Strange Mental Currencies

[underwater]

alright...

*crying*

[Fruitacious B]

Originally posted by BarryJive:
[QB]But I was careful not to get blood on my girl pants.[QB]

Good call. No point in ruining a good pair of amazingly comfortable pants.

[StabMaster Arson]

Originally posted by Fruitacious B:
</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by BarryJive:
[QB]But I was careful not to get blood on my girl pants.[QB]

Good call. No point in ruining a good pair of amazingly comfortable pants.</font>[/quote]So, you find pants with absolutely no dick room 'amazingly comfortable', that says a lot about you.

[underwater]

hahahahahahaha...

*evil giggle*

[BarryJive]

love is the valuum of my life

words crumble
as my splintered mouth opens
and as my shattered voice begins to move
words crumble
as the cracked teeth moan
in a manner in which can
only be described as dry
so i dust it off, this old feeling
and words solidify
unite
and bind
but just as they reach
the crags of openess
words crumble
and I am left dumb.

[underwater]

wow. i'm glad someone turned this thread back into what it was supposed to be.

[underwater]

it's three in the morning. be merciful.

crashing down
intertwined
thoughts of doubts
consume my mind

the dust, it thickens
my stomach sickens
why can't i just leave well enough alone...

doubt has no mercy
on my sleepy mind tonight
i persecute anything and everything
that i can't make myself understand

completely unwelcomed is this void that i feel
i caused this
i brought it upon myself

trapped in successes of stale circumstances
i will burn as i hurt you
i will die to desert you.

[Fruitacious B]

*coming soon.

[BarryJive]

that poem sucks B.

[BarryJive]

...although I must say, it does portray certain feeling. a certain waiting sort of feeling very well. I makes want to read something, nad the more the anticipation builds the more excited I get. on second thought, nice poem B.

[Alpha]

Finally the night comes
with it's brief release

Arisen, free now to continue
Questing for the one who completes my soul

Upon ebony wings my spirit searches,
for a beacon shines through the dim
...Like a moth
...To a flame
...Drawn am I

Sensing your desire
of passion in your veins
Primal yearnings of your heart
Feelings pulsing upon your flesh

As cool as moonlight
I falter, only to caress your skin
Like a moth...
To a flame...
Drawn am I...

[the Butcher]

Not to get off subject, but please don't ever associate yourself with "ebony" Alpha. We all know what "ebony" is usually used to describe...and it's not a good thing.

But as for the poem...good.

[ April 13, 2004, 12:03 AM: Message edited by: the Butcher ]

[St. Anky]

Originally posted by the Butcher:
We all know what "ebony" is usually used to describe...and it's not a good thing.

Whats your damage little boy?

[Alpha]

One by one my bonds for us have been lessened and set aside for more that life can offer. Maybe in some sort of mangled fate this is what was meant to be. A predestined experience to learn from, and most importantly share. My reluctance of late is a budding interest in calls left unanswered, and interruptions from different lines. The truth of today is it has left me tired and afraid of you. I'm sorry it had to end but I've been taught to leave on a high note and not spoil the rinds of life. you are everything I wanted and am not old enough to need. You were a lit candle in darkness that surely would have swallowed me whole. Our paths have forked friend, we must go our seperate ways, I love you so much and it kills me I can't stay.

Don't ever change.

[ April 26, 2004, 01:39 AM: Message edited by: Alpha ]

[underwater]

*waits prepared to be reemed for existing as a stupid little high schooler*

Out the door. Through the hallway. Into another room. Stuck, stopped, at a window.

Layers of obstacles standing in my way, like layers of blankets blocking my breath. Smothered. My physical body is my life in retrospect. In retrospect, this room... It is whatever I am trapped within. A layer of suffocating blankets.

Getting out looks easy. It looks <u>so easy</u> . The leafing tree, new with spring, sitting outside that window... It seems so easily attainable. It is right there. I've gotten through that door, walked across that hallway, stumbled around the chairs scattered in that room... Standing at a window, staring at the face of my soul's freedom. I reach out to touch it, to feel one of the new, soft leaves... It's innocence lures me with a sick taunting, as my hand hits the window that blocks me from freedom and happiness.

The hand falls. It isn't mine, it couldn't be. This cold piece of flesh could never be part of me.

But it's still there, and I feel it's pain... Disappointment. Sheer disappointment. A pain like no other.

All it wanted, all I wanted, was to be free from this. Get out of here, breathe fresh air, escape being smothered, feel the freedom of an open parking lot containing a little red car, a set of keys to it's ignition, and a road that leads me as far away as I can get.

But this window, it disagrees...

Smash it. Destory it. It supplies no way to open it, so I will make my own way.

The thick glass would prevent my weak knuckles on a disappointed hand from creating any sort of opening. A paper-weight, a porcelain mug, a computer for God's sake... Anything. Anything that can break that barrier.

