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2194 lines
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<20><> <20> <20> <20> <20> Ŀ
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<20><><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD> <20> <20> <20> <20><><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD> <20> <20><><EFBFBD> <20> <20>
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<20><><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD> <20> <20> <20> <20><> <20> <20> <20> <20> <20> <20><><EFBFBD>
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<20><><EFBFBD> <20> <20><><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD> <20> <20> <20><><EFBFBD>
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<20><> <20><>
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<20> electronic literary 'zine <20>
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*<2A><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>*
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<20> <20>Ĵ volume nine <20><><EFBFBD> <20>
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*<2A><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>*
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stop plagiarism - let out your soul
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Copyright 4/96
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<20> <20><>compiled & edited by Twilight<68><74> <20>
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<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
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* All literature presented herein is copyrighted by their respective authors *
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<EFBFBD> Table of Contents <20>
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<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
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1. Adultery - Ray Heinrich
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2. Amanda - Medea
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3. And On The Second Day - Stephen Lush
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4. Annoyed And Numb - Stephen Lush
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5. Bitter Garland - C. Dianne Long
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6. Blind Date - C. Dianne Long
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7. Bottom - Tool
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8. Bound - Twilight
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9. Concrete - Ray Heinrich
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10. Darkness - Renee Medeiros
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11. Dyers Eve - James Hetfield
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12. Event - Sylvia Plath
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13. Flood - Tool
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14. In A Darkened Room - Sebastian Bach, Rachel Bolan & Dave Sabo
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15. Let Me Go - Twilight
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16. Lucidity - LaceyL@aol.com
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17. Maybe Solo - Stephen Lush
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18. Mental Cases - Winfred Owen
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19. My Black Shoe - Eu-Ming Lee
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20. Overabundance - Autumn Silver
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21. Passion - Zac Maloy
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22. Please Come To Boston - D. A. Loggins
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23. Psycho Love - Rachel Bolan
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24. Quicksand Jesus - Rachel Bolan & Dave Sabo
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25. Routine 1996 - Victor Saunders
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26. Sober - Tool
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27. Somber Locket - Medea & Hecate
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28. Sweet Beyond - Zac Maloy
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29. Sylvia Plath Is My Mother - Ray Heinrich
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30. The Poet In Pain - Winfred Owen
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31. Untitled - HappyMonk
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32. Untitled - HappyMonk
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33. Untitled - Molina
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34. Untitled - Molina
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35. Untitled - Quinn@adren.net
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36. Untitled - Rob@adren.net
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37. Untitled - Tempest
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38. Untitled - Eddie Vedder
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39. Wasted Time - Sebastian Bach, Rachel Bolan & Dave Sabo
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40. When She Was Free - Quinn@adren.net
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<EFBFBD> Including Quotes From:
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Tori Amos, 'V. C. Andrews', 'Cliff Notes', Ralph Waldo Emerson, _Ferris
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Bueller's Day Off_, Dana Gould, Ray Heinrich, Jimi Hendrix, 'Mademoiselle',
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Mary McCarthy, Joyce Carol Oates, Winfred Owen, Anne Rice, Alix Kates
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Shulman, _The Simpsons_, and Oscar Wilde
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<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
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Adultery
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<EFBFBD> Ray Heinrich
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<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
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your breasts were just the right size
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just the right brown
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for the light
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one window away
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balanced between
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the two parts of a day
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our love
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innocent
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but only to us
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and they
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could always be waiting outside
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but not in this room
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where two months rent
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was more than enough
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for eternal love
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for your breasts
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the right size of my hands
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your breasts
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that sucked firm in my mouth
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and the constant surprise
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of your thin sweet milk
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as his baby
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slept quietly beside us
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<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
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Ray is an ex-Texas technofreak and hippie-socialist wannabe. He writes poems
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for thrills and attention, likes dogs, and owns a blue fish. He published his
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first chapbook by secretly placing copies in local bookstores and libraries.
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His poems have appeared in CrossConnect, Morpo Review, So It Goes..., Sand
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River Journal, 33 Review, BiSexual Journal, billetdoux, Droplet Journal,
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Sub-UrbanTerrain, No Trace, Biopsy, his own "Word Biscuit E-letter" and
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elsewhere. An electronic edition of his chapbook: "lots more damn poems"
|
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(Word Biscuit Press) is available free via e-mail.
|
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Send e-mail/requests to: ray@vais.net
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"A poem is written first in its writer's language. When you read it, you are
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translating it into your own language. Which act requires more skill and
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creativity, depends on the individual writer or reader." <20> Ray Heinrich
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Amanda
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<EFBFBD> Medea
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<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
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Superstitous and on the prowl,
|
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blonder and blonder holds the black down.
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Kissing the universal nemesis, while we close our eyes,
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first and forever he was my garbage boy.
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Shut the door as I choke in his darkness,
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pretend not to hear him admiring my name.
|
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Lodged in your throat is the look of a whore.
|
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Sometime in candlelight I'll want to play,
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because first and forever he was my garbage boy.
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And On The Second Day
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<EFBFBD> Stephen Lush
|
|||
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<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
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today is the day to end all days
|
|||
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with sinking blood and vertigo
|
|||
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and hallucinations of what I thought of you
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|||
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rigor sets into what we know
|
|||
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and flashing lighthouses boast the brightest noise
|
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crumbling
|
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shapelessly into
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the sea
|
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and pits of disease and death shriek
|
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in bastardized monotone, ominous thunderings
|
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they set us free into the night
|
|||
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they thought we knew what was right
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chalices on a lace centerpiece
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nine levels of babylon,
|
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no one speaks the common thread
|
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I can't tell the live
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from the
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dead
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bury your friends in the sand
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(they'll be safe there)
|
|||
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as glass was formed on a european beach
|
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somewhere near the heart of the world
|
|||
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a gull cries dear to the end of my soul
|
|||
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erosion shatters and shakes, sincere but slow
|
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when the one became two
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in heaven's rain
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i'll never know
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|||
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so i looked inside
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the curled shell i found
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something alive poked out
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and i let it go
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it cratered the wet grain
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and i saw it go
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colossus nightmares
|
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of large feet alone on windtorn spyres
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jagged ankles pointing into a forlorn sky
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commerce below
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in italy it rained
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in reykjavik it snowed
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colossus fell into the abyss
|
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the mistakes of the day
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are the fears of the night.
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Annoyed And Numb
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<EFBFBD> Stephen Lush
|
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<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
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the day is laced with novocaine
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there are no stars from where I stand
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given up in such a short time
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maybe I should have talked with that girl
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some dreams aren't meant to come true
|
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I wonder where we are
|
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wondering if I is a plural
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stuck in the divots in the lawn
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wishing for my own song
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listening on where I don't belong
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creatures frolic in the newborn sound
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and I don't even know
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caterpillars and centipedes crawling around
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I built this lonely Friday night for you
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its worn to the ground like a soleless shoe
|
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if its such a success to live, why don't I fly?
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at least I have feeling
|
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but it's such a bowl of dust
|
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I could be blown apart by one gust
|
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I smoke like my father now
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it's only a matter of time
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it blends together and scoots along too fast
|
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sometimes I like bad music
|
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with the passion that never lasts
|
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the people have been set to shuffle
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the people have been set to shuffle
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london bridge is falling down
|
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and I'm never sure when things are supposed
|
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to be the same
|
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except with you
|
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my heart is anchored to your drying cement
|
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it would take so little
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to forget what I meant.
|
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"I'm the one who has to die when it's time for me to die, so let me live
|
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my life - the way I want to." <20> Jimi Hendrix
|
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Bitter Garland
|
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<EFBFBD> C. Dianne Long
|
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<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
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Don't look at me I said
|
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You won't see
|
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my beautiful dress.
|
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|
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Hours of needle and thread
|
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Fingers pricked
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healed but scarred.
|
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You can't see what I've done
|
|||
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The perfect hem
|
|||
|
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underneath.
|
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|
|||
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Only the frills and lace show
|
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Not the seam
|
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sewn arrow straight.
|
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You'll only see
|
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The flowers and bows
|
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not the lining.
|
|||
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|
|||
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You don't deserve to see
|
|||
|
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Such a beautiful dress
|
|||
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worn only on Sunday.
|
|||
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|
|||
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The beauty is embedded
|
|||
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In the fabric
|
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pressed neatly smooth.
|
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Don't look at my dress
|
|||
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You won't see its beauty
|
|||
|
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until crumpled on the floor.
|
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|
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|
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|
|||
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|
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"I have never heard of an ex-feminist. Ex-Communists, ex-Moonie,
|
|||
|
|
ex-convicts, but no ex-feminists. Once that light goes on at whatever
|
|||
|
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age, it remains on." <20> Alix Kates Shulman
|
|||
|
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|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
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|
|||
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|
|
|||
|
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Blind Date
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> C. Dianne Long
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Silver taped
|
|||
|
|
blowhole
|
|||
|
|
roped feet and hands
|
|||
|
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broken glass
|
|||
|
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swollen eye
|
|||
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purple nose
|
|||
|
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bloody thighs
|
|||
|
|
shiny watch still
|
|||
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in place
|
|||
|
|
tissue ripping
|
|||
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|
fingers gripping
|
|||
|
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my own flesh
|
|||
|
|
was it
|
|||
|
|
the two drink
|
|||
|
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minimum
|
|||
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or my short skirt
|
|||
|
|
or the girl
|
|||
|
|
that stood him up
|
|||
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either way
|
|||
|
|
I'm here
|
|||
|
|
its done
|
|||
|
|
and
|
|||
|
|
each night
|
|||
|
|
a part of me cracks open
|
|||
|
|
and dies
|
|||
|
|
wondering why
|
|||
|
|
As he
|
|||
|
|
continues to
|
|||
|
|
tip
|
|||
|
|
the waitresses.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Bottom
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Tool
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Impression is broken now. The wounds, they're erupting now.
|
|||
|
|
Desire is broken now. Makes me feel ugly.
|
|||
|
|
I'm on my knees and burning; my fits and moans are human.
|
|||
|
|
I set my head on fire. Smell my soul, it's burning.
|
|||
|
|
Broken, lookin' up, I see the enemy.
|
|||
|
|
And I have swallowed the poison you bein' me
|
|||
|
|
But I survive on the poison of bein' me
|
|||
|
|
Guilt within. Hatred within. Weakness within.
|
|||
|
|
And it makes me feel ugly.
|
|||
|
|
I'm on my knees and burning, my fits and moans are human.
|
|||
|
|
I set my head on fire. I'm dead inside.
