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Gallant sirs and debutantes arriving at the ball.
A masquerade on friday night, down at Windsor Hall.
Cocktail's flowing, band is playing, winner takes it all!
By the time the party's done it's on the floor they'll crawl.

Silk-laced gowns and three-piece suits and faces that are masked.
Homely Archduke's daughter's there (surprised that she was asked!).
Woodford twins arrived at ten (weren't asked and so they crashed!).
Gals of Downton also came, in adulation basked.

Truth be told, behind the masks and costumes made of wool,
are rotten chaps and spoiled debs who suffer not a fool.
And if you think these words of mine are harsh or mean or cr

Cordis Somnium*Fall past the asphalt
Thro’ the honey bee scene
Dip thy feet within
Naides’ yielding stream.

Thine arms splayed toward Hyades
A grey morn consumes the sun
Rain brings silk to the heat fraught meadow;
For time to touch thy form, it must run.

And thine hair was a mess after the rain.
“Will you ask it of me soon?”
Before the world is found to be concrete and sprinkled streets
“Before my qualms on leaving find the noon?”

The sharp cry of the meandering city
Thrives on slapdash letters, in cheap, restless dives
Therein reside, the silent concerto of our drifting
Where individual voices drown, and no love

I aint made of paintI aint made of paint.

I'm made of concrete.

Your the one who kicked me off my feet.

Look past the picture.
Look past the scriptures.
Look closer, look deeper.

How bout
for once, you be the brush

How bout
for once, you shut up and hush.

You the mortal and pestle,
my spirits you crushed.

Into fine grain, into fine dust.

Your form the colors!
You sculpt the bust!

I aint made of paint

I aint acrylics.
I aint oils.
I aint water color.

We are no art scholars.

But,
listen good.
Listen close.

Next time you don't like, when i'm feeling blue.

I refuse, to paint a picture for you.

Slow and SteadyCrowds of people rush around,
their steaming coffee in one hand and phone in the other,
while they juggle their problems and all of their emotions
and claim that everyone around them is a bother.
Caught in such a frenzy, they push their way
through the slow and steady that block their path,
for they're already running far too late
to even consider slowing down or turning back.
Where they are trying to go, I haven't the slightest idea,
but even if I asked, they'd surely be far too preoccupied
ignoring everything else as they sip their cold coffee
and stare at their phone, wondering how the battery already died.

Red-Eyed EgoOn a dying tree, in a forest of lush,
sat a lone crow, whose red eyes
scanned every stone, branch and bush
in that vast land.
The wind picked up, carrying the leaves
that had fallen from that tree,
which the crow strongly believed
was her only home.
It needed not a single leaf, nor
a shred of life, for all it needed
was to stand, to help the crow explore
and see everything that surrounded her.
She required no love, nor a single friend,
so long as her tree stood tall
in that forest, until the end -
all she wanted was the sight.
With her piercing eyes, that crow saw
everything that could be seen -
she saw every virtue and every flaw
that exist

Shut inDon’t mock me, or block me
from taking my stance;
A pity, the city
is caught in a trance.

If only the lonely--
the rich and the poor,
Admit it, we did it!
By shutting our door.

I’d doubt it, without it,
We’d crumble in ruin;
Still, steady, already
forgot what we’re doin’,

We chide the society
for shutting us in--
When really, the “silly”
was us to begin.

time to grow uplife feels personal but it's not
woes befall by scattershot
what's happening now has happened before
what does not pertain we learn to ignore

you pray for a break you want a promise
it is what it is there is no justice

llp - dA - may2013

How to Know You're Living Rightif today was your last day,
and tomorrow was too late...

if the devil came and knocked on my door,
said, "You'll be given scant hours more."
I'd pack no bags, just jot a note:
"It's been fun, more than I'd hoped,"
and let it flutter to the floor.

if plans you make for your last day,
things you'd want to try and play;
if special times you wish you would,
you're not living as you should...
it doesn't matter anyway.

when the devil comes and knocks on my head,
"This day is your last," he said;
"Keep the change, let's move on out:
last day's ain't what life's about."
I'll race him to his vessel instead.

could you say goodbye to yesterday?

Sins of the FleshThey're gazing in their mirror eyes
Full of loving longing and filthy longing
And moist-meat sounds that turn
My stomach at the thinking of.
They rut, my friends, and damn themselves.
I envy the damned, their ignorance.
Their love looks like lust to loveless eyes.

And as such, I can see them rutting
Whenever I close my eyes
And the thought itself disgusts me.
And in the ending of their tryst
They pool together into one.

They strut and rut in the streets
That burn in lust beneath my eyes.
Would that a tide would wash away
Oh that a tide of fire would burn away
And cleanse this world of its filth!

