Hey Sarge, that brought a smile to my face. I always like poetry that is inspired.sargentlard said:
Angelus, if that is what I think and hope it is about, sorry. Either way, good. The last three have been good.
A Poem Thread
- Thread starter Angelus
- Start date
Angelus, if that is what I think and hope it is about, sorry. Either way, good. The last three have been good.
Thanks Hed.
Love's fall
You fuckers know it's copyrighted
Danced the dance of most sinful content
To wrapped pleasantly in mornings shawl
Righteous lust to mournful resent
Ecstacy's extreme but never love’s fall
Highest peak of earth’s design
To deepest chasms of man’s heart
Great statues of equestrian splendor
To piquant portraits torn apart
Arcadian allure of humanity’s kiss
To decadent, delicious Satan’s bliss
Braved the tough, seen bravest of them all
Heard the sweetest of the sirens, never being their fall
Most possible wretched to all holy that be
These hands traversed the land with the companion of sight
But never loves fall, but never in loves spite
Never loves scorn, never its discord
Never its hate, never its resort
Never its comfort, always fear of sorts
In the wonders may come, in those that flee
Never love’s hand, never with thee
What’s a mans worth, through pain I know
What’s a mans value, through heart I wait to see and know
All that eludes me, in loves domain
All the deludes me, through the eyes of pain
Her hand possibly waits, this being however stalls
Ecstasy driven quandaries
But never loves fall.
Love's fall
You fuckers know it's copyrighted
Danced the dance of most sinful content
To wrapped pleasantly in mornings shawl
Righteous lust to mournful resent
Ecstacy's extreme but never love’s fall
Highest peak of earth’s design
To deepest chasms of man’s heart
Great statues of equestrian splendor
To piquant portraits torn apart
Arcadian allure of humanity’s kiss
To decadent, delicious Satan’s bliss
Braved the tough, seen bravest of them all
Heard the sweetest of the sirens, never being their fall
Most possible wretched to all holy that be
These hands traversed the land with the companion of sight
But never loves fall, but never in loves spite
Never loves scorn, never its discord
Never its hate, never its resort
Never its comfort, always fear of sorts
In the wonders may come, in those that flee
Never love’s hand, never with thee
What’s a mans worth, through pain I know
What’s a mans value, through heart I wait to see and know
All that eludes me, in loves domain
All the deludes me, through the eyes of pain
Her hand possibly waits, this being however stalls
Ecstasy driven quandaries
But never loves fall.
Ignorance
I may not be of obstinate spirit,
i may cower in the face of dawn
They may force upon me their accedence,
even when their hope is gone.
I am of mine, my absolution undettered.
Their creed may beckon my sanity,
But never will my cries be heard.
Their hate may subvert my smilies for now,
but I am of mine, they are not me.
In the light I shall stand,
I hope you stand with me.
I may not be of obstinate spirit,
i may cower in the face of dawn
They may force upon me their accedence,
even when their hope is gone.
I am of mine, my absolution undettered.
Their creed may beckon my sanity,
But never will my cries be heard.
Their hate may subvert my smilies for now,
but I am of mine, they are not me.
In the light I shall stand,
I hope you stand with me.
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My preferred form of poetry is the choka, although I do tend to stray thematically. This one was inspired by a particularly gripping lecture on the Parthenon at Reed.
Parthenon
Amazingly, it's copyrighted. No pushing, people!
Four by nine; that is
The ratio of X to
2 times X plus one
Dream of Pericles
No other temple like it
Athena rules here
Behold! A statue
Thirteen meters, head to toe
Gold and ivory
In her hand rests Nike
On her shield, centaurs wage war
Wise queen of Athens
Behold the huge frieze
That adorns the naos trim
Her honor, or theirs?
Only in Athens
Could mere mortals appear where
Gods and legends dwell
Centaur, Amazon
Barbarian and Titan
Taste the blades of Greece
Mighty is Athens!
All Greece pays homage to her
And her Parthenon
Yet even Athens
Must pay the piper of time
War, conquest, neglect
Where are the voices?
Dust chokes the alter and fills
The reflecting pool
Gone is Athena
Her face is turned away, now
From those she favored
The stone is pitted
Faces soften, colors fade
Memory erodes
Like a shed snakeskin,
The shape of what was remains
The ghost of Hubris.
Feel free to comment, although I am a bleeder, so please aim for the darker parts of my outfit.
Parthenon
Amazingly, it's copyrighted. No pushing, people!