|
|||
|
|
Shit adds up at the bottom.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
If I let you, you would make me destroy myself. In order to
|
|||
|
|
survive you, I must first survive myself. I can sink no
|
|||
|
|
further, and I cannot forgive you. There's no choice but to
|
|||
|
|
confront you, to engage you, to erase you. I've gone to great
|
|||
|
|
lengths to expand my threshold of pain. I will use my
|
|||
|
|
mistakes against you. There is no other choice. Shameless
|
|||
|
|
now. Nameless now. Nothing now. No one now. But my soul
|
|||
|
|
must be iron 'cause my fear is naked. I'm naked and fearless,
|
|||
|
|
and my fear is naked.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Dead inside...
|
|||
|
|
Nameless now. Shameless now. Nothing now. No one now.
|
|||
|
|
(Shit adds up) As you see me naked now. Fearless now.
|
|||
|
|
Naked now. Fearless now.
|
|||
|
|
(Shit adds up) It leaves me dead inside. Dead inside.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Hatred keeps me alive. Hunger has kept me alive.
|
|||
|
|
Weakness keeps me alive. Guilt keeps me alive at the bottom.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"I've got enough guilt to start my own religion." <20> Tori Amos
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Bound
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Twilight
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
pierced gushy eyes -
|
|||
|
|
staring, pins outward,
|
|||
|
|
sharp points.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
running waterfalls -
|
|||
|
|
mixed clear and crimson,
|
|||
|
|
interweaving pink.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
dripping onto chestplate -
|
|||
|
|
seeping into heart,
|
|||
|
|
shaping funnels.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
velvet-red like a robin's breast -
|
|||
|
|
furiously bright,
|
|||
|
|
but tenderly sore.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
eager to rise -
|
|||
|
|
aflight with broken wings,
|
|||
|
|
but leaden down.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
punch through the alloy cage -
|
|||
|
|
from tarnished wire,
|
|||
|
|
to another light.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"Eternally may sad waves wail his death,
|
|||
|
|
Choke in their grief 'mongst rocks where he has lain,
|
|||
|
|
Or heave in silence, yearning with hushed breath,
|
|||
|
|
While mournfully trail the slow-moved mists and rain,
|
|||
|
|
And softly the small drops slide from weeping trees,
|
|||
|
|
Quivering in anguish to the sobbing breeze." <20> Winfred Owen
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Concrete
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Ray Heinrich
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
a condominium on the 23rd floor
|
|||
|
|
one with a balcony
|
|||
|
|
is NOT the place
|
|||
|
|
for a poet
|
|||
|
|
or even someone who pretends to be
|
|||
|
|
a poet
|
|||
|
|
you see
|
|||
|
|
there is a sliding glass door to the balcony
|
|||
|
|
and you open it and walk six feet
|
|||
|
|
to the railing which is three feet high
|
|||
|
|
and look down
|
|||
|
|
23 floors
|
|||
|
|
to
|
|||
|
|
pavement
|
|||
|
|
concrete with gravel
|
|||
|
|
that gives it
|
|||
|
|
a little texture
|
|||
|
|
makes it
|
|||
|
|
seem hospitable
|
|||
|
|
but
|
|||
|
|
from 23 floors up
|
|||
|
|
it
|
|||
|
|
is just as hard
|
|||
|
|
as life
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"We all enter this world in the same way: naked, screaming, soaked in blood.
|
|||
|
|
But if you live your life right, that kind of thing doesn't have to stop
|
|||
|
|
there." <20> Dana Gould
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Darkness
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Renee Medeiros
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
a man
|
|||
|
|
with broad shoulders
|
|||
|
|
huge eyes
|
|||
|
|
glowing
|
|||
|
|
a frightening shade of red,
|
|||
|
|
dressed in black.
|
|||
|
|
I see him walking
|
|||
|
|
with a light step.
|
|||
|
|
He floats,
|
|||
|
|
above a fog
|
|||
|
|
a black cloud.
|
|||
|
|
He reaches out
|
|||
|
|
His long, thin, pale hand,
|
|||
|
|
grasping for something,
|
|||
|
|
I will not give up.
|
|||
|
|
He speaks,
|
|||
|
|
with a whisper
|
|||
|
|
barely audible,
|
|||
|
|
yet able to shatter glass
|
|||
|
|
With a voice,
|
|||
|
|
sharp and cold,
|
|||
|
|
my name.
|
|||
|
|
We face,
|
|||
|
|
each solid
|
|||
|
|
brave.
|
|||
|
|
He smiles,
|
|||
|
|
a toothy grin,
|
|||
|
|
in a drawn face,
|
|||
|
|
lips scarlet
|
|||
|
|
his mouth a dark hole.
|
|||
|
|
He opens his arms,
|
|||
|
|
thin and long.
|
|||
|
|
I feel the fog
|
|||
|
|
at my feet.
|
|||
|
|
He pleads,
|
|||
|
|
for me to join him
|
|||
|
|
I am alone
|
|||
|
|
I am not afraid
|
|||
|
|
I do.
|
|||
|
|
We embrace
|
|||
|
|
becoming acquainted
|
|||
|
|
becoming friends.
|
|||
|
|
He offers
|
|||
|
|
to keep me company
|
|||
|
|
a companion
|
|||
|
|
another man to embrace
|
|||
|
|
to become a family.
|
|||
|
|
I smile,
|
|||
|
|
I am not alone,
|
|||
|
|
I know him
|
|||
|
|
too well to distrust.
|
|||
|
|
He turns
|
|||
|
|
calls forth
|
|||
|
|
his friend
|
|||
|
|
Death.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Dyers Eve
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> James Hetfield
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Dear Mother
|
|||
|
|
Dear Father
|
|||
|
|
What is this hell you have put me through
|
|||
|
|
Believer
|
|||
|
|
Deceiver
|
|||
|
|
Day in day out live my life through you
|
|||
|
|
Pushed onto me what's wrong or right
|
|||
|
|
Hidden from this thing that they call life
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Dear Mother
|
|||
|
|
Dear Father
|
|||
|
|
Every thought I'd think you'd disapprove
|
|||
|
|
Curator
|
|||
|
|
Dictator
|
|||
|
|
Always censoring my every move
|
|||
|
|
Children are seen but are not heard
|
|||
|
|
Tear out everything inspired
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Innocence
|
|||
|
|
Torn from me without your shelter
|
|||
|
|
Barred reality
|
|||
|
|
I'm living blindly
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Dear Mother
|
|||
|
|
Dear Father
|
|||
|
|
Time has frozen still what's left to be
|
|||
|
|
Hear nothing
|
|||
|
|
Say nothing
|
|||
|
|
Cannot face the fact I think for me
|
|||
|
|
No guarantee, it's life as is
|
|||
|
|
But damn you for not giving me my chance
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Dear Mother
|
|||
|
|
Dear Father
|
|||
|
|
You've clipped my wings before I learned to fly
|
|||
|
|
Unspoiled
|
|||
|
|
Unspoken
|
|||
|
|
I've outgrown that fucking lullaby
|
|||
|
|
Same thing I've always heard from you
|
|||
|
|
Do as I say not as I do
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Innocence
|
|||
|
|
Torn from me without your shelter
|
|||
|
|
Barred reality
|
|||
|
|
I'm living blindly
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
I'm in hell without you
|
|||
|
|
Cannot cope without you two
|
|||
|
|
Shocked at the world that I see
|
|||
|
|
Innocent victim please rescue me
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Dear Mother
|
|||
|
|
Dear Father
|
|||
|
|
Hidden in your world you've made for me
|
|||
|
|
I'm seething
|
|||
|
|
I'm bleeding
|
|||
|
|
Ripping wounds in me that never heal
|
|||
|
|
Undying spite I feel for you
|
|||
|
|
Living out this hell you always knew
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Event
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Sylvia Plath
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
How the elements solidify!
|
|||
|
|
The moonlight, that chalk cliff
|
|||
|
|
In whose rift we lie
|
|||
|
|
Back to back. I hear an owl cry
|
|||
|
|
From its cold indigo.
|
|||
|
|
Intolerable vowels enter my heart.
|
|||
|
|
The child in the white crib revolves and sighs,
|
|||
|
|
Opens its mouth now, demanding.
|
|||
|
|
His little face is carved in pained, red wood.
|
|||
|
|
Then there are the stars - ineradicable, hard.
|
|||
|
|
One touch: it burns and sickens.
|
|||
|
|
I cannot see your eyes.
|
|||
|
|
Where apple bloom ices the night
|
|||
|
|
I walk in a ring,
|
|||
|
|
A groove of old faults, deep and bitter.
|
|||
|
|
Love cannot come here.
|
|||
|
|
A black gap discloses itself.
|
|||
|
|
On the opposite lip
|
|||
|
|
A small white soul is waving, a small white maggot.
|
|||
|
|
My limbs, also, have left me.
|
|||
|
|
Who has dismembered us?
|
|||
|
|
The dark is melting. We touch like cripples.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Flood
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Tool
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
All I knew. All I believe.
|
|||
|
|
Crumbling images no longer comfort me.
|
|||
|
|
Scramble to reach higher ground.
|
|||
|
|
Order and sanity something to comfort me.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
I'll take what is mine, hold what is mine,
|
|||
|
|
Suffocate what is mine, bury what's mine.
|
|||
|
|
Soon the water will come and claim what is mine.
|
|||
|
|
I must leave it behind and climb to a new place now.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
This ground is not the rock I thought it would be.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Thought I was high. Thought I was free.
|
|||
|
|
Thought I was there to find destiny.
|
|||
|
|
I was wrong. This changes everything.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Running away, got me running away.
|
|||
|
|
Now I'm running away.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
I'll take what is mine, hold what is mine,
|
|||
|
|
Suffocate what is mine, bury what's mine.
|
|||
|
|
Soon the water will come and claim what is mine.
|
|||
|
|
I must leave it behind and climb to a new place.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Water rises over me
|
|||
|
|
Said the water rises over me
|
|||
|
|
So will someone come deliver me
|
|||
|
|
But it seems they've come to punish me instead
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Die...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Ground break down right under me.
