[x]

lies, she wrotei. just a mimicry, really;
uncompromisingly
desperate to shine.

ii. counterfeit & clockwise,
tasting words on her
unworthy tongue.

iii. with a dysfunctional mind
& apocryphal dictionary,
she cannot clone it all.

iv. "say anything," the pen
whispers as she trembles
among ink-scented fraudulence.

v. but she just laughs & plays the part,
forgetting what the pages told her:
"truth is stranger than fiction."

The Pen, The SwordJust lovely
I was happy to fall asleep
in the welcoming warmth of your words and
you were unaware that you held me
so close, and so carefully
from the moment before I heard you speak
to the taste of every sentence you spoke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been seeking all along
Just barely
I was loathe to fall so deep
in the sharpened edges of your words and
you were too aware that you had me
so close, and so carelessly
from the first second I heard you break
to the taste of every sentence you broke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been avoiding all along

Death of the PoetDear poetry,
This is your challenge,
my eternal chore,
to restate the truth
like never before-
but I’m imperfect
at my very core
and hypocrisy
is what I abhor
so you may expect
my work to be poor
enough for me to
be crushed into gore
with failed attempts
to take wing and soar
when all I wanted
was something much more
than emptiness and
inherited war
and pointless details
of imagined lore
which most of us tend
to simply ignore
at the piercing sound
of a lion’s roar
or the convenience
of a nearby store…
what am I truly
writing these words for?
Let’s merely pretend
that this isn’t me
but the voice of God
or L. Ron Hubbard
or whoever you
wish for it to be
since facts remain facts
no matter the source,
no matter the cause,
since the trustworthy
are also humans
prone to failure;
so prone to a fault
that we hold dearly-
the sum of our faith
measured in dollars-
rewarded by credit
and paper money…
for some odd reason
I find this funny!
So I conclude

False EternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days,
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.
Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!
Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for the moon
then sought the horizon, again and again warned my father that doom
would befall him if he didn't seek a better way to live and be
I wasn't willing to follow the dark and deadly rules,
trying to bring some light into the lives of these fools.
Guilds of anti-gods were formed, wars rose higher, nothing to atone!
They all represen

ArrheniusThe birds are
keeping to themselves
this evening
as the earth shifts
slightly-
ever so calmly
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have
to move).

Here and there, I
witness these
beautiful strangers
with perfect bodies
and long hair
walking down the road
in tightly knitted packs.
They are animals
like we are animals-
like we are
animals without
claws and fur,
with scratches on our
skin that yields to
fragile and
familiar hands.

The winds respond
as quiet birds rush
from telephone wires
in panic and
in beauty; she
tries to brush the hair
dancing circles in her eyes
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have to move).

False eternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days,
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant of the fact that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.

Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!

Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for

Psychotic ramblingsI, in the eternal void rest,
Am the unwanted thirteenth guest,
Insane, deranged and psychotic,
There are people who even call me sick.

Isn't it joyful and greedy to demand
A sacrifice of strangulation at the reach of the hand?
Cure the poisoned in a prison built of mental sand.

Murder is the solution brought by the resolution.
Is this the final, one and only conclusion?
Better think again, there will be no retribution.

Death is not the liberation, just the beginning.
Is there eternal peace? The solution is sinning.
Unacceptable lies become the truth, the chaos keeps spinning.

WakefulI remain awake with dreams on my mind
and stories that wait to be knit into books.
To never find comfort until my pillows are
stuffed with thoughts instead of feathers
To never let go until I made sure that
the moon smiled back at me
Until the trees, the grass, and every night creature
has whispered good night...
And yet I'm still as wakeful as an owl
afraid that sleep would somehow
grab my neck and drag me to my grave.

Redeeming Light
Read bottom to top:
.
there
journey
e
h
t
and the stem is
than the flower must be redemption
n
i
s
are
If the roots

a true writer's souli write to release
i write to breathe
i write to feel
i write to bleed

i don't care
if you don't understand
i don't care
if you can't relate
i don't care
for your opinion
i don't care
about you at all

my words are thoughts
my words are emotions
my words are curses
my words are memories
my words are everything
i want them to be
and fuck if you can comprehend

i could write in measure
i could bother with rhythm
but i'm better than your rules
i'm beyond the margin

i'm a fucking psychotic mess
of ambiguous lunacy
that only the ones that think
can understand
the ones that
are just like me

fuck your critiques

fuck your citicism

fuck your opin

Watercolor PainWhen you smile,
I turn colorblind.

It turns into a somersault
whenever I gain contact
with your skin,
bare back touching
bare back.

But I'm not hungry
for bedposts.

I just want to
savor each moment your arms
lock into mine,
the romanticism of
the moons in my eyes
and the skies in your words.

There's smoke
behind all those hues
of hazel and your fingers
are porcelain,
but I still love you.

