Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

"I wanna write a love poem, with poisoned veins that
>> spit out LOVE words because it’s just so damned
>> sick.
>> Tooty fruity in your pants after hours blah blah
>> blah April and May showers poem.
>> I wanna write a hate poem where I sacrifice a
>> man-verse instead of a man-child because babies cry
>> too much.
>> F-U-C-K on the walls in red paint that stains my
>> hand so that you know it was me!
>> It’s gonna haunt you in your sleep while your
>> lullaby song skips and the dangling cigarette butt
>> burns your lips, while your bulging panty-line rips
>> it ships out at noon back round 12 to take you to
>> hell cuz you’ve been a bad boy.
>> “I’ve died and gone to prison” He said, behind
>> the bars. “They cheated me out of 25 percent”.
>> I wanna write a sex poem sticking things between my
>> ears because I always forget where my womanhood is
>> While my consonants get nookie my constants keep
>> changing their minds and I realize now maybe it is
>> just typing and not writing and after that I was
>> continually hounded by bastards in cheap thongs who
>> kept telling me to fill in the blanks.
>> I will go to bed and sleep for nights and days to
>> finally awake one night, old, bent, and withered...
>> spreading my seed across desolate plains, and
>> feeding the VOID,
>> Then I’ll write a quite poem, where the pages go
>> to sleep on beds of deadened roses, where even cars
>> speed up to go nowhere fast, where even you and I
>> remain silent in a field of burning political
>> confusion,
>> Struggling over whether or not it’s just proximity
>> infatuation, left with nothing but the noise.
>> I wanna write a poem man, so will you please…
>> ...Open a window
>> ...Light a candle
>> ...Blow a whistle
>> ...Sing a perverted song
>> ...Bust my chops so I don't get fired
>> ...Comb my hair cuz it's nappy now
>> ...Devirginize my ears (they're too sensitive today)
>>
>> ...Feed me lines
>> ...Breathe me breath
>> ...Comprehend my sheer insanity
>> ...Enlighten my eyes
>> ...Flip me off
>> ...Put me in jail
>> ...Rip me to shreds
>> ...Fix me a drink
>> ...Relight my goddamn cigarette thank you!
>> ...Order my public execution
>> ...Come to watch
>> ...Kick over the stool
>> ...Hear me squeal
>> ...Name the color my face turns as I choke
>> ...Record the time and date at the exact moment I
>> give the fuck up and stop breathing
>> ...Shed a hypocritical tear in lament for my passing
>>
>> ...Clean the ropes for sinner #2
>> ...Dump my body in a ditch
>> ...Walk away, and stop reading this miserable shit."
>>

Well for a start....

lose the >>

I wanna read it backwards but I mustn't go against the flow!

I believe you just wrote a love poem, with poisoned veins!

You really put your finger on the pulse of love!

"Bastards in cheap thongs" can I just say UGH!!!Whoever invented the thong needs to be strung up by one and left dangling......sexay!!!!! The day I'll wear a thong is the day someone can bounce a quarter off my ass and catch it in their teeth! the quarter I mean....not my ass!!!!

This was a rather interesting little ditty Izy....I felt all warm and cosy inside, soft and fuzzy. Ain't love grand!

Ah, but when Izy gets bit by the little love bug we shall see then what she writes......Shakeyspeare watch out!

"'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe."

See, the love poem's been done and done to death and done well and well done!

Now this, what you've writ, is a trippy little, jivey little romp down twisted lane.....and I like....I likey...some good stuff in here Izy.
You touched a nerve with...."I will go to bed and sleep for nights and days to finally awake one night, old, bent, and withered..."
( I just looked in the mirror.....the nightmare come to life!)


Was this write a ramble that flowed from mind to fingers to page? Did it come in one sitting? I like when that happens and it turns out so well.

Anyway, good-bye this is getting as long as your "love poem".
"Walk away, and stop reading this miserable shit."

Just walk away!

Thanks for the read Izay!!!!

I can never write poems in more than one sitting. I have tried... but it always felt false, as if I had lost the moment fovever in a spiral of my own guilt and confusion. I'm glad you like this. I spit it out like poison in the veins in a manner of minutes and tried to make you hear the pain. Pain? Pain.

--k