|
|||
|
|
Cleanse and purge me in the water.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
In A Darkened Room
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Sebastian Bach, Rachel Bolan & Dave Sabo
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
In a darkened room
|
|||
|
|
Beyond the reach of God's faith
|
|||
|
|
Lies the wounded, the shattered remains of
|
|||
|
|
love betrayed
|
|||
|
|
And the innocence of a child is bought
|
|||
|
|
and sold
|
|||
|
|
In the name of the damned
|
|||
|
|
The rage of the angels left silent and cold
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Forgive me please for I know not what I do
|
|||
|
|
How can I keep inside the hurt I know
|
|||
|
|
is true
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Tell me when the kiss of love becomes a lie
|
|||
|
|
That bears the scar of sin too deep
|
|||
|
|
To hide behind this fear of running
|
|||
|
|
onto you
|
|||
|
|
Please let there be light
|
|||
|
|
In a darkened room
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
All the precious times have been put to
|
|||
|
|
rest again
|
|||
|
|
And the smile of the dawn
|
|||
|
|
Brings tainted lust singing my requiem
|
|||
|
|
Can I face the day when I'm tortured
|
|||
|
|
in my trust
|
|||
|
|
And watch it crystalize
|
|||
|
|
While my salvation, it crumbles to dust
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Why can't I steer the ship before it hits
|
|||
|
|
the storm
|
|||
|
|
I've fallen to the sea but still I swim
|
|||
|
|
for shore
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Tell me when the kiss of love becomes a lie
|
|||
|
|
That bears the scar of sin too deep
|
|||
|
|
To hide behind this fear of running
|
|||
|
|
unto you
|
|||
|
|
Please let there be light
|
|||
|
|
In a darkened room
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"Promises are like spiderwebs we weave to trap our own dreams, but dreams
|
|||
|
|
have a way of thinning out until you're left with nothing but the web."
|
|||
|
|
<20> 'V. C. Andrews'
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Let Me Go
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Twilight
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
why did you rush at me
|
|||
|
|
take away the gun from me
|
|||
|
|
it was so softly nestled
|
|||
|
|
in the fleshy pit of my temple
|
|||
|
|
why continue my ceaseless crying
|
|||
|
|
why pretend that you care
|
|||
|
|
with those falsely-lit pearly teeth
|
|||
|
|
lying through those teeth
|
|||
|
|
eyes glassed over in deceit
|
|||
|
|
but then why do they cry
|
|||
|
|
is it a lie
|
|||
|
|
why do you still want me here
|
|||
|
|
do you enjoy prolonging my suffering
|
|||
|
|
continuing this horrid thing
|
|||
|
|
that they - laughingly - call "life"?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
why did you grab my wrists
|
|||
|
|
wrap my wrists in gauze white
|
|||
|
|
they were so eagerly flowing
|
|||
|
|
in dark, peaceful crimson
|
|||
|
|
why bar my entrance to peace
|
|||
|
|
why pretend that you care
|
|||
|
|
with that selfish, sexual look
|
|||
|
|
eyes glazed over in lust
|
|||
|
|
carefully disguised as empathy
|
|||
|
|
is it a lie
|
|||
|
|
why do you still want me here
|
|||
|
|
do you enjoy prolonging my pain
|
|||
|
|
continuing this awful thing
|
|||
|
|
that they - jokingly - call "life"?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
why did you slap the bottle away
|
|||
|
|
why did you take my pills from me
|
|||
|
|
they were lovingly working wonders
|
|||
|
|
gently slowing down responses
|
|||
|
|
why continue this agony
|
|||
|
|
why even try to relate
|
|||
|
|
with that tongue that creates
|
|||
|
|
your own tragedies with make-believe
|
|||
|
|
tears cried, an actor's tears
|
|||
|
|
red and puffy from practiced plays
|
|||
|
|
is it a lie
|
|||
|
|
why do you still want me here
|
|||
|
|
do you enjoy prolonging my torture
|
|||
|
|
continuing this miserable thing
|
|||
|
|
that they - sardonically - call "life"?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
why did you run at me with the chair
|
|||
|
|
put the chair back underneath my toes
|
|||
|
|
i was dangling like a stringed puppet
|
|||
|
|
waiting for the curtains to close
|
|||
|
|
why won't you let me out of this dungeon
|
|||
|
|
why pretend that you don't have the key
|
|||
|
|
with that hand hid behind your back
|
|||
|
|
grinning unmercifully, playing keep-away
|
|||
|
|
from this monkey in the middle
|
|||
|
|
who only wants release from captivity
|
|||
|
|
is it a lie
|
|||
|
|
why do you still want me here
|
|||
|
|
do you enjoy prolonging my suffering
|
|||
|
|
continuing this masochistic thing
|
|||
|
|
that they - amusingly - call "life"?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
why can't you just let me go
|
|||
|
|
let me go in peace
|
|||
|
|
do you enjoy me in misery
|
|||
|
|
do you love the upper hand...
|
|||
|
|
or can it possibly be
|
|||
|
|
that you rush at me,
|
|||
|
|
grab at me, slap at me,
|
|||
|
|
run at me...
|
|||
|
|
because you actually
|
|||
|
|
love...
|
|||
|
|
me?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"When someone says 'Have a nice day', tell them you have other plans."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Lucidity
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> LaceyL@aol.com
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Falling, blinking, through beauty and lost time
|
|||
|
|
Crystal clear and the words connect within
|
|||
|
|
Familiar emotion nightwalks a chime
|
|||
|
|
The faint sound hints to me it will begin
|
|||
|
|
God take me to this far off glitter land...
|
|||
|
|
Symbol of empathy lies in a letter
|
|||
|
|
Soul of a man is in peace with his band
|
|||
|
|
One day we will meet, rest, peace and be better
|
|||
|
|
But do those who read this know where I'm from?
|
|||
|
|
You laughing, saying, "Beautiful Loser"
|
|||
|
|
Thinking of his outer looks make you cum
|
|||
|
|
How can you not look inside? - a chooser
|
|||
|
|
But now take me away - green hills and sun
|
|||
|
|
Where love is the power and all is fun
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Maybe Solo
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Stephen Lush
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
maybe your social life is better than mine
|
|||
|
|
maybe it isn't
|
|||
|
|
maybe we can meet halfway
|
|||
|
|
maybe we can rule the world
|
|||
|
|
maybe we can rule our trailer home
|
|||
|
|
maybe we can conquer our fears
|
|||
|
|
maybe we can shrug them off and have fun
|
|||
|
|
maybe we can lose ourselves
|
|||
|
|
maybe we can find ourselves
|
|||
|
|
maybe you could give me your name
|
|||
|
|
maybe you shouldn't tell me
|
|||
|
|
maybe it wasn't meant to be
|
|||
|
|
maybe it's all too perfect
|
|||
|
|
maybe I'm paranoid
|
|||
|
|
maybe I'm saner than most
|
|||
|
|
maybe you're jealous
|
|||
|
|
maybe I'm egotistical
|
|||
|
|
maybe you could give me some food
|
|||
|
|
maybe I can give you something back
|
|||
|
|
maybe you're better than me
|
|||
|
|
maybe you're stronger
|
|||
|
|
maybe you've found the way
|
|||
|
|
that I can see no longer
|
|||
|
|
maybe I get too much attention
|
|||
|
|
maybe I deserve what I have
|
|||
|
|
maybe I should give it away
|
|||
|
|
the guilt of owning what isn't to be had
|
|||
|
|
maybe we're allowed pride
|
|||
|
|
maybe that's something for others to hide
|
|||
|
|
maybe we can have just one wish
|
|||
|
|
maybe you could give me another kiss
|
|||
|
|
maybe you'll be my last reason
|
|||
|
|
maybe you'll be my last hope
|
|||
|
|
maybe I shouldn't have left
|
|||
|
|
maybe I shouldn't mope
|
|||
|
|
sometimes I think you're for me
|
|||
|
|
sometimes I think I'm for you
|
|||
|
|
at times we are uncertain
|
|||
|
|
at times we are uncool
|
|||
|
|
look deep inside my maybe soul
|
|||
|
|
and cherish it with care
|
|||
|
|
god forbid I lose what I live for
|
|||
|
|
maybe I shouldn't dare.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"Experience is the name everyone gives to their mistakes." <20> Oscar Wilde
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mental Cases
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Winfred Owen
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Who are these? Why sit they here in twilight?
|
|||
|
|
Wherefore rock they, purgatorial shadows,
|
|||
|
|
Drooping tongues from jaws that slob their relish,
|
|||
|
|
Baring teeth that leer like skulls' teeth wicked?
|
|||
|
|
Stroke on stroke of pain, - but what slow panic,
|
|||
|
|
Gouged these chasms round their fretted sockets?
|
|||
|
|
Ever from their hair and through their hands' palms
|
|||
|
|
Misery swelters. Surely we have perished
|
|||
|
|
Sleeping, and walk hell; but who these hellish?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
- These are men whose minds the Dead have ravished.
|
|||
|
|
Memory fingers in their hair of murders,
|
|||
|
|
Multitudinous murders they once witnessed.
|
|||
|
|
Wading sloughs of flesh these helpless wander,
|
|||
|
|
Treading blood from lungs tat had loved laughter.
|
|||
|
|
Always they must see these thigns and hear them,
|
|||
|
|
Batter of guns and shatter of flying muscles,
|
|||
|
|
Carnage incomparable, and human squander
|
|||
|
|
Rucked too thick for these men's extrication.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Therefore still their eyeballs shrink tormented
|
|||
|
|
Back into their brains, because on their sense
|
|||
|
|
Sunlight seems a blood-smear; night comes blood-black;
|
|||
|
|
Dawn breaks open like a wound that bleeds afresh.
|
|||
|
|
- Thus their heads wear this hilarious, hideous,
|
|||
|
|
Awful falseness of set-smiling corpses.
|
|||
|
|
- Thus their hands are plucking at each other;
|
|||
|
|
Picking at the rope-knouts of their scourging;
|
|||
|
|
Snatching after us who smote them, brother,
|
|||
|
|
Pawing us who dealt them war and madness.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
My Black Shoe
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Eu-Ming Lee
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
My girl, I know you're chanting
|
|||
|
|
your mantra again.
|
|||
|
|
Though your thin lips are still,
|
|||
|
|
and your blue eyes unwavering,
|
|||
|
|
their tautness and dullness
|
|||
|
|
reveal the secret song you sing.
|
|||
|
|
Though you turn your back
|
|||
|
|
and your gaze casts through me,
|
|||
|
|
I know your soul yet:
|
|||
|
|
Taut tarnished brass harp string
|
|||
|
|
accidentally plucked by God's clumsy thumb--
|
|||
|
|
buzzing and wailing in ugly disharmony.
|
|||
|
|
I hear you, my girl, it's true:
|
|||
|
|
That jangle-toothed saw
|
|||
|
|
clawing your soul---
|
|||
|
|
you do not do, you do not do.
|
|||
|
|
Hear me out, my girl.
|
|||
|
|
My soul is noisy and rattles and wheezes
|
|||
|
|
like a sick horse, stomps around and lingers,
|
|||
|
|
that lame goat.
|
|||
|
|
Though more annoyance than music,
|
|||
|
|
you cannot deny our queer resonance.
|
|||
|
|
Listen, I don't want a mythic goddess,
|
|||
|
|
I just want my girl.