Shared HappinessI like it better when you're happy.
The world feels like a safe place -
A good place to be.

Stay happy, even in the face
of great adversity
I know these last few years have been...

Well, difficult, to say the least.
But as long as your heart shines
I can hear it...

That devilish smile on your lips
the one no amount of miles
or hardships can erase

Remember, I'm always watching
With the eyes of my heart
I see you clearly

And, as long as you are happy
No matter where this life leads me
Then I am happy too.

HumanDear Hypocrite,

What do you do?
Throwing insults when you're insulted.

Dear Coward,

Where went you?
To your "peaceful" sanctuary you have bolted.

Dear Liar,

What say you?
Your poison corrupts innocent ears.

Dear Human,

What are you?
A sinner trapped in endless tears.

bad nightmy mistakes are on my head,
and the cigarettes taste like metal;
on the street curb of a suburban block,
the lights jaundiced and flickering
like drunken fireflies, your reflection
that emanates from me covers every face.

ConstructDelving into the origins
Of what makes an individual
Who are you? Who am I?
There’s a lack of understanding,
Yet we jump to judge
And claim to know
That which we could never understand

Attempts are seldom made
To investigate the unknown
To strive to discover
Those we claim to know
From the inside out
Extract the innermost thoughts

In place there is an idealist mirage
To which our beliefs shall cling to
In desperation, or disbelief

It’s the construct of our mindset
That leads us all astray

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HOW I VISION YOUI.

Can I swim through your ripples
of cleansing azure
Stand up to your tempest?
Wash up on your shore?
Embrace the polarity
of your allure?
Can I try on your silhouette
like a lost contour?

II.

Your skin is a breeze
and my hands want to fly
My fingers are wings
in the flesh of your sky
You're stars and I'm stripes
on the peak of July
while your orbital rays
suck my loneliness dry

III.

Tell me that I'm overboard
or that I'm not too bright
It gives me further reason
to seek out your guiding light
I may not be a poet
but these lover's words are true
Flawed only in your flawlessness
That's how I vision you

SO I WONDER...saving yourself for my unconscious state
i remain with only open eyes to stay awake
and to wake is to mourn and
the morning is too long a time
away from the sound sleeping that waits
so i wonder whether you will die young
as you're living so quick
like the smoke off a gun (it seems
you were born
labor fast as a flicker
free of pain for its own cure it circulates)

THE BUMevery passerby
on the boardwalk
is like a test tutorial
the one missed just might
have the question
waiting for the naked answer
i've been dutifully polishing
in antique shop anticipation
of the day when my intellect
is leaked to the mainstream

SWALLOWED STANZASI.

Brimstone sentiments accrue between my ears
Infernos of intent evaporate the frazzled tears
I was collecting for a pool of solace in which I could dip
my flaming head when hot environments unlocked my frozen lip

II.

Sometimes I think my stomach imitates a salt mine
when I swallow the prescribed advice on which I daily dine
Nightly I receive the water from the serpent glass I swear
is filled by no one but replenished by sin vapors hiding in my air

COLD HAND TOWNpale pimpled porous
face i withhold from the sun
to keep from burning golden brown
you know they can pick out
imposters in this town

murky in the muzzle
all i taste is my own breath
deflected back in humid heat
this town is not convinced
the taste of any other mouth is just as sweet

meet me at the bus stop
too cold for the boardwalk
again i must withhold you
from the others with the blood of color
in their lips to lick and smile through

i have got you by the shoulder
and your arm down to the elbow
relating to the near end of your novel
your knitted pattern presses me for
signage, not in blood, but stone cobble

LADY OF THE LATHERThe gloss of your kneecaps
advertise sweet skin summits
over scented bubble drifts

Toenails instinctively waltz
on unseen porcelain
while your shoulders occur to me
smooth as caramel syrup
and wayward pearls of sweat
incline me to follow your torso
down to the water horizon

Do I inquire or
do I imagine

A question deferred
till I mine the wet surface
and come up with handfuls of
bubbly treasure to send to you
with a swift breath
like showers of white rose petals

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NOCTURNAL SUBMISSION

by ~Kublakhan27, Jan 3, 2011, 9:58:03 PM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

what's left to evoke
in this storybook fiasco
of rising actions suffocated
under weight of climax

NOCTURNAL SUBMISSIONby ~Kublakhan27

Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

01 27 03

!TheWriteExperiment Jan 4, 2011

im at awe.

~TGfascinated Jan 3, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

Holy shit! That's a touchdown right there! (usually avoid sports metaphors, but this is so awesome I wanted to stand up from the computer and put both hands in the air).

~Kublakhan27 Jan 3, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

Thanks for the compliment and the watch

~TGfascinated Jan 3, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

My pleasure!

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NOCTURNAL SUBMISSIONby ~Kublakhan27

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