Yet one day, in a possible future,
I may be

Something To Believe In...My heart, a field of wildflowers,
Your love can make them bloom.
Fill my head with diamond showers,
And thoughts of golden noons.
Rays of whimsy find your smile,
They dance across your face.
Electric light behind your eyes,
White heat in your embrace.
Smolders linger where you touch,
Refusing to consume.
Tantalizingly preventing
Pleasures known too soon.
Amber soulfire flickers densely
Inside our misted shade.
While heavenly once was our intention,
To desires we abade.
A penny for your thoughts, my dear
Or maybe two, or three,
Surely all the riches I hold
For what you think of me...

Paint the Worlddon't plant your soul deep underground,
only your fears will sprout.
let it soar in the blue sky high,
let it turn you inside-out.

seed the clouds grey and white,
and the colors will rain on down.
dip your brush in puddles wide,
or dance is your drab gown.

this world will offer...this world will offer a tie for my trust
but no government can raise life from the dust

so i got to remember the truth that resides
when ile follow my heart instead of the lies

that everyones spewd whether like it or not
who knows wut is best in a place that will rot?

so just smile and think 'wut a fool is that guy'
hes not going to college he'll be shoed as a fly

and tho i may not be on record or known
we'll all be remembered for wut we have sown

not wut we have reaped or wut we may claim
achievements or 'honors' as fame is a game

and 'trusty' employers will say they know why
and demanding u orders to follow, or 'bye'

but i got to ask

Chasing hidden light

Water rolls off of pristine petals
Far beyond the beauty of moist metals

The organic life fighting for the outside
Wanting a life the cage seems to hide

Customary blooms of a sacred nature
Alloy of a colder nomenclature

But beauty always finds a way
No matter the sunlight given through the day

To brake the bonds of a confined space
A battle so many in life have faced

Yet like a broke heart that only wants to decay
The side of the fence has a better light….and I want her to stay.

Awake in my ExistenceLive through others in your proxy
You challenge existence without noises
The only thing you cannot fathom
Is the wakening of your boredom

Awake a life full of illusions
Crave for another lost sweet union
On a realm of cruel destruction
You whisper words of guilt and nonreaction

The frame of death float on your life
Not another hope for the lost souls
Desire, joy in your cortex will subscribe
Stand up choices who belong mentally yours.

InsaneA ring to drive me less insane
Then my essence now so profane
To hide from sight
The noxious blight
Of darkness deep inside my brain.

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GoneThe rain keeps falling
On the soil
His life is standing still
Stood there for hours
As nights turned to days
But there was nothing
He could do
She was gone
Never felt so alone
Until this time

Anger and frustration
Fill his days
Gestures to the sky
But there's no reply
No explanation
Why things turned out this way
No hope, the blood runs cold
Deep in his veins
No future, no salvation
Just despair and contestation

And he will never understand
And it won't pass
Why she was taken away
Before her time
And all the sacrifice in vain
Nothing in his life but pain
And it's unfair
And it's so cruel
That he never had a chanc

What You Leave BehindLook at me climb
I am so proud
Higher and higher
Faster and faster
Bigger and better
I’m a go-getter

Out of my way
It’s a new day
You’re way too slow
Too slow to climb
This mountain’s mine
I’m here to shine

Get off my back
You’re stifling me
I cast you down
Down to obscurity
Look at the time
I have to climb

Failing and falling
Further and further
You must be willing
To work a bit harder
Look! I’m at the peak
You seem so weak

Look at the view
I’ve finally made it
Have you heard the latest?
I am the greatest
I am on my throne
I am so utterly alone

What About The Cat?The windows closed, the curtains drawn
One last longing look, towards the telephone
But it won’t ring and he knows not why
Drifting in a world of his own, he says goodbye

Sometimes late at night, he would be watching
Other people pulling into their driveways
Disappearing into their houses, their sanctuaries
Each life a miracle in its own, but not his

Every morning, the same old routine
Wake up, wash and join the line
At the bus stop, like a rat caught in a maze
Slaving away, as his life would pass him by

All the right colleges, diplomas on the wall
Reflections of the days that passed away
Pictures, photos, his mother and fa

DreamsTilt your head
And rest it on my shoulder
Close your eyes
And wait for Morpheus’ tight embrace
Let go of your thoughts
And slowly drift away
I’ll follow you
And meet you in your dreams

And as I sit and daydream
Listening to your every heartbeat
You’ll struggle throughout
With the demons of your past
But I’ll be there
Right there, where you found me
And offer my heart
If you only let me
Step inside your life