|
|||
|
|
For though the world
|
|||
|
|
may feast upon your words and noisy soul,
|
|||
|
|
forever---
|
|||
|
|
It is I,
|
|||
|
|
alone---
|
|||
|
|
who shall starve when no sensuous smile
|
|||
|
|
and no soft laughter
|
|||
|
|
shall sing---
|
|||
|
|
with me
|
|||
|
|
anymore, black shoe.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Overabundance
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Autumn Silver
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
morbid
|
|||
|
|
glistening
|
|||
|
|
tangled in my hair
|
|||
|
|
sliding off the curb
|
|||
|
|
in bloody puddles
|
|||
|
|
and the rain washing away
|
|||
|
|
the death
|
|||
|
|
to be replaced with pain
|
|||
|
|
tears burning through laughter
|
|||
|
|
smiling of death
|
|||
|
|
greet the reaper with a kiss
|
|||
|
|
and watch the blood flow
|
|||
|
|
white wrists with pink scars
|
|||
|
|
beneath anguished, dead eyes
|
|||
|
|
fingers idly stroking the gun
|
|||
|
|
hot metal warming cold hearts
|
|||
|
|
screaming inside my head
|
|||
|
|
until the explosion comes
|
|||
|
|
blood spattered on the walls
|
|||
|
|
screaming, screaming aloud
|
|||
|
|
laughter and sickness
|
|||
|
|
dead silence
|
|||
|
|
dead
|
|||
|
|
screaming
|
|||
|
|
morbid
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"Tragedy is the art form that revels in death as if death were a kind of
|
|||
|
|
transfiguring experience and not the portal to mere deadness."
|
|||
|
|
<20> Joyce Carol Oates
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Passion
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Zac Maloy
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He doesn't see her anymore, and yet she stands in front of him
|
|||
|
|
No communication, only empty words are spoken
|
|||
|
|
With a memory, she lingers on and on and on
|
|||
|
|
For a moment, she'll just close her eyes and drift away
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He doesn't see her anymore
|
|||
|
|
Somehow forgotten what it is he promised to be here for
|
|||
|
|
But there's something there, something left
|
|||
|
|
That keeps her by his side, close her eyes...
|
|||
|
|
She remembers the passion
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Doesn't feel her breath, her kiss, and yet she lies beside him
|
|||
|
|
No imagination, keeps two steps back - two steps back
|
|||
|
|
With a memory she lingers on and on and on
|
|||
|
|
For a moment she'll just close her eyes - remember when
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He doesn't see her anymore
|
|||
|
|
Somehow forgotten what it is he promised to be here for
|
|||
|
|
But there's something left, something there
|
|||
|
|
That keeps her by his side, close her eyes...
|
|||
|
|
She remembers.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She remembers him, she remembers why she came here
|
|||
|
|
from far away to find her way through fairy tales...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
He doesn't see her anymore
|
|||
|
|
Somehow forgotten what he promised to be there for
|
|||
|
|
But there's something there, something left
|
|||
|
|
Keeps her by his side
|
|||
|
|
Something there, something strong that keeps her hanging on.
|
|||
|
|
Close her eyes and they remember why it is they promise to be here
|
|||
|
|
Close her eyes
|
|||
|
|
She remembers the passion
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Please Come To Boston
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> D. A. Loggins
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Please come to Boston for the springtime
|
|||
|
|
I'm staying here with some friends and they've got lots of room
|
|||
|
|
You can sell your paintings on the sidewalk
|
|||
|
|
By a cafe where I hope to be working soon
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Please come to Boston
|
|||
|
|
She said "No, you come home to me."
|
|||
|
|
She said "Ramblin' boy, why don't ya settle down?
|
|||
|
|
Boston ain't your kind of town
|
|||
|
|
There ain't no gold and there ain't nobody like me
|
|||
|
|
I'm the number one fan of a man from Tennessee..."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Please come to Denver where the snow falls
|
|||
|
|
We'll move up into the mountains so high that we can't be found
|
|||
|
|
Yell "I love you"s echoing down the canyon
|
|||
|
|
And we'll lie awake at night 'til they come back around
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Please come to Boston
|
|||
|
|
She said "No, you come home to me."
|
|||
|
|
She said "Ramblin' boy, won't ya settle down?
|
|||
|
|
Boston ain't your kinda town
|
|||
|
|
There ain't no gold and there ain't nobody like me
|
|||
|
|
I'm the number one fan of a man from Tennessee..."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Please come to L.A., we'll live forever
|
|||
|
|
The California life alone is just too hard to bear
|
|||
|
|
We'll live in a house that looks out over the ocean
|
|||
|
|
And we'll see stars fall from the sky, livin' up on the hill
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Please come to Boston
|
|||
|
|
She said "No, you come home to me."
|
|||
|
|
She said "Ramblin' boy, won't ya settle down?
|
|||
|
|
Boston ain't your kinda town
|
|||
|
|
There ain't no gold and there ain't nobody like me
|
|||
|
|
I'm the number one fan of a man from Tennessee..."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"Life moves pretty fast. You don't stop and look around once in awhile, you
|
|||
|
|
could miss it." <20> _Ferris Bueller's Day Off_
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Psycho Love
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Rachel Bolan
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Check out Clementine
|
|||
|
|
Cleanin' needles in her wine
|
|||
|
|
Face down in her one-eyed world
|
|||
|
|
With her brain-dead valentine
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She'll be your zombie, your livin' dead
|
|||
|
|
Her sweet corruption
|
|||
|
|
It's gonna make you, gonna break you
|
|||
|
|
Ohh yeah, she said...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Haunt my house of pain
|
|||
|
|
And feel my psycho love
|
|||
|
|
We'll shine and pray for rain
|
|||
|
|
To heal my psycho love
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Legs at ten and two
|
|||
|
|
Chain her down that's what you do
|
|||
|
|
King Tut and snake-eyed slut
|
|||
|
|
In the pink but screamin' blue
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
I'll taste your crazy, you smell insane
|
|||
|
|
I'm just another ghost
|
|||
|
|
Inside your spirits hall of fame
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Haunt my house of pain
|
|||
|
|
And feel my psycho love
|
|||
|
|
We'll shine and pray for rain
|
|||
|
|
To heal my psycho love
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
As the warm smooth soul
|
|||
|
|
Chases through the cold silence of a body
|
|||
|
|
A body of touch not feel
|
|||
|
|
One question, is she a stone in the
|
|||
|
|
devil's garden
|
|||
|
|
Or a speck in an angel's dust
|
|||
|
|
Ashes to ashes
|
|||
|
|
And lust to lust
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She'll teach you true love
|
|||
|
|
Watchin' you turn blue, love
|
|||
|
|
She'll wrap you in a chokehold
|
|||
|
|
And suck your spirit dry
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"Sex without meaning is like sleep without dreaming."
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Quicksand Jesus
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Rachel Bolan & Dave Sabo
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She caught the melting sky
|
|||
|
|
It burned, but still the winter passes
|
|||
|
|
by and by
|
|||
|
|
To the other side
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
A slow parade of wind
|
|||
|
|
That blows through threes
|
|||
|
|
That wilted with the season's children
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Are we saved by the words of bastard saints
|
|||
|
|
Do we live in fear or faith
|
|||
|
|
Tell me now who's behind the rain
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
A maze of tangled grace
|
|||
|
|
The symptoms of 'for real' are crumbling
|
|||
|
|
from embrace
|
|||
|
|
But still we chase...the shadows of belief
|
|||
|
|
And new relgion clouds our visions of the
|
|||
|
|
roots of our souls
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Are we ashamed of our own fate
|
|||
|
|
Or play the fool for our own sake
|
|||
|
|
Tell me who's behind the rain
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
What do we need where do we go
|
|||
|
|
When we get where we don't know
|
|||
|
|
Why should we doubt the virgin white of
|
|||
|
|
fallen snow
|
|||
|
|
When faith's our shelter from the cold
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Quicksand Jesus, I'm so far away
|
|||
|
|
without you
|
|||
|
|
Quicksand Jesus, I'm so far away
|
|||
|
|
without you
|
|||
|
|
Quicksand Jesus, I'm so far away
|
|||
|
|
without you
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Quicksand Jesus, I need you
|
|||
|
|
Quicksand Jesus, I believe you
|
|||
|
|
Quicksand Jesus, I'm so far away
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"God offers to every mind its choice between truth and repose. Take which you
|
|||
|
|
please; you can never have both." <20> Ralph Waldo Emerson
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Routine 1996
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Victor Saunders
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Why have ya come to my confession box? Because you want to be absolved of
|
|||
|
|
your sins. I see. Before ya begin, I don't want no half-truths. I expect all
|
|||
|
|
your sins ta come a pourin out. What's that? I don't sound like a killer.
|
|||
|
|
How does a killer sound then? You don't know. What, like in the same way you
|
|||
|
|
don't know if I'm training a gun at your head from behind this partition. How
|
|||
|
|
do I know you're not doin the same? Because if you was, this conversation
|
|||
|
|
wouldn't be happenin. Know what I'm sayin. What do you mean it disgusts you
|
|||
|
|
that I use the holy order as a front to cover up my murderous lifestyle? Well
|
|||
|
|
ain't that just too bad. Anyway, let's stop fuckin around and get to the real
|
|||
|
|
reason you came here today. Oh be real, you've come here for something more
|
|||
|
|
than a confession my friend so don't lay that bullshit on me. You've come to
|
|||
|
|
me because you want someone killed. Yes, you're absolutely right, you don't
|
|||
|
|
have ta take this kind of talk from me. You can walk right out of here and
|
|||
|
|
get yourself another killer. But ya won't do that cause you know I'm the best
|
|||
|
|
there is. Do I enjoy putting you through this humiliation? No. There's not
|
|||
|
|
one thing about you I enjoy. If you want the truth, I'm indifferent to your
|
|||
|
|
existence. Within my life you're represented as a bundle of notes. To come
|
|||
|
|
here and imagine you are anything else is a mistake.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Just a little question before we begin. Do you have any problems with
|
|||
|
|
duality? What kinda question is that? Well it's a relevant question of
|
|||
|
|
course. For my information you don't have any problems with duality. That
|
|||
|
|
surprises me, cause when I met you and your bodyguards earlier, I could've
|
|||
|
|
sworn you were rude to me. You don't remember meeting me? Then perhaps you
|
|||
|
|
should cast your mind back to the guy who asked you why you were harassing
|
|||
|
|
the beggar sleeping in your office doorway. Ah, you remember now. You
|
|||
|
|
thought I was going to attack you. Is that why you had your bodyguards rough
|
|||
|
|
me up? It wasn't personal? What, so if I came round the other side of this
|
|||
|
|
partition and dished you out a beatin, you wouldn't think of it as an assault
|
|||
|
|
on your person? How would I like it if I found a guy sleeping in my front
|
|||
|
|
porch and the next minute, another guy steps up behind me? To be perfectly
|
|||
|
|
honest, I wouldn't mind. A man has to sleep somewhere. As for steppin up.
