[x]

What A Man WantsSix tender feet tall,
striking
like fresh purple lightning.
Crawl your way into
my craft,
my veins,
my breath
like a lady
bug me the way a flower
gently nudges the side
of an old orchard tree
in august winds
Pulling at the protective
film of my brain
Immortalizing my skin,
Industrializing my heart,
and taking away what
I want to be and
making me into who I am to become.

Walk away
backwards
because you can't stand
to look away
but look this way and
you'll understand
that I've walked two moons
in your moccasins
and I've played with
spears, and guns,
and hate
and I've realized that
its not for me.

In y

Sleeping Isn't for the WeakInsomnia's kiss
Is a breath taking beauty.
She lingers between
Bed sheets
And loves to
Invite me in.

It's a shame I have
My dreams already.
That I've found
The battering eyes
Of drowsiness
On my skin
Much more sensuous
Than not.

Today I told
The highest girl in the world
That days have grown
Much too long
And years have shriveled
To specks of dust.

She told me my words
Were true in one sense.
She said it was a sign
That I was dying.

I like to think
She was wrong-
that it meant
I'm still breathing
And all too far alive.

It is the DarknessIt is the darkness that cumulates, coils and collects
At the edge of the visible light; a haven in the night,
Never quite visible, always tangible. Always pulling
On the fraying edges of the mind’s tapestry that one day,
As all things must, will unravel, unwind, and remain unfinished.
It is death’s running chase that reveals ones innermost self.
There is the rain and the moon and the dark stormy clouds
And these are evocative of their master. They’re the painter’s stroke,
The craftsman’s signature style, and above all else,
They are the Roman’s requiem, solemn and persistent,
Fashioning a loose, strai

She and the capital H (it's me) Her fingers are like bitter fists
That rattle aged bones as comfort.
She fumbles around for a light.
(to light me up)
I'm an empty friend that fights the mind.

We can get out of here smoking rage off an old reactor.
I'll be the fake cold factor of your changing features.

Flicker the fuse past these eyes -
To burn out all the liars.
Flicker the fuse past these eyes -
To burn out all the liars.

Stable sight shuts her blank face
From a snapped shutter photograph.
She crumbles with her frontal lobe.
(fill up and load)
She beat me down to the punchline.

We can't get out of here floating on a

Something/Sacrificial Lamb/Loveless I'm defeated as you replace me
With your control over using abuse.
No, sit back down; listen to the
Sounds of my shut mouth.

Who are you
(To tell me I'm powerless?)
Who will you
( Get your satisfaction from?)
I can be your; I will be your
sacrificial lamb.

I can be your nothing;
Your loveless something.
I can be your nothing;
Your loveless something.

Infect me with your heartless eyes;
You're fatal and you're not able to -
No, depress me, I dare you.
For my mind isn't stable

Who are you
(To tell me I'm powerless?)
Who will you
( Get your satisfaction from?)
I can be your; I will be your
sacrificial lamb.

SubmissionThere are words I don't recognize
written on the walls of my contentment.
I'm not sure what language they're in
or who wrote them, but I do know
that it says something about surrender.
I've given up more times
than I've given anything else.

pumpkins, pogo-sticks, and lip-to-lip
dear october.

the leaves haven't fallen yet.
maybe this year, they will not.
i am sick of things dying prettier than they live.

i am walking streets full of dead carcasses
and making sure to step on them to feel the bones crack
beneath my feet and it makes me feel powerful
and alive and deadly and beautiful.

i am three months away from january
and my unfulfilled new year's resolution is still
sitting heavily on my collarbone, trickling down my ribs
melting into the soles of my shoes.

last year, i celebrated the new year in my friend's friend's apartment
in india and two minutes after the countdown was over,
people set off fire

My EndymionI was never a fond of love;
I never invited it into my bed,
nor gave it my tears.
Not that it would ask.

And yet tears I do now give,
in sacrifice.
To a man who never asked nor incited such feelings.
Feelings that crowd my mind,

And weigh my chest down.
With uncontrolled emotions that spire into fires of passion.
Pretty words seeming so small to describe,
the obsolete moment of truth that banishes dreams for reality.

Oh how the light so gently touches you,
and that smile.
That gives me a smile of my own.
This is a tragedy of situation my friend.

Sorrow for joy;
my dear Endymion.