Four by nine; that is
The ratio of X to
2 times X plus one
Dream of Pericles
No other temple like it
Athena rules here
Behold! A statue
Thirteen meters, head to toe
Gold and ivory
In her hand rests Nike
On her shield, centaurs wage war
Wise queen of Athens
Behold the huge frieze
That adorns the naos trim
Her honor, or theirs?
Only in Athens
Could mere mortals appear where
Gods and legends dwell
Centaur, Amazon
Barbarian and Titan
Taste the blades of Greece
Mighty is Athens!
All Greece pays homage to her
And her Parthenon
Yet even Athens
Must pay the piper of time
War, conquest, neglect
Where are the voices?
Dust chokes the alter and fills
The reflecting pool
Gone is Athena
Her face is turned away, now
From those she favored
The stone is pitted
Faces soften, colors fade
Memory erodes
Like a shed snakeskin,
The shape of what was remains
The ghost of Hubris.
Feel free to comment, although I am a bleeder, so please aim for the darker parts of my outfit.
The overall tone of the poetry in this thread seems to be darker than my own humble efforts, but as my tongue is permanently and firmly planted in my cheek, I will soldier on with another bit of bastardized Billy Collins.
Eden
Copyrighted, kids. But then you knew that.
God’s standing out in my front yard;
He’s watching all the sparrows.
Tailoring their feathery coats
Quiverfulls of mocha arrows.
He stoops to heal wounded ferns,
Victims of my overzealous pruning.
Then rights the birdbath with a wave
That sets the sparrows crooning.
Now he turns toward the dawn-lit East
Sunlight coruscating on his Ray-bans.
His ineffable grin gate-pearly
As seraphim alight with watering cans.
I'm not sure if I can get behind the whole "God is my buddy" approach that some (I repeat: some) folks take, but neither can I dismiss it completely. This poem's about my belief (or, rather, my desire to believe) in a God that handles micro- and macro-management with aplomb.
Eden
Copyrighted, kids. But then you knew that.
God’s standing out in my front yard;
He’s watching all the sparrows.
Tailoring their feathery coats
Quiverfulls of mocha arrows.
He stoops to heal wounded ferns,
Victims of my overzealous pruning.
Then rights the birdbath with a wave
That sets the sparrows crooning.
Now he turns toward the dawn-lit East
Sunlight coruscating on his Ray-bans.
His ineffable grin gate-pearly
As seraphim alight with watering cans.
I'm not sure if I can get behind the whole "God is my buddy" approach that some (I repeat: some) folks take, but neither can I dismiss it completely. This poem's about my belief (or, rather, my desire to believe) in a God that handles micro- and macro-management with aplomb.
Non-sequitur
My taciturn way allow you to return
to silently slay each demon
with wild-eyed silence.
Since you opened the heart to the burning flame,
releasing each blinding beast
that would've slained me a million times,
I've listened, praying I will not melt:
releasing the acid eating away a cell each minute.
The trust placed in me is truly undeserved,
if ever there was a better thief,
I know not him; heard not of him in my searching strolls
down the beach of tormented souls.
I've unsheathed a sword and slain the virgin
before the birth: gleefully watched
each truth for a lie, and each lie for a truth.
"You the abomination, every barracaded bridge is your doing"
she tells me she tells her.
"You, the saintly virgin..." I tell her.
I've lost the plot, stuck in the dungeon
welcoming smiling demons aching to reopen wounds,
gifted with angels seeking to calm,
riddled with dueling foes on booty stolen from cheating princes.
It's just like me to be enamored with the chase--
being the heartless bastard that I am.
I've left many a broken hearts,
but only in my wake.
Yes, as calculating as the lion on the 'lope.
I edge ahead of each slope, beating angels to the finishing line.
I watch then fall helpless and giddy.
"She must not know, we must not hurt her", we both echo
between passioned kisses.
But my fuel is the hold over you, and yours,
each skillfully traversed skin on your back,
each softly raised hair south of your navel.
My taciturn way allow you to return
to silently slay each demon
with wild-eyed silence.
Since you opened the heart to the burning flame,
releasing each blinding beast
that would've slained me a million times,
I've listened, praying I will not melt:
releasing the acid eating away a cell each minute.
The trust placed in me is truly undeserved,
if ever there was a better thief,
I know not him; heard not of him in my searching strolls
down the beach of tormented souls.
I've unsheathed a sword and slain the virgin
before the birth: gleefully watched
each truth for a lie, and each lie for a truth.