|
|||
|
|
The only person who was doin that was you and ya bodyguards. What do ya mean
|
|||
|
|
I don't arrive at my office every day with roaches beggin out front? What
|
|||
|
|
the fuck are you if ya ain't a roach?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
I should be careful in case a description of me falls on a homicide cop's
|
|||
|
|
desk. Well ain't that somethin, a big old gangster like yaself threatenin me
|
|||
|
|
with the pigs. Don't surprise me though, pig or gangster, you're all the same
|
|||
|
|
ta me. Anyway, if ya so friendly with the cops, how come ya don't get one of
|
|||
|
|
them ta do the hit for ya? It's none of my business. No, you're right, it is
|
|||
|
|
none of my business. Though it becomes my business when ya get your guards ta
|
|||
|
|
push me around while ya big up yaself in my face. It was a mistake? Keep
|
|||
|
|
makin em, man. No, that's not a threat. It's called good advice. You don't
|
|||
|
|
take advice from suckers like me. I commend your boldness, seein as none of
|
|||
|
|
your guards are around. For my information, they are around. You had three
|
|||
|
|
of them stake out the church in case anything went wrong? Yea, I guess you're
|
|||
|
|
right, my voice has gone all quaky - but then so would yours if someone
|
|||
|
|
reminded you that earlier you shot dead those same three guards. You don't
|
|||
|
|
believe me. Here, take a look at these; then tell me I'm lyin. Hey, you're
|
|||
|
|
shakin all of a sudden. See, I knew ya had a problem with duality. And there
|
|||
|
|
was you, all shy ta tell me, as if I was some kinda insensitive type who'd
|
|||
|
|
take advantage of a man who no longer had the luxury of three heavily armed
|
|||
|
|
friends to do his fightin for him.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Hold back the tears for the minute, my friend, and savor the cozy scene.
|
|||
|
|
Ah, almost brings a tear to my own eye. Hey, man, I know us two bein alone
|
|||
|
|
in here in my humble church is a beautiful moment, but there's really no need
|
|||
|
|
for so much tears. Oops, silly me. For a second I thought you was cryin
|
|||
|
|
cause ya felt the beauty of our moment together.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
I should have realized you were cryin cause you think I'm gonna blow ya
|
|||
|
|
away. Sorry, I'm a little insensitive ta some vibes. Ya know, they just
|
|||
|
|
don't get through. Anyway, ya can rest yaself, cause I ain't gonna shoot
|
|||
|
|
ya - well, not yet anyway. See, when I destroy, I create. Why ya lookin so
|
|||
|
|
down, man, you're in the presence of an artist who takes great pride in his
|
|||
|
|
work. Shit, when was the last time ya was in such company? Speak up, man,
|
|||
|
|
you're all mumblin on me. You've wet your crotch! Oh fa christ sakes, why
|
|||
|
|
didn't ya use the toilet like everyone else?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Why are ya passin me the collection box? Are ya makin a donation to the
|
|||
|
|
church restoration fund? Or are ya just hopin this little bribe will make me
|
|||
|
|
forget this morning's events? It's a gift. Thanks very much; I love
|
|||
|
|
gifts - except when they're not really gifts at all, but a bribe from a sad
|
|||
|
|
little sucker like yaself. No, please, there's really no need ta explain; I
|
|||
|
|
understand clear as crystal. See, I've had the misfortune to breathe the
|
|||
|
|
same air as the likes of you all my life. The greedy sucker who thinks he
|
|||
|
|
can solve any problem with a fat bundle of crisp notes. Sadly, my friend, I'm
|
|||
|
|
very flush on the cash front so I can't be bought. Though seein as you've
|
|||
|
|
given me this tidy sum, I'll see it goes to the charity of my choice - may
|
|||
|
|
even give it to the guy you kicked outta ya doorway this mornin. Hey, why
|
|||
|
|
are ya runnin ta the door? Don't ya know churches are always locked nowadays.
|
|||
|
|
Ya know, theft, vandalism. A defenseless priest like myself just can't be too
|
|||
|
|
careful.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
What's this ya throwin at me? Well lookie here. It's a fatter, crisper
|
|||
|
|
bundle of notes? Well thanks again. What is it for this time? New Year
|
|||
|
|
spirit, you say. How commendable. We can be friends? What ever gave ya
|
|||
|
|
that idea? Oh, of course, it's New Year's Eve, I forgot. Here, pull up a
|
|||
|
|
chair and join me in celebration. Oh, for christsake, stop fiddlin with the
|
|||
|
|
door and come and sit down. There, that's better. Sit yaself right down
|
|||
|
|
and ree-lax. So what was ya wishin for in the new year? Optimism and cheer,
|
|||
|
|
you say. Let's just clear the air with a little bit of reality. When you're
|
|||
|
|
celebratin and slappin each other on the back and shouting Hap-pey newoo
|
|||
|
|
ye-aragh and tellin everyone how ya gonna win the lottery and gonna get ridda
|
|||
|
|
the car and buy a bike and ride ta work and get fit and stop smokin and save
|
|||
|
|
more money and drink less and earn more and buy a bigger house and move to a
|
|||
|
|
better area and...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
And you'll do none of these things. You'll still be a fat, nicotine
|
|||
|
|
loaded, scared, confused, spiritually impoverished sucker. Though that
|
|||
|
|
wasn't the point I was goin ta make; that was just a little aside - ya know,
|
|||
|
|
somethin I had ta get outta my system. Anyway, what I was gonna say was this.
|
|||
|
|
When all you guys are havin a great time sayin all that ha-ppey new ye-ar
|
|||
|
|
stuff, there'll be: women bein raped, kids bein molested, people bein
|
|||
|
|
stabbed, people bein shot, people bein dumped by their family/friends/
|
|||
|
|
themselves, people livin in hell.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Hey, I'm sorry, have I put you on a downer? Here, have some holy water. Oh
|
|||
|
|
shit, I'm really sorry, man, someone must have put acid in the water
|
|||
|
|
receptacle by mistake. Wait til I see my assistant. Here use this cloth ta
|
|||
|
|
wipe ya face. Sorry, could ya say that again. What, with ya screamin and
|
|||
|
|
everything, I can't hear what ya sayin. Oh right, ya sayin ya need a hosp and
|
|||
|
|
not a cloth. What the fuck is a hosp? Look, if ya don't calm down, I won't
|
|||
|
|
be able ta hear ya, and if I can't hear ya, I can't help ya, can I. Now run
|
|||
|
|
it past me again. This time a little slower. Hosp? I ain't gettin ya man.
|
|||
|
|
Whatever it is ya tryna tell me, it's just a passin me by. Ya know flo...in
|
|||
|
|
right over my head.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Anyway, let's get back to the murder ya want me ta commit. Er, hallo, is
|
|||
|
|
anybody in? Ah, for christsakes, what is it now? Ya want me ta take you
|
|||
|
|
where? Look, stop screamin and flayin ya limbs around and tell me what it
|
|||
|
|
is ya want. Ya want me ta take ya to a hosp. Look man I don't wanna sound
|
|||
|
|
repetitive, but I thought we'd both agreed that hosp means very little ta me.
|
|||
|
|
Hosp? What is it, a word ya made up, like ya own kinda slang or somethin?
|
|||
|
|
Are you listenin ta me? Or are ya thinkin of a way to communicate hosp to me.
|
|||
|
|
Ah, whatever. The deal! Christ, I almost forgot about the murder you want me
|
|||
|
|
to commit on your behalf. Now go through the details slowly, an I'll repeat
|
|||
|
|
them back to ya. The ac-id h-as bur, burn, burn-t ya ska-in and ya ner-eed ta
|
|||
|
|
ger-oo to tha hos, hosp, hospit. The hospital! Christ, why didn't ya just
|
|||
|
|
say - aggh, I get it now, when you said hosp you meant hospital. Jesus, I'm
|
|||
|
|
so dumb sometimes. I should have realized acid burns flesh. Look, man, I'm
|
|||
|
|
really sorry. Ya not gonna hold it against me, are ya? I mean anyone can
|
|||
|
|
forget that if ya throw acid inta someone's face, it'll really fuck up their
|
|||
|
|
complexion. I mean you must have known. Why didn't you say something - oh
|
|||
|
|
shit, there I go again, forgettin myself. The receptacles they were - well,
|
|||
|
|
ya know what happened. Hey, look, I, er, take full er responsibility for
|
|||
|
|
what's, er, happened here today. I promise I'll, er, compensate you so to,
|
|||
|
|
er, speak. How's the acid coming along. Um, looks a bit sore. Does it hurt?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Ha ha ha - just a little joke. Ha ha ha. Come on, lighten up, it's New Year
|
|||
|
|
after all. That's better. Here, sit back down; let's have a chat. How ya
|
|||
|
|
soul shapin up? I hope it's clean, cause God don't like dirty souls. What's
|
|||
|
|
that? You'll give me anything I want if I let ya go. Anything I want. Umm
|
|||
|
|
that's quite a proposition. Tell ya what. How bout me and you havin a little
|
|||
|
|
talk about God, souls and the afterlife. You think that's a good idea?
|
|||
|
|
Great, then fire away.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Am I gonna kill ya? Are ya askin that question in relation to, er, God and
|
|||
|
|
the, er, afterlife? Was that a yes? It was - good. Now I want ta ask ya
|
|||
|
|
a very serious question. Are ya ready. OK. When ya dead do ya think ya have
|
|||
|
|
ta accept God's judgment? You wouldn't claim ta know what happens when ya
|
|||
|
|
die. Well that's unusually modest of you. The way you go on, I thought you
|
|||
|
|
had a direct line with the Almighty. Don't defame the word of God? Why not?
|
|||
|
|
After all, that's what he wants ya ta do. He wants ya ta make your own
|
|||
|
|
decisions. Ya know, be responsible for your own actions. Then again, you
|
|||
|
|
don't have ta do anything at all if ya don't wanna. Man, that's when all
|
|||
|
|
this God stuff gets real scary. Ya know, like when ya realize how ya think
|
|||
|
|
and how ya act is up ta you. Hey, I don't know how that makes ya feel, but
|
|||
|
|
it scares the shit outta me. I mean, most people think life's gonna be
|
|||
|
|
explained in some kinda post-death college. Though don't getta thinkin we're
|
|||
|
|
in anyway special now. Oh no, we're no more special than the roach ya rush
|
|||
|
|
from ya room.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Hey, get up of the floor, man. What do ya think this is, some kinda
|
|||
|
|
chillout bar? This is a church, and a church ain't no place ta lay around
|
|||
|
|
on tha floor. Sorry, I missed that, could you speak up. The pain from the
|
|||
|
|
acid made you faint. Oh, I really wish I could do something ta help ya.