Stubborn SurvivalWipe away all of the dirt and blood
With the back of your hand
From your mouth, wipe down the mud
Say, can you get up? Say, can you stand?
Take my hand, I uphold you anytime
The fight was tough
The beating was rough
But here we are, still alive, how sublime

Now, let's see how bad it really is
We have seen better days
There is no doubt about this.
Despite some bruises and scars we'll raise
Yet again, maybe we will never learn
When to give in
When we cannot win
But here we are, and defeat we still spurn

So take my hand, get back on your feet
You didn't die of the pains
Even broken hearts still beat
And pump the red hot blood

AphroditeRoses shall not narrate thy holy eyes
Undone by love, stars in disguise
Bejewled fair face, only thou fit
A blossom of hope that never wilts
Bound by spell only thee I think of
Angel thou I love by the name Above
Indeed crystalline thine ethereal face
Like a trinket shaped with Lord's grace
Or the falling benevolent winter snow
Valor wings thy hast heaven aglow
Enchanting thy lips take my sight
Young and tantalized thy beloved heart
One that shudders but never falls apart
Untying my hands Angel show me light.

Glitter on the pageThere is glitter on my fingertips,
As they stroke across the page,
Its all black and red to you,
But I see it glimmer and form.

She didn't have to make that joke,
As it cut into my trusting heart,
Black, yes, everything is black,
This is why I stay silent.
That was a secret she laughed about.
And you laughed too,
"I'm used to it."

He won't leave my dreams,
And I can never sleep.
Lets wash this blood red marker,
away in the sink.
This is why I am insomniac.
The bullet noise forever imprinted in my mind.
You just smile,
"Well, he's in a better place now."

She never had to use my life against me,
Those low blo

WordsmithsHow long did you think
we could pound our vocabulary with hammers
before it fell flat?

My Dearest

Dearest Robert,

Every night I walk the narrow path to The Door, Your Door. (I tell no one. I make sure they're not watching). They tried to keep me from you. Did you know they hid the letters? They hid them, but I found them in the attic underneath a pile of your clothes. They tried to donate those too, but I stopped them. I had a fit and I made them stop. Everyday my nightgown is damp with tears, but at night I have comfort. I know you're with me then.

Already there is talk of moving on. It's been a whole year, they say. I need to Let Go, Move On, but I'm making plans of moving in. They tire of me day after day; not dressing, hardly eating

A Letter to No OneThe clock ticked against silence,
Upon the cemetery of a room.
Deep sighs weave through the air,
Meager warmth in compressed despair.

Moths fall prey to a musty lampshade,
An opened window to Night’s gloom.
Thoughts dance like ripples on water,
And clouds on the hiding moon.

A lullaby plays from the gentle sound,
Made by scratching pen on paper.
One story told too many times,
Is voiced from words created.

Though this time revived from lies,
A phoenix forms the ugly truth.
The pen rolls from the wooden desk,
Having served its final use.

Old dusty dolls and teddy bears,
Watched helplessly through glassy eyes.
No star showed to twinkl

The Maiden

Once a being, just once to find,
she blossomed between the folds of time;
a maiden whom no words defined.
Her qualities, such were divine.
A rose which when expressed, would shine
with beauty, love; the words would rhyme
when seen as one, in one so fine.
Ones heart would melt and so did mine.
But life, it is true, was never kind,
to lives of beings like hers and mine.
For things do change, cocoons do split.
Mountains too, shall crush to grit.
Fate is what, none can escape.
Endowed it is; feel free to debate.
She lit in me, an unknown spark,
like fireflies, they spin, they dart,
fascinating the world and I,
Such were t

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Sounds Familiarthere's a dog at home,
and he's tied to the door.
(he can hear the motor run)

he sniffs for the sun,
but daylight can't comfort him.
(he stares at the boarded window)

he has itches to scratch,
while butterflies swell inside.
(his whines sound hoarse)

walls start to grow mold,
as its paper falls off.
(he claws to get out)

spilled milk is now spoiled,
but he laps it up.
(his nose is dry;
starving to be happy)

heater starts to burn,
and the floor starts to melt,
making him cry again.

he's still waiting;
sounds familiar.

nobody told him
that she will leave
without a care.
now he'll die
with no one there.

Slowly StarvingShe swallows satisfaction; calories don't function.