"You the abomination, every barracaded bridge is your doing"
she tells me she tells her.
"You, the saintly virgin..." I tell her.
I've lost the plot, stuck in the dungeon
welcoming smiling demons aching to reopen wounds,
gifted with angels seeking to calm,
riddled with dueling foes on booty stolen from cheating princes.
It's just like me to be enamored with the chase--
being the heartless bastard that I am.
I've left many a broken hearts,
but only in my wake.
Yes, as calculating as the lion on the 'lope.
I edge ahead of each slope, beating angels to the finishing line.
I watch then fall helpless and giddy.
"She must not know, we must not hurt her", we both echo
between passioned kisses.
But my fuel is the hold over you, and yours,
each skillfully traversed skin on your back,
each softly raised hair south of your navel.
(4 lines here and there are from whitewolf, the rest are mine)
torture chamber is alive,
it sharpens it's teeth and rains
in an acid torrent of the pleasure
of the sick.
sometimes it crawls,
sometimes it flies, it hurries
somewhere on errands unknown-
too fucking complicated to grasp.
get real, get treatment,
reach for the gun,
become the sunset over the hills:
ever returining, eternal and beautiful.
the shots've been fired-
I hear the police,
and people run like sheep to the wall,
and pray to their crosses, to their pockets,
their needs,
still like mumies stuck in stone.
and you are in the middle,
you can not get out,
but tear your vision, your sanity apart,
escape the laboratory of screams
into, into your dreams.
torture chamber is alive,
it sharpens it's teeth and rains
in an acid torrent of the pleasure
of the sick.
sometimes it crawls,
sometimes it flies, it hurries
somewhere on errands unknown-
too fucking complicated to grasp.
get real, get treatment,
reach for the gun,
become the sunset over the hills:
ever returining, eternal and beautiful.
the shots've been fired-
I hear the police,
and people run like sheep to the wall,
and pray to their crosses, to their pockets,
their needs,
still like mumies stuck in stone.
and you are in the middle,
you can not get out,
but tear your vision, your sanity apart,
escape the laboratory of screams
into, into your dreams.
Well Ok, we are getting somewhere
Synonymous
There: Walking on the bay’s end,
knowing full well my judgment does await,
feeling too well the panging voices muted by my denials,
still lead to my burning fears.
I have never been faithful.
Even when my only truthful lie gifted innocence
devoid of all the fears that mask in armies overwhelmed
by the conquering hand belonging to me,
I still laid to waste the trust given me.
And in my head, trampled the ripen rose, replaced
with the rotting, bemusing scantiness of a desert’s cactus.
I always get what I want
With a glistering dagger, I chase away the delightful
Images of times spent, laughter shared, hurts bared,
Ignoring the forcing guilt that secretly bears.
I have no other reason ‘cept the body desires,
The mind has made habit, and I’m lazy.
So I spew the honey, await the rewards,
And cry a lazy tear to justify, when I have repressed.
The joyless reward that cures nothing
Thus, when the offering is set,
The whites of a bearing smile the clue
that I ingest with greed, the bequest,
I utter the expected words, charge, and consume.
Ever the pleasing wonder, the giving lover,
I satiate every desire, knowing full well
Any hope of her joy dousing
One minuscule fire is false.
I walk a frozen path
Now her desire fulfilled, her dark alight,
The need to secure matured,
It’s time to set fire to her selfish wishes:
the blaze of my fears—my insecurities
Disguised as my unrequited hopes.
I’m a cold heart.
Done, I go running to the one warm spot—her innocent lap.
I’m a cold heart.
My judgment waits.
Guilt, unresponsive guilt, this gift of the wicked one,
It crowds, letting these spill,
Peeling layers and layers of time-tested armour.
I’m to leave my relief for an unwelcome guilt?
Synonymous
There: Walking on the bay’s end,
knowing full well my judgment does await,
feeling too well the panging voices muted by my denials,
still lead to my burning fears.
I have never been faithful.
Even when my only truthful lie gifted innocence
devoid of all the fears that mask in armies overwhelmed
by the conquering hand belonging to me,
I still laid to waste the trust given me.
And in my head, trampled the ripen rose, replaced
with the rotting, bemusing scantiness of a desert’s cactus.
I always get what I want
With a glistering dagger, I chase away the delightful
Images of times spent, laughter shared, hurts bared,
Ignoring the forcing guilt that secretly bears.