|
|||
|
|
Prayer! Yea, I'll get on my knees and give ya some prayer. What do ya mean,
|
|||
|
|
ya don't want prayers, ya want a hospital. What a thing ta say to a man of
|
|||
|
|
the cloth. What are ya belly achin about now? So I'm not a man of the cloth,
|
|||
|
|
I'm a what? A dirty fuckin killer. Swearin and a cursin my church is very
|
|||
|
|
rude. How can I say that when I've murdered so many people within this modest
|
|||
|
|
chapel? I haven't murdered people. I've murdered arseholes. The location of
|
|||
|
|
their deaths is irrelevant. What do ya mean a church is a holy place? A
|
|||
|
|
church is just another buildin, and you, my friend, are just another arsehole.
|
|||
|
|
Does that mean I'm gonna kill ya? Well, of course it does. Christ, man, why
|
|||
|
|
do ya have ta do all that gibberin shit? I thought you was a big time
|
|||
|
|
gangster who feared nothing and nobody. Your family will hunt me down for the
|
|||
|
|
rest of my life. I see. Well you'd better give them this ticket so they'll
|
|||
|
|
know their place in the queue. At the moment, they're the 87th family in the
|
|||
|
|
'hunt me down for the rest of my life party'. Shame you won't be there.
|
|||
|
|
Please don't shoot ya. I have no intention of doin anythin of tha sort. I'm
|
|||
|
|
an artist, remember, and you, my latest masterpiece. Shoot you. Oh you are
|
|||
|
|
funny sometimes. Anyway, you should realize how I feel with you bein an
|
|||
|
|
artist yaself. Oh, come on, don't give me that puzzled look. Or perhaps
|
|||
|
|
it's modesty. Whatever it is, I know deep down you're an artist. Here, let
|
|||
|
|
me illustrate what I mean so there's no confusion.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Remember the time ya had ya guys carve up that young woman who borrowed a
|
|||
|
|
little of your small change so she could feed her kid? Man, that was pure art
|
|||
|
|
the way your guys bust into the bed, sit and cut out the defenseless woman's
|
|||
|
|
heart and stuffed it in the kid's mouth. Pure art. Then there was the time
|
|||
|
|
you rigged the guy to the scolding radiator and the time ya handed a guy a
|
|||
|
|
wood plane and told him ta plane his shin down ta an acceptable standard -
|
|||
|
|
pure genius. I could go on all day, but I need a little time ta match ya
|
|||
|
|
artistic endowment. Obviously I'll never be able ta match ya for such huge
|
|||
|
|
extravaganzas like the nail bomb that killed 120 people, or the way your guys
|
|||
|
|
filled up the local swimmin pool with acid and threw in a hundred or so
|
|||
|
|
tenants of a block ya wanted ta convert inta offices.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Though I'll attempt to balance the lack of quantity by fillin my work with
|
|||
|
|
quality and invention. Wow wow, ya have a gun. Where did ya get that?
|
|||
|
|
Put my hands up and walk out front so you can shoot me in my face. Now
|
|||
|
|
that's not a very nice way ta talk to a priest, is it. After all I've done
|
|||
|
|
for ya, I - okay, man, relax; I'm comin out. There, now ya can see me.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
I'd advise ya not ta pull the trigger. Am I sayin that cause I'm scared
|
|||
|
|
of dying? No, not at all; I'm tellin ya cause I've rigged it ta backfire
|
|||
|
|
and shower ya with tiny shards of glass. Bullshit, you say, then fire
|
|||
|
|
away.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Cut out that agonized screamin shit, man. I just warned ya what would
|
|||
|
|
happen, and ya chose to ignore me. Yea, I know it hurts when hundreds of
|
|||
|
|
tiny shards of glass stick in ya hands and face. Looks good though. The way
|
|||
|
|
the light filters through the stained glass and drifts across the glistening
|
|||
|
|
sores created by the acid. It really is a wonder to behold.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Aghh. Trust you ta spoil my work with a pain-filled grimace. Here, grimace
|
|||
|
|
some more. Oh, christ, I meant ta throw the water in your face. It was
|
|||
|
|
supposed ta be a joke. Hey, man, lighten up. Anyone can mistake acid for
|
|||
|
|
water. I mean, the acid's bright yellow, and the water, a kinda grey
|
|||
|
|
transparent color, er, if ya know what I mean. Anyway, ya won't have ta
|
|||
|
|
worry about screamin for much longer, cause I intend ta shoot ya pretty soon.
|
|||
|
|
Stop beggin, it was only a joke. Hey, come and sit round here. I wanna tell
|
|||
|
|
ya somethin. Er, excuse me, Mister. I'd prefer it if ya stopped all that
|
|||
|
|
pukin - it's, er, messin up tha floor.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
That's better. Now listen up and listen hard.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
I'm a killer, plain and simple. Why beat around the bush and pretend I
|
|||
|
|
wash cars or sell insurance? Lies are for the weak. I should know, I spend
|
|||
|
|
my time killing them. I, the killer of the liar and the traitor. What a
|
|||
|
|
moral job. When I get ta heaven, God himself will thank me personally for
|
|||
|
|
my contribution to cleaning away the scum. And who is the latest piece of
|
|||
|
|
filth ta be annihilated? Well, it's you, of course. Though not yet. Hey,
|
|||
|
|
you're right, eyes lookin really red and sore. I think ya should see a
|
|||
|
|
doctor. Shall I call one? Yes per-leeeze. I suppose that's a yes. It
|
|||
|
|
is - too bad I've already pulled the trigger.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
How many more of these suckers will I torture and kill before I am
|
|||
|
|
tortured and killed? No time ta speculate, next confession'll be along in
|
|||
|
|
five minutes. Better dispose of the body.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Into the furnace. One, two, three, up!
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
A smokin, my furnace is a smokin with the flesh of another bad boy sucker.
|
|||
|
|
Dah, dah, dah-oh yea.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Maybe the inside of this confession box could do with a lick of paint. I'll
|
|||
|
|
give it some thought later; here comes the latest guilt-loaded loser from a
|
|||
|
|
long line of guilt loaded losers.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Why have ya come to my confession box? Because you want to be absolved of
|
|||
|
|
your sins. I see. Oh, and before ya begin, I don't want no half-truths.
|
|||
|
|
I expect all your sins ta come a pourin out...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"In violence, we forget who we are." <20> Mary McCarthy
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Sober
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Tool
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
There's a shadow just behind me. Shrouding every step I take.
|
|||
|
|
Making every promise empty. Pointing every finger at me.
|
|||
|
|
Waiting like a stalking butler, who upon the finger rests.
|
|||
|
|
Murder now the path "must we", just because the sun has come.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Jesus, won't you fucking whistle
|
|||
|
|
Something more that's past and done
|
|||
|
|
Jesus, won't you fucking whistle
|
|||
|
|
Something more that's past and done
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Why can't we not be sober? I just want to start this over.
|
|||
|
|
Why can't we drink forever? I just want to start this over.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
I am just a worthless liar. I am just an imbecile.
|
|||
|
|
I will only complicate you. Trust in me and fall as well.
|
|||
|
|
I will find a center in you. I will chew it up and leave.
|
|||
|
|
I will work to elevate you, just enough to bring you down.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Mother Mary, won't you whisper
|
|||
|
|
Something more that's past and done
|
|||
|
|
Mother Mary, won't you whisper
|
|||
|
|
Something more that's past and done
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Why can't we not be sober? I just want to start this over.
|
|||
|
|
Why can't we sleep forever? I just want to start this over.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
I am just a worthless liar. I am just an imbecile.
|
|||
|
|
I will only complicate you. Trust in me and fall as well.
|
|||
|
|
I will find a center in you. I will chew it up and leave.
|
|||
|
|
Trust me...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Why can't we not be sober. I just want to start things over.
|
|||
|
|
Why can't we sleep forever. I just want to start this over.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
I want what I want...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"The blues isn't about feeling better... it's about making other people
|
|||
|
|
feel worse." <20> 'Bleeding Gums Murphy', _The Simpsons_
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Somber Locket
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Medea & Hecate
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
On the chest of the dark girl sits
|
|||
|
|
the blonde one
|
|||
|
|
braiding firefly bellies into bracelets.
|
|||
|
|
They seek the deepest understanding
|
|||
|
|
that can never be found.
|
|||
|
|
Even white suggests impurity
|
|||
|
|
if it's your brother's hands
|
|||
|
|
beneath the fabric.
|
|||
|
|
The silver moon is glinting its reflection of reality.
|
|||
|
|
Somewhere beside them all
|
|||
|
|
you can aquire the foulest desire
|
|||
|
|
to be amongst the dead.
|
|||
|
|
The only sins are committed before dawn.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"You've got to let go of innocence or it will take you down with it when it
|
|||
|
|
sinks like some old rotted shrimp boat on the canal." <20> 'V. C. Andrews'
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Sweet Beyond
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Zac Maloy
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
In the end...I lay the flowers, I lay the flowers down
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
I have bent my rules I have laid before me
|
|||
|
|
Falling deeper still than I ever thought I would
|
|||
|
|
and I would again
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
As we begin this journey, put your soul with
|
|||
|
|
Connected from this moment throughout life and death and time
|
|||
|
|
I would show you the deepness - if there was a sea forever
|
|||
|
|
I would give you the planets - if there was a way.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
In the End...
|
|||
|
|
If your life I should fail to save...
|
|||
|
|
I'll lay the flowers on your grave.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
As the years surround us, this will stay beautiful
|
|||
|
|
Through the change of appearance, love remains
|
|||
|
|
I would show you the vastness if there was a sky neverending
|
|||
|
|
I would give you the sunlight if there was a way.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
In the End...(I will be here)
|
|||
|
|
If your life I should fail to save...
|
|||
|
|
I'll lay the flowers on your grave.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
I have felt what I never conceived
|
|||
|
|
From here through sweeter beyond
|
|||
|
|
Impossible for words to bring you understanding
|
|||
|
|
I will be the one you see
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
In the End ... (I will be here)
|
|||
|
|
If your life I should fail to save
|
|||
|
|
In the End ... (I will be here)
|
|||
|
|
If before me you should leave this place
|
|||
|
|
I'll lay the flowers on your grave.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Sylvia Plath Is My Mother
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Ray Heinrich
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
sylvia plath is my mother
|
|||
|
|
i
|
|||
|
|
practiced cutting my finger like her
|
|||
|
|
a few weeks ago
|
|||
|
|
it was
|
|||
|
|
exactly as she said
|
|||
|
|
she
|
|||
|
|
is perfect
|
|||
|
|
the perfect poet
|
|||
|
|
risking everything
|
|||
|
|
and
|
|||
|
|
losing it
|
|||
|
|
and
|
|||
|
|
gaining it
|
|||
|
|
at the same time
|
|||
|
|
i look
|
|||
|
|
at her picture
|
|||
|
|
posted
|
|||
|
|
just to the right of my computer
|
|||
|
|
just beside gary snyder
|
|||
|
|
and the one
|
|||
|
|
smoothly lives
|
|||
|
|
and the other
|
|||
|
|
roughly dies
|
|||
|
|
but looking at the words
|
|||
|
|
left behind
|
|||
|
|
for all i know
|
|||
|
|
they sit side by side
|
|||
|
|
maybe even kiss me in my love for them
|
|||
|
|
mirror images
|
|||
|
|
reflecting paths
|
|||
|
|
down which
|
|||
|
|
any of us
|
|||
|
|
can go
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"Q: A friend makes tiny cuts on her arms with a razor. Why does she do this
|
|||
|
|
and how can I help her stop?