(Heated) Water and I told her;
water won't waste gravity.

she breathed in
scraps of a
wonderful life,
until she melted
down.

(she loved to swim -
sea-burns & headaches;
the way it made
her smile, she
couldn't stop)

her clammy breaths
enraptured
humidity,
as heat felt her
up.

(she wanted to drown -
wayward & dehydrated;
this time it made
her energy
stagnate)

and I told her;
water won't waste gravity.

Parchedhalf-shuttered eyes
stutter, waiting
to just -

found sleep past-noon.
(my bed is smoking -
dry summer.
I soak in this fire;
matches stroke
my body. too tired.

wasting saliva
and dripping
off my skin -
cough on breaths
as I lay back; choking.

fireman calls out
no remorse.)

sirens get hotter soon;
left in the hallway,
waiting to just --

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Submitted: September 26, 2012
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[x]

Human Glitches

by =slowslicksnails, Sep 26, 2012, 8:46:40 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Songs & Lyrics

We live in a world where people
Have become robotic; it's fatal.
And to realize our glitches
Are itches we can not scratch out
From our powered on minds.

We're using it, rusing you, choosing
To rely on a thinking machine
Just to perfect this resolution.
We'll ruin evolution.

Wires connect to my brain,
I can't live without its content.
I'd like to know what it feels like
To be human again.

We breathe in a world where oxygen
Expires our soul and replaces it
With a cold brain and an empty body.
Our defects make us the infection,
That's brought in this disease.

We're losing it, abusing this, fusing
A war inside of ourselves.
To be drugged on this technologic
Error that can't reverse our fix.

Wires connect to my brain,
And causes my flesh to recoil.
I'd like to know what it feels like
To be human again.

(Time lost itself to slow down for
The loading screen programmed in my head.
I can tell by the pixels I have fixed
All these effects that have affected me.
For I have synced my heart to the beat
Of this systematic, not dramatic fashion.)

Wires connect to my brain,
And cut off my nerved sight.
I'd like to know what it feels like,
To be human again.

Spare yourself from this digital life,
This digital device created to devise
Our survival price on lives.

Wires connect to my brain,
I can't live without its comfort
I'd like to know what it feels like
To be human again.

Human Glitchesby =slowslicksnails

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Songs & Lyrics

New song, haven't written a good one in a long time. I hope this is good.

If you could so kindly give me constructive critism -
1. DA's rating thing - impact, vision, technique, impact and why..
2. Weak points?/anything needs fixed?
3. Best points?/your favorite part.
4. Should I change the title?
5. Anything else you want to say..

love 2 2

~~joy 0 0~~

wow 1 1

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~crashmypartyhard Nov 16, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

oh hai
check out my gallery and look for "assignments, etc." folder or whatever. i should have some of the guy with a television for a head in there. decided to write about him for my short story assignment.

~intricately-ordinary Sep 30, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I love your wording. I seriously think that most of your songs could do better as poems, simply because all that fantastic rhythm of inner-line rhyming and intricate wordplay might be lost in the music.
Fantastic

=slowslicksnails Sep 30, 2012 Student Writer

Thank you so much

I make my lyrics poetic on purpose actually for reasons. But yeah, you're right, they'd be fine as poems alone. Then again, lyrics are poems meant to be sung. XP

~crashmypartyhard Sep 27, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

This makes me think of this one dream i had where i was having adventures with a guy who had a television for a head. I'm slowly making a story in my mind about it, and i think i might make it a webcomic or just write it.

=slowslicksnails Sep 27, 2012 Student Writer

Huh, that's a very interesting dream and would be a interesting story! Link it to me if you post it please! Thank you for the fave on this

~crashmypartyhard Sep 27, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

i'll try to actually write it down.
oh, and keep looking on my gallery from time to time for "435 Writing Promts: Dandelion Seed". I'm gonna hint some of it in there--it just turned into that, i'm not quite sure why. I'll try to finish it as soon as i can! (:

=slowslicksnails Sep 27, 2012 Student Writer

Oh, alright, cool thanks! I'll look forward to it

~crashmypartyhard Sep 27, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

kk
(:

=slowslicksnails Sep 27, 2012 Student Writer

~crashmypartyhard Sep 27, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

lol
You should check out some of my other stuff, if you want

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Human Glitches

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