I have no other reason ‘cept the body desires,
The mind has made habit, and I’m lazy.
So I spew the honey, await the rewards,
And cry a lazy tear to justify, when I have repressed.
The joyless reward that cures nothing
Thus, when the offering is set,
The whites of a bearing smile the clue
that I ingest with greed, the bequest,
I utter the expected words, charge, and consume.
Ever the pleasing wonder, the giving lover,
I satiate every desire, knowing full well
Any hope of her joy dousing
One minuscule fire is false.
I walk a frozen path
Now her desire fulfilled, her dark alight,
The need to secure matured,
It’s time to set fire to her selfish wishes:
the blaze of my fears—my insecurities
Disguised as my unrequited hopes.
I’m a cold heart.
Done, I go running to the one warm spot—her innocent lap.
I’m a cold heart.
My judgment waits.
Guilt, unresponsive guilt, this gift of the wicked one,
It crowds, letting these spill,
Peeling layers and layers of time-tested armour.
I’m to leave my relief for an unwelcome guilt?
Ode to a Primate
I have tired of being a wonder in my own mind
a churning fountain of self-flattering adulations
over an open grave of solitude
I raise my shining testicles in search of:
images reflected in invertebrate eyes
and a purifying ordeal that never comes
And if I find it
"I will punch it in the spleen so hard that it will topple over in agony"
For I:
I am the slanderer of wit that beckons eyes
like the cleavage of a two-bit whore
a regurgitating silverback breaking branches
and stomping dirt
while feigning anxious indifference and laughing hysterically at all I fear
Three inches of flaccidity
Hold my lord upon his symbol
Thrice I deny him
Before dawn:
and then call him in the night
Two inches of splendor casting longer shadows with the slant
One inch of insecurity vanishing in the flesh of another's misunderstanding
....as I planned it!
...
....
Ambiguity is how I keep my own image intact
For I am
Ape-man
But call me
(on the phone)
"Hephasteus' Bowel Movement"
I have tired of being a wonder in my own mind
a churning fountain of self-flattering adulations
over an open grave of solitude
I raise my shining testicles in search of:
images reflected in invertebrate eyes
and a purifying ordeal that never comes
And if I find it
"I will punch it in the spleen so hard that it will topple over in agony"
For I:
I am the slanderer of wit that beckons eyes
like the cleavage of a two-bit whore
a regurgitating silverback breaking branches
and stomping dirt
while feigning anxious indifference and laughing hysterically at all I fear
Three inches of flaccidity
Hold my lord upon his symbol
Thrice I deny him
Before dawn:
and then call him in the night
Two inches of splendor casting longer shadows with the slant
One inch of insecurity vanishing in the flesh of another's misunderstanding
....as I planned it!
...
....
Ambiguity is how I keep my own image intact
For I am
Ape-man
But call me
(on the phone)
"Hephasteus' Bowel Movement"
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heh.
Welcome back, creature of Greece. Your response is surprisingly unimaginative, but you wrote it, so kudos. That's it.
Welcome back, creature of Greece. Your response is surprisingly unimaginative, but you wrote it, so kudos. That's it.
Stranglehold
Two figures huddle closer together:
she, letting go in his strong arms,
he, not letting go in fear of yet another loss.
As the heavens cry heavy tears of relief,
the sun is sheltered
from the night's ominous cool.
And between the heaven's heavy screams,
the flames of the bonfire
twirl in the winds of their sighing breaths.
This smooth face belies fears faced
in life's trepidations and gifts--
Rain, he thinks, rain away
the thoughts of the guile beast
that wields flaming torches aimed at my heart.
But life, he truthfully lies to her,
is the hope of moments like these.
Two figures huddle closer together:
she, letting go in his strong arms,
he, not letting go in fear of yet another loss.
As the heavens cry heavy tears of relief,
the sun is sheltered
from the night's ominous cool.
And between the heaven's heavy screams,
the flames of the bonfire
twirl in the winds of their sighing breaths.
This smooth face belies fears faced
in life's trepidations and gifts--
Rain, he thinks, rain away
the thoughts of the guile beast
that wields flaming torches aimed at my heart.