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
A: It sounds as though your friend is exhibiting what's called
|
|||
|
|
self-mutilating behavior. Some people - an estimated 7/1,000 (most of them
|
|||
|
|
women) - seem able to relieve stress only by injuring some part of their
|
|||
|
|
bodies. Most use razors or knives; some burn their skin or bang parts of
|
|||
|
|
their bodies against walls. A few hide their cuts and scars, but many hurt
|
|||
|
|
themselves in obvious places, perhaps as a cry for help.
|
|||
|
|
There are many theories about why this happens. Some women may inflict
|
|||
|
|
injury in an attempt to relive the emotional pain of childhood abuse.
|
|||
|
|
Others might do so to prove they have control over their bodies. The
|
|||
|
|
behavior is especially common amoung women with anorexia and bulimia.
|
|||
|
|
Your friend's cuts may not be life threatening, but you're right to be
|
|||
|
|
concerned. Urge her to get help; treatment usually involves a combination
|
|||
|
|
of psychotherapy and medication. For more information, call (800) DONT CUT,
|
|||
|
|
a help line run by the University Hospital of Chicago's S.A.F.E. (Self Abuse
|
|||
|
|
Finally Ends) Alternatives program." <20> 'Mademoiselle'
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The Poet in Pain
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Winfred Owen
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Some men sing songs of Pain and scarcely guess
|
|||
|
|
Their import, for they never knew her stress.
|
|||
|
|
And there be other souls that ever lie
|
|||
|
|
Begnawed by seven devils, silent. Aye,
|
|||
|
|
Whose hearts have wept out blood, who not once spake
|
|||
|
|
Of tears. If therefore my remorseless ache
|
|||
|
|
Be needful to proof-test upon my flesh
|
|||
|
|
The thoughts I think, and in words bleeding-fresh
|
|||
|
|
Teach me for speechless sufferers to plain*,
|
|||
|
|
I would not quench it. Rather be my part
|
|||
|
|
To write of health with shaking hands, bone-pale,
|
|||
|
|
Of pleasure, having hell in every vein,
|
|||
|
|
Than chant of care from out a careless heart,
|
|||
|
|
To music of the world's eternal wail.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
*plain: mourn, complain
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Untitled
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> HappyMonk
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
she told me all she knew
|
|||
|
|
in a dream, so softly
|
|||
|
|
i thought i knew her
|
|||
|
|
but whispers never stay
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
i told her all i meant
|
|||
|
|
promises made
|
|||
|
|
i thought i knew myself
|
|||
|
|
but whispers never stay
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
and now i've given up
|
|||
|
|
hope crumbled to sand
|
|||
|
|
going to that cold desert
|
|||
|
|
where whispers never stay
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Untitled
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> HappyMonk
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
you lead me through a barren sky
|
|||
|
|
and follow my trail of blood
|
|||
|
|
i've been here once before alone
|
|||
|
|
again that's where i'll go
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
they can all see how i feel
|
|||
|
|
of course you can as well
|
|||
|
|
inside out, forward's back
|
|||
|
|
still i endure this hell
|
|||
|
|
you're just as lost as i am
|
|||
|
|
pretend as though you aren't
|
|||
|
|
still i know you'll find it
|
|||
|
|
and know that you were wrong
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
need to love the one who hates me
|
|||
|
|
only hate the one who loves me
|
|||
|
|
time to change my pain erase me
|
|||
|
|
open hole through comes the bleeding
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
clouds down rain up window closed
|
|||
|
|
always not me you must know
|
|||
|
|
window through my blood i throw
|
|||
|
|
empty hand i show my soul
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"Trust brought such a relief to one, such a feeling of being connected, and
|
|||
|
|
that is how you let down your guard, and you can be destroyed." <20> Anne Rice
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Untitled
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Molina
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Boredom comsumes my every thought
|
|||
|
|
Attention span ran out long ago
|
|||
|
|
Thoughts digress to other things
|
|||
|
|
Faded memories take control
|
|||
|
|
Close my eyes to block them out
|
|||
|
|
The beautiful black and streaks of crimson
|
|||
|
|
Set into a clash of piano and guitar
|
|||
|
|
My mind sinks back to a world I don't control
|
|||
|
|
Seduction, lies, and happiness
|
|||
|
|
Submission, faith, and despair
|
|||
|
|
Swirling backwards and losing control
|
|||
|
|
Blindfolded to pain and sadness
|
|||
|
|
Falling down bruised and broken
|
|||
|
|
Attempting to pick myself up I stumble
|
|||
|
|
Shining brightly in my face
|
|||
|
|
I notice the light growing closer
|
|||
|
|
Eyes now open I look
|
|||
|
|
Trapped inside my head
|
|||
|
|
I try to get out...escape
|
|||
|
|
Pounding on the flesh, screaming for freedom
|
|||
|
|
Lying alone in the corner
|
|||
|
|
Crying, given up on all hopes
|
|||
|
|
My will disappears as the dust settles
|
|||
|
|
Aching with pain that should have passed
|
|||
|
|
The crying stopped long ago
|
|||
|
|
But still it tries to emerge
|
|||
|
|
My hateful heart ignores it all
|
|||
|
|
Wishing for personal destruction
|
|||
|
|
Turning instead to mental relief
|
|||
|
|
Chewing away the temporal world
|
|||
|
|
An array of colors and memory loss
|
|||
|
|
I settle back into my own existance
|
|||
|
|
Smiling, laughing, eyes open wide
|
|||
|
|
Time passes slowly but no longer hurts
|
|||
|
|
Temporary relief from life's frustrations
|
|||
|
|
A short time later I come back down
|
|||
|
|
Turning my back once again
|
|||
|
|
Longing for that freedom
|
|||
|
|
Stuck in darkness, silence, it consumes me
|
|||
|
|
Shivering, I relish in my pain
|
|||
|
|
Soak it in, enjoy the sensation
|
|||
|
|
Dancing to the beat of a different tune
|
|||
|
|
Now I feel somewhat better
|
|||
|
|
Pick myself up and dust off the grime
|
|||
|
|
Learning how to walk again
|
|||
|
|
For the first time seeing things as they are
|
|||
|
|
A sense of happiness washes over me
|
|||
|
|
I step outside for a breath
|
|||
|
|
Not realizing I've escaped my cage
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Untitled
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Molina
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Held the flower out.examined it.the soft petals tickled the palm of my
|
|||
|
|
hand.a droplet of dew escaped and ran down my flesh.so tender.so
|
|||
|
|
precious.I savored the smell.breathed it in deeply.such a sweet
|
|||
|
|
fragrance.reminded me of you.so i ate it.taking out my tensions.chewed
|
|||
|
|
on its sugar sweet innocence.i hated it.so delicate.so soft.i made it
|
|||
|
|
ugly.i wanted to ruin it.spit it out.such a sour taste in my mouth.like
|
|||
|
|
you.so much like you.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Untitled
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Quinn@adren.net
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
whisper softly
|
|||
|
|
your voice will carry
|
|||
|
|
rescue me from the shadows
|
|||
|
|
you can pull me back
|
|||
|
|
from the depths I've thrown myself in
|
|||
|
|
call my name
|
|||
|
|
I will hear you
|
|||
|
|
take me out of this darkness
|
|||
|
|
you can save me
|
|||
|
|
and maybe finally we both can win
|
|||
|
|
losing sight
|
|||
|
|
why do i give up
|
|||
|
|
is it worth the fight
|
|||
|
|
drifting into endless sleep
|
|||
|
|
it's painful to wake
|
|||
|
|
stay away
|
|||
|
|
it's just so much easier this way
|
|||
|
|
darkness all around me
|
|||
|
|
seeps into my very soul
|
|||
|
|
I hear you calling
|
|||
|
|
but it's too late
|
|||
|
|
I've lost control
|
|||
|
|
just let me go
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Untitled
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Rob@adren.net
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
you've got no reasons for the things you said
|
|||
|
|
but you can't keep your feelings to yourself
|
|||
|
|
and i can't find an answer to this emptiness
|
|||
|
|
no i can't find an answer
|
|||
|
|
and i wish that i was dead
|
|||
|
|
i never dreamt i'd hear your echo pounding in my head
|
|||
|
|
and though the tears have dried
|
|||
|
|
i'm ripped inside
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
i'll say i'm feeling fine
|
|||
|
|
but what's the use
|
|||
|
|
when nothing could be further from the truth
|
|||
|
|
oh where will i find comfort
|
|||
|
|
and strength to live again?
|
|||
|
|
if there's a God above then show me how the story ends
|
|||
|
|
if there's a God above then how could me desert a friend?
|
|||
|
|
because i feel so tired
|
|||
|
|
and ripped inside
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
you'll ache for me when your hands are tied
|
|||
|
|
you'll wish you lived in another time
|
|||
|
|
and if you're thinking the pain subsides
|
|||
|
|
there's no place to hide
|
|||
|
|
when you're ripped inside
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
there is no meaning in the things you did
|
|||
|
|
and you might still go round denying it
|
|||
|
|
if you could live that hour again would you resist
|
|||
|
|
or was i just another victim
|
|||
|
|
innocently picked?
|
|||
|
|
was i carefully selected or the next one on the list?
|
|||
|
|
to be cut down to size
|
|||
|
|
and ripped inside
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"There's no hate such as that born out of a love betrayed." <20> 'V. C. Andrews'
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Untitled
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Tempest
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
It rained once.
|
|||
|
|
It rained once, it was quite cold then.
|
|||
|
|
Sometimes, when she is clear of mind,
|
|||
|
|
She can remember it all.
|
|||
|
|
All the play in the rain.
|
|||
|
|
The water, the mud, the bodies in the sun,
|
|||
|
|
Unfamiliar feelings.
