but the wording alone makes me feel like a little kid, in a good, giggly, Shakespeare way
I have no idea what's going on but the wording alone makes me feel like a little kid, in a good, giggly, Shakespeare way