But life, he truthfully lies to her,
is the hope of moments like these.
you don't need my laughs
for this knife to work,
so why wait?
or is the knife
not made of steel
but chocolate?
a little spark of enemy,
a little creature of another dream;
did I ask too much
or wait not long enough?
few friends, no foes
but stupidity,
it lurks behind the walls of reality
infecting each and every mouth
which says: I know
---
© 2004 by Avatar
for this knife to work,
so why wait?
or is the knife
not made of steel
but chocolate?
a little spark of enemy,
a little creature of another dream;
did I ask too much
or wait not long enough?
few friends, no foes
but stupidity,
it lurks behind the walls of reality
infecting each and every mouth
which says: I know
---
© 2004 by Avatar
You were a lighthouse
standing all cracked
and shattered by laughs
and endless rains.
It was an ocean
and it shouted: rejected;
with no job, no future, no past -
a sensless path.
I know, at nights you cried:
where is the temple, the end,
the devil, the god, the hell,
the beauty, the something, not this?!
I come back and hear
a plea, a request, an order, a shout:
go home!
I have none..
I were a lighthouse
standing all proud and tall
shattered by endless shouts of the rocks,
endless and endless being born.
It were the shadows,
they made me accept
that the funeral was near,
the only drug to the sky.
Oh, I was so foolish
to believe not wings but chains,
to forge a dream out of a fright,
my fears, my tears, my ghosts.
Each night they haunted my mind
and now I'm among them
rattling my chains, my cage,
warning you, my dearest friend.
---
© 2004 by Avatar
standing all cracked
and shattered by laughs
and endless rains.
It was an ocean
and it shouted: rejected;
with no job, no future, no past -
a sensless path.
I know, at nights you cried:
where is the temple, the end,
the devil, the god, the hell,
the beauty, the something, not this?!
I come back and hear
a plea, a request, an order, a shout:
go home!
I have none..
I were a lighthouse
standing all proud and tall
shattered by endless shouts of the rocks,
endless and endless being born.
It were the shadows,
they made me accept
that the funeral was near,
the only drug to the sky.
Oh, I was so foolish
to believe not wings but chains,
to forge a dream out of a fright,
my fears, my tears, my ghosts.
Each night they haunted my mind
and now I'm among them
rattling my chains, my cage,
warning you, my dearest friend.
---
© 2004 by Avatar
You thought of all the bullets,
you counted all the wounds,
but you didn't think
of this flag to burn.
You buried each tear
with your own hands
in this rock, this shattered-glass hope,
but didn't think
of this flag to burn.
These lies, these fears
like crows in the sky,
they feed on the dead,
on this land
and the flag that burns.
You can not imagine
what is it like
when all what you have given away
has been killed once more,
and all what you have counted lost
returns like ghosts
of a beloved no more.
---
© 2004 by Avatar
you counted all the wounds,
but you didn't think
of this flag to burn.
You buried each tear
with your own hands
in this rock, this shattered-glass hope,
but didn't think
of this flag to burn.
These lies, these fears
like crows in the sky,
they feed on the dead,
on this land
and the flag that burns.
You can not imagine
what is it like
when all what you have given away
has been killed once more,
and all what you have counted lost
returns like ghosts
of a beloved no more.
---
© 2004 by Avatar
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The malcontent
Two falling pillars is all that remains
Two guiding signs of a life spent
chasing big things and sacrificing little things.
Two singers in the desert's selfish
punishment of the lost traveler
Two un-belonging creatures in a perfect land
As was once told and since forgotten,
he came with a thousand men,
ten times more in gold and armory.
He came to free his forefather's land.
And they, captivated by such riches, welcomed him:
the pious facing the sacraments of their God
beggars at the knees of a rich and giving man.
And they, leeches on a seemingly endless flow of blood,
feasted on the sweet taste: ever their endless urge.
Allow me to introduce myself:
I sacrificed the little for big things,
lost my love-- myself, granted a nation,
and my remembrance is that I came before,
built two towers facing the west.
Two falling pillars is all that remains
Two guiding signs of a life spent
chasing big things and sacrificing little things.
Two singers in the desert's selfish
punishment of the lost traveler
Two un-belonging creatures in a perfect land
As was once told and since forgotten,
he came with a thousand men,
ten times more in gold and armory.
He came to free his forefather's land.
And they, captivated by such riches, welcomed him:
the pious facing the sacraments of their God
beggars at the knees of a rich and giving man.
And they, leeches on a seemingly endless flow of blood,
feasted on the sweet taste: ever their endless urge.
Allow me to introduce myself:
I sacrificed the little for big things,
lost my love-- myself, granted a nation,
and my remembrance is that I came before,
built two towers facing the west.