|
|||
|
|
And not all displeasing.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
It was warm once.
|
|||
|
|
It was warm, the children played,
|
|||
|
|
In the water, in the sun,
|
|||
|
|
Warm and running...free...
|
|||
|
|
Once.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
You were there once.
|
|||
|
|
She knew you, she knows you,
|
|||
|
|
You were her, once.
|
|||
|
|
She's everything you want to be,
|
|||
|
|
Everything you wanted to be,
|
|||
|
|
Everything you could be.
|
|||
|
|
You were everything she was.
|
|||
|
|
She'll always be in you.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She had power once.
|
|||
|
|
She had strength, courage,
|
|||
|
|
To hold us all up.
|
|||
|
|
It's all still there, and if you find her,
|
|||
|
|
You'll see it again.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She was lost once.
|
|||
|
|
She was lost, alone,
|
|||
|
|
How it was meant to be.
|
|||
|
|
You were not to live in her,
|
|||
|
|
Consumed by her, caught between walls.
|
|||
|
|
Once upon a time, she could dance,
|
|||
|
|
Between your mind, between your life,
|
|||
|
|
Untouched.
|
|||
|
|
But she was brought down,
|
|||
|
|
Once.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She had it all once.
|
|||
|
|
She was safe, until the walls,
|
|||
|
|
The solid walls, not without purpose,
|
|||
|
|
Melted under mortal fingers.
|
|||
|
|
Hands invaded the muddy walls,
|
|||
|
|
Brushing her...
|
|||
|
|
To death.
|
|||
|
|
All the hands, the hands, the hands...
|
|||
|
|
Reaching for her...
|
|||
|
|
Only wish to be there,
|
|||
|
|
But it could never happen.
|
|||
|
|
But they kept trying.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
There was irony once.
|
|||
|
|
She was the constant.
|
|||
|
|
She is the constant.
|
|||
|
|
But the variable hands reach, grab, chew...
|
|||
|
|
The silver star was dying.
|
|||
|
|
How could she let this happen?
|
|||
|
|
She was in control.
|
|||
|
|
Even at the end.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Fires raged once.
|
|||
|
|
Fires raged and reached for the sky.
|
|||
|
|
Flames choked and gasped,
|
|||
|
|
And cried for the heavens.
|
|||
|
|
Get to close to the fading life,
|
|||
|
|
The searing soul, and you'll be burned.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She lived once.
|
|||
|
|
She dance and twirled 'til the stars fell at her command.
|
|||
|
|
The elements raced around her in innocent play.
|
|||
|
|
Flowers bloomed at her touch.
|
|||
|
|
Birds sang. People laughed.
|
|||
|
|
But no one was supposed to know it was her...
|
|||
|
|
She tried to breathe life into the dying flame.
|
|||
|
|
And she was burned.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
People were happy once.
|
|||
|
|
People were happy together.
|
|||
|
|
People laughed, loved, enjoyed.
|
|||
|
|
Their pain was none of their troubles...
|
|||
|
|
It was her burden.
|
|||
|
|
And when she fell,
|
|||
|
|
Nations fell,
|
|||
|
|
Lovers died.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She was beloved once.
|
|||
|
|
Beloved of all...
|
|||
|
|
Her care, her love, her kind heart,
|
|||
|
|
Had touched mortal souls.
|
|||
|
|
Oh, if they knew,
|
|||
|
|
To love her back is to murder her.
|
|||
|
|
And so she fell.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The elements ruled once.
|
|||
|
|
The rain, the wind, the flame, the heart,
|
|||
|
|
The family, the love, the compassion
|
|||
|
|
All converged for a brief moment.
|
|||
|
|
In that moment, all was possible.
|
|||
|
|
Mortals saw themselves for who they were.
|
|||
|
|
Some cried.
|
|||
|
|
Some died.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
I was a poet once.
|
|||
|
|
I've been a poet since the dawn of the age.
|
|||
|
|
I saw what I could not see, what I was not to see.
|
|||
|
|
I lived inside of her, as you do.
|
|||
|
|
She reads at this very moment,
|
|||
|
|
The words too sacred to write.
|
|||
|
|
You see through her eyes, one she's touched you.
|
|||
|
|
We are immortal.
|
|||
|
|
She was burned.
|
|||
|
|
You live inside us.
|
|||
|
|
All converge.
|
|||
|
|
We have it all, you and I.
|
|||
|
|
The power, the binding love.
|
|||
|
|
And we reminisce...
|
|||
|
|
When we held each other tight,
|
|||
|
|
When we played in the sun,
|
|||
|
|
When we loved like no other,
|
|||
|
|
When the words would flow from the quill...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
I was King once.
|
|||
|
|
I was Queen once.
|
|||
|
|
I was a dreamer once.
|
|||
|
|
I wished once.
|
|||
|
|
I was her once.
|
|||
|
|
I loved once.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
And I love you.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Untitled
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Eddie Vedder
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
She laid alone
|
|||
|
|
during her best days
|
|||
|
|
as a work of art
|
|||
|
|
reading naked on the bed
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
spent some of her best days
|
|||
|
|
cleaning carpet from her hair
|
|||
|
|
spent her worst days
|
|||
|
|
owing you the pleasure
|
|||
|
|
of taking blame...
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
spent her whole life
|
|||
|
|
disbelieving in her worst fears.
|
|||
|
|
A work of art...
|
|||
|
|
A work of art.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"There is a special kind of tension that comes with being misunderstood.
|
|||
|
|
On one hand, one is determined to prove society wrong and to show people
|
|||
|
|
who you really are. On the other hand, there is always a tendency to
|
|||
|
|
accept another person's judgment, and, in doing so, become the very
|
|||
|
|
person you are seen to be." <20> 'Cliff Notes'
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Wasted Time
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD> Sebastian Bach, Rachel Bolan & Dave Sabo
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
You and I together in our lives
|
|||
|
|
Sacred ties would never fray
|
|||
|
|
Then why can I let myself tell lies
|
|||
|
|
And watch you die every day
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
I think back to the times
|
|||
|
|
When dreams were what mattered
|
|||
|
|
Tough-talking youth na<6E>vete
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
You said you never let me down
|
|||
|
|
But the horse stampedes and rages
|
|||
|
|
In the name of desperation
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Is it all just wasted time
|
|||
|
|
Can you look at yourself
|
|||
|
|
When you think of what
|
|||
|
|
You left behind
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Is it all just wasted time
|
|||
|
|
Can you live with yourself
|
|||
|
|
When you think of what
|
|||
|
|
You left behind
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Paranoid delusions they haunt you
|
|||
|
|
Where's my friend I used to know
|
|||
|
|
He's all alone
|
|||
|
|
He's buried deep within a carcass
|
|||
|
|
Searching for a soul
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Can you feel me inside your heart
|
|||
|
|
As it's bleeding
|
|||
|
|
Why can't you believe you can't be loved
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
I hear you scream in agony
|
|||
|
|
And the horse stampedes and rages
|
|||
|
|
In the name of desperation
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Is it all just wasted time
|
|||
|
|
Can you look at yourself
|
|||
|
|
When you think of what
|
|||
|
|
You left behind
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Is it all just wasted time
|
|||
|
|
Can you live with yourself
|
|||
|
|
When you think of what
|
|||
|
|
You left behind
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
The sun will rise again
|
|||
|
|
The earth will turn to sand
|
|||
|
|
Creation's colors seem to fade to grey
|
|||
|
|
And you'll see the sickly hands of time
|
|||
|
|
Will write your final rhyme
|
|||
|
|
And end a memory
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
I never thought you'd let it get this far, boy
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
"People want you to be a crazy, out-of-control teen brat. They want you
|
|||
|
|
miserable, just like them. They don't want heroes; what they want is to see
|
|||
|
|
you fall." - Leonardo DiCaprio
|
|||
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When She Was Free
|
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<EFBFBD> Quinn@adren.net
|
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<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
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|
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she tries to pay attention
|
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|
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her concentration weak
|
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|
|
her mind closed in by walls
|
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|
|
she'll try to use this as an excuse
|
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|
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but don't let her fool you
|
|||
|
|
the walls are made of cardboard
|
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|
|
she says she is chained in
|
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|
|
but did she fail to mention
|
|||
|
|
the chains are made of paper
|
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she complains of locks,
|
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but they're locks she chose herself
|
|||
|
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to keep herself in
|
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|
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to keep others out
|
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|
|
she remembers a time when she was free
|
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|
|
when she had no fears to overcome,
|
|||
|
|
no precautions, no hesitations
|
|||
|
|
when she was hurt,
|
|||
|
|
when she felt pain,
|
|||
|
|
then she crawled away, curled up
|
|||
|
|
she'll show you the scars
|
|||
|
|
the wounds that will never quite heal,
|
|||
|
|
but that's okay
|
|||
|
|
she'll say with a small smile
|
|||
|
|
for no longer can I feel
|
|||
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|
|||
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|
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|
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|
|||
|
|
ADVOCATE DISCERNMENT
|
|||
|
|
REPRESENT TRUTH
|
|||
|
|
Say NO to deceptive alien entities.
|
|||
|
|
For FREE stickers and info send self-addressed stamped envelope to:
|
|||
|
|
V2, Box 911, Stanwood, WA 98292 USA
|
|||
|
|
(if addressee is out of the USA please include International Reply Coupon
|
|||
|
|
for 2oz. letter)
|
|||
|
|
Fear Not.
|
|||
|
|
Spread the Word.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
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|
|||
|
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|
|||
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|
|||
|
|
<20><>
|
|||
|
|
<20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
<20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20> <20> <20><>
|
|||
|
|
<20> <20><><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
<20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD> <20> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
<20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD> <20><> <20><> <20>
|
|||
|
|
<20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><> <20> <20> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><> <20><><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
<20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><> <20> <20> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
<20><> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><> <20> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20>
|
|||
|
|
<20><> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20>
|
|||
|
|
<20><> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20>
|
|||
|
|
<20> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
<20> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20> <20>
|
|||
|
|
<20> <20> <20><> <20><> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><> <20><> <20><>
|
|||
|
|
<20> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
<20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20> <20> <20> <20><> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
<20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><><EFBFBD><EFBFBD> <20><> <20> <20> <20> <20> <20> <20> <20>
|
|||
|
|
<20>
|
|||
|
|
<20>
|
|||
|
|
<20>
|
|||
|
|
<20> <20>twi<77>
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
Legalize.
|
|||
|
|
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|
|||
|
|
Submit your original literary works for Spilled Ink, [volume ten], to
|
|||
|
|
Twilight via Internet e-mail:
|
|||
|
|
twilight@mail.utexas.edu
|
|||
|
|
<EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD><EFBFBD>
|