And when you wake
To the early morning sunshine
To reach the peak
Of the mountain we are on
You’ll still find me
Lying right beside you
Follow me
And meet me in my dreams

Last ChanceAre you talking to me?
There is no one else
Hard to face the reality
Of talking with yourself
You can try to lie to the face
That stares back at me
But cannot escape the disgrace
And shrug it off silently

You’re a failure at what you do
Inconsistent and fragile
You lack the drive to come through
Admit it, it’s not a lie
Like a fish caught in a weir
There’s nowhere for you to go
There’s no one you can endear
You’ve reached the final plateau

From here, it’s straight on down
The highlight of your day
Nothing left but to drown
In emotional disarray
You can take a walk outside
And hope someone wil

New BeginningsStay awhile,
Take my hand and let’s float on by
In the clouds,
Catch the sun’s rays and be mesmerised
Flying high,
Look down below at the world beneath
Gravity
Leave behind what you’ve learned of it

There’s a time,
A time and a place for everything
Here and now,
Or somewhere else, change it on a whim
In the end
The outcomes may justify the means
After all
We are flesh and blood, not cold machines

In the air,
Embrace the wind and flow with it
Rain or shine
It doesn’t matter; it’s what we make of it
Leave this place,
Don’t look back, whatever you do
Hear my voice,
The eternal, soothing,

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Buried

by ~n-g-e, Sep 8, 2007, 8:22:18 AM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Traditional Fixed Forms

I’m lying ten feet underground
The penance for all the things that I’ve done
Can’t breathe, can’t see, clawing away
But the earth won’t give in
Buried alive, for things I don’t know
Suffocating underneath it all

Darkness surrounds this resting place of mine
My only company are these dying thoughts
I did not deserve this fate
For the sins I did not create
Something is pulling away at me
The horrific silence will not let me be

Why am I stuck here all alone
Where have all the people gone
Surely I had not been the only one
Through whom the tranquility came undone
Forgotten soul in an empty shell
Rotting away in this forsaken hell

I hear them digging, I might be saved
Or am I hallucinating, imagining salvation
The body is starving for illumination
Slipping away into a catatonic state
The flame of life slowly fades away
As the sun bursts through, it’s too late

Buriedby ~n-g-e

Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Traditional Fixed Forms

This was supposed to have been a metaphor, but I changed directions in the middle and then it went horribly wrong. It's one of the worst poems I have ever written (and it was originally supposed to have been a song, but I couldn't find music for it). Published on my blog in 2005 and pulled a few days later.

So why am I posting it here? I don't know, maybe as a reminder to myself of some of the crap I have managed to write over the years.

~Pyrox666xPheebs Sep 18, 2007

Its mot crap.. its different to what you write now but not crap...

i often ponder about your life... you dont give too much away

~n-g-e Sep 19, 2007

Meh, it's crap, trust me, I know crap when I write it

My life...my life is not as exciting as it used to be. These days, I'm an old, respectable member of the society, with a nice 14 hour a day job...in a stable relationship for over 3 years now...yeah...that's my life. My past on the other hand, well, that's kind of there in my poetry. Sometimes I miss the old me, but only sometimes

~Pyrox666xPheebs Sep 19, 2007

Hehe sounds exciting to me both ways

And old

? Your not old!!! How old are you

!?

hehe

and..

Its good you got past all the things in your past

And become the awesome guy you are today ^_^

~n-g-e Sep 19, 2007

How old? It's on my profile, I just made it a little bit difficult by writing it in Polish

But ok, I'll make it easy

I know that's not old, but it all depends on the frame of reference, to some people I'm an ancient fossil

~Pyrox666xPheebs Sep 19, 2007

Hehe

Lol thats what that gobbledegook actually said

teehee

Your not old ^_^ Rhiannon who's 8 said your not old until your 100

~n-g-e Sep 19, 2007

100? I doubt I'll live that long, but it's kind of reassuring

Going back to my life story...one of the reasons I say very little about it (or myself) is that if I told everyone everything, that wouldn't make me much of a mysterious persona, now would it?

And I'd like to think of myself as the mysterious type, lol.

~Pyrox666xPheebs Sep 19, 2007

hehe

i know what you mean

hehe

Your like... the guy in the dark.. standing by the street lamp but not in it with the dark long coat and the black cap

They know your there

but they dont know who you are

you just reek of mystery

~canticum Sep 15, 2007 Hobbyist Writer

crap = good fertilizer

~Tar1988 Sep 9, 2007

Actually, I have to agree with you. This is crap

well, compared to the jewels of poetry that you normally create that is.

~RMRippers Sep 8, 2007

to be quite honest i dont think thsi si your worst. it probably just feels like that because its not what you wanted it to be. but it is good in its own right

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