Odysseus' Descent into Hades
Cyclops wails on Mykonos
"Dunst - dunst - dunst - dunst"
As I escape
Clutching sheep bellies
Queen Circe beckons
"Holy-Moly!"
Thrice I turn from her
Descend into Hades
bravery is what I feel
when I am not brave
bad faith indeed!
The blind seer drinks
Damnit!
The oxblood has no Tabasco sauce
Please?
And the ring falls from Odin's hand
To join the eight
Ooops, wrong mythology
Fly-haloed harpies tear my sensitive heart
Bound to the rack of my own nobility
I cry against the Gods
I wander the Aegean:
Hera's bird
I swat at flies
I am wise
(as Oedipus was)
Minus the incest, plus the eyes
My kidneys survived
Apollo descends
My bliss!
A poet's and an eagle's bliss
That swoops up young Ganymedes
Wicked Circe! I am a man.
I spurn you, Dionysus
I fight the wolf
Or I am the wolf
Sometimes I do not know
I am cold
Noble
I only hurt you because I love you
Cyclops wails on Mykonos
"Dunst - dunst - dunst - dunst"
As I escape
Clutching sheep bellies
Queen Circe beckons
"Holy-Moly!"
Thrice I turn from her
Descend into Hades
bravery is what I feel
when I am not brave
bad faith indeed!
The blind seer drinks
Damnit!
The oxblood has no Tabasco sauce
Please?
And the ring falls from Odin's hand
To join the eight
Ooops, wrong mythology
Fly-haloed harpies tear my sensitive heart
Bound to the rack of my own nobility
I cry against the Gods
I wander the Aegean:
Hera's bird
I swat at flies
I am wise
(as Oedipus was)
Minus the incest, plus the eyes
My kidneys survived
Apollo descends
My bliss!
A poet's and an eagle's bliss
That swoops up young Ganymedes
Wicked Circe! I am a man.
I spurn you, Dionysus
I fight the wolf
Or I am the wolf
Sometimes I do not know
I am cold
Noble
I only hurt you because I love you
I draw a picture in the sand
just to watch it fade away
by my scream,
by this roaring sea
shouting in my dreams:
get up, get up and scream.
Reality is just a voice
of your body getting old,
get up, get up
and wash away the static walls
everywhere
stone and cold, boring
making each and every thought
brain-dead and dull.
A picture of the fairy queen
smiling and taking me away
for millenia and more;
the sea takes it away -
I scream
for my fading dream.
It's the time,
it cracks me open and sinks,
drinks my tears, my sins,
but I still adore,
wait for them
..evermore.
just to watch it fade away
by my scream,
by this roaring sea
shouting in my dreams:
get up, get up and scream.
Reality is just a voice
of your body getting old,
get up, get up
and wash away the static walls
everywhere
stone and cold, boring
making each and every thought
brain-dead and dull.
A picture of the fairy queen
smiling and taking me away
for millenia and more;
the sea takes it away -
I scream
for my fading dream.
It's the time,
it cracks me open and sinks,
drinks my tears, my sins,
but I still adore,
wait for them
..evermore.
After years
she came back
to her own home,
to the start
where it all
began.
Who is that,
is that my dog
or my brother?
I could not tell,
doesn't feel
like home.
There's a woman,
there's husband,
another world
not my home.
I don't believe
this is my home,
their smiles tell
there's something wrong
and I am still
alone.
she came back
to her own home,
to the start
where it all
began.
Who is that,
is that my dog
or my brother?
I could not tell,
doesn't feel
like home.
There's a woman,
there's husband,
another world
not my home.
I don't believe
this is my home,
their smiles tell
there's something wrong
and I am still
alone.
They say it's wrong
to love a cat
like I do
in my bed.
I never bothered
to ask a question
from where they know
or why care.
It is not their bed
and not their cat,
not their fucking business
what I like.
Moral creeps!:
I shout aloud
and laugh at them
when they drag their wives.
They are so fat
you could tell
it's an awkward mountain
not human.
My shiny, shiny, blacklit cat,
two spirits above this shit;
candles burning and hearts are beating
this night.
to love a cat
like I do
in my bed.
I never bothered
to ask a question
from where they know
or why care.
It is not their bed
and not their cat,
not their fucking business
what I like.
Moral creeps!:
I shout aloud
and laugh at them
when they drag their wives.
They are so fat
you could tell
it's an awkward mountain
not human.
My shiny, shiny, blacklit cat,
two spirits above this shit;
candles burning and hearts are beating
this night.