Without warning, that downtrodden limb, a hand plagued and posessed, reaches for anything, everything... anything it can find to accomplish it's task.

A shatter. Glass flies. Warm air rushes in, invading the artificial, air conditioned atmosphere.

Two seconds, and it is over.

My freedom comes from crawling through broken glass, escaping far from unscathed. Left with bloody appendages that are barely alive enough to feel the pain. Or maybe they just don't care.

Maybe as my feet hit the soft grass outside the window, a few feet away from that leafed symbol of freedom, I realize that I can't feel the earth beneath me... I can't feel the glorious sun radiating happiness upon my artificially UV-kissed cheeks... And I realize that no smile has formed between them.

No form of freedom is truly attainable. I broke free, or so I thought... For I still feel nothing.

Or perhaps I only broke free of a single layer. One smothering blanket has been detangled from the seventeen others. I am able to breathe no better.

So I will stay here, then... Confined to this chair. Trapped in a placid box of a room. Smothered by 18 blankets. Each selfishly, maliciously soaking up my precious Oxygen.....

[silver and cold]

Im suffocating from all this place hasn't to offer, being held down by its force, pleading to be free from this hell, when everyone is breathing down my neck, telling me I dont amount to shit, they all tell you how much they will be there for you, when they only look you in the eye,to try to ignore the wounds on your wrists.

[Saint DH]

Darkness surrounds me.
Where am I going?
How will I get there?
Then I see it--
a Light.
How nice.

It might not be the best, but feel free to blow me.

Oh yeah, I don't know if anyone else feels this way, but I heard that poems were "supposed" to be as many feelings/thoughts put together in as few words as possible.

[ May 27, 2004, 11:20 PM: Message edited by: Dirty Harry ]

[Alpha]

Originally posted by Dirty Harry:
Oh yeah, I don't know if anyone else feels this way, but I've always thought that poems were "supposed" to be as many feelings/thoughts put together in as few words as possible.

According to what?

[Saint DH]

My English prof...I quoted the word supposed because I understand that poetry is art, and it can be whatever the fuck you want it to be...Anyways, I was just asking a question.

[ May 27, 2004, 01:55 PM: Message edited by: Dirty Harry ]

[silver and cold]

you walk hand in hand with the one you love, when i walk hand in hand with reality, no one is ment to be happy, but you cant see that, to busy puting on your other personality, your fantisy life is great, and your disguise is remarkable, but that ugly truth lives in you, what will they say, the beauty queen has fallen, what will you do when you hit the bottom, your friends are all gone, and your left face to face with your fear of being alone, being on the other side of the knife, taking the pain, while they twist the blade into your spine.

[Jesus Chrystler]

I know everything and you know nothing
I need to shut up and get a good butt-fucking
if you've got a question, I've got the answer
If only I were hotter, I'd could be an exotic dancer
but, alas, I'm not so I'll feign superiority
and hope that someone buys my authority
if they don't I'll go back to agreeing with the majority
but looking deeper than I am, for now, is my priority
I've got it all figured out at only 17 years old
god bless you all. sincerely, Silver and Cold

[BarryJive]

There is an unkempt and rusty locomotive running wild
Through the wastelands of someplace up north.
And as it barrels down the tracks, shedding parts
Each car rumbles by, filled with strange cargo.
Iron clad desires mixed with blazing hot wishes
And the coal dust settles down around
The things that have never been.
The emptiness gives way to the
Chatter of un-oiled parts mumbling something about a mutiny.
Though ticket prices have plummeted
No one wants to pay.

…it screeches to a halt in old mining town called Deprivation, Alaska.

The scraggly leader of this
Yet to be determined but
Still quite ill fated expedition,
Snarls an “allaboard”.
In a deep whiskey burned bravado,
He slurs his reticent idiom into one word as tumbleweeds of paper,
Unclaimed information, blow by, to the sounds
Of wailing, and the “caw” of a lone crow.
The engineer glances at his busted watch
And is not surprised when
No one gets on.

[Niger Angelus]

The restless spirit is fleeting
Only restlessness remains
In our poor animations called Life
We get on our knees
Find our faith
Live blindly and fall into the earth
To lie cold
Alone

[No Name Maddox]

MAN'S SON

Now I'm lookin' right here, inside myself
I've got my eyes closed
I'm looking backward through my brain
Thinkin' about what I'm thinkin' about
Wonderin' if there is an insane
Talkin' about a whisper
Whisperin' in my mind
Talkin' about forever
Beyond illusions of time
Talkin' about forever and ever and ever
Beyond all illusions
Faith so hard is mine
And I was just a man's son
And I was any old one
Of a million million million
in the minds of all I see

[silver and cold]

Hugging you tightly, wishing I could strangle you, I want to kill, what you have become, what your trying to make me, it's not worth the pain, to stay this way, but it's not worth the pain to end it, I'm numb from trying to fight this, and I'm bruised by your quick defense, I feel like we've ran, out of touch, out of mind, out of reach.