Blanked the Blank Out on New Years Eve

[izeveryboyin]

* This poem is a collaboration of me with my good friend Kelly. All of these words are not my own, I was merely a rider on this train of poetic passion, as was she. it's not really an open jam, but it was when she and I wrote it. You wanna contribute though, I'm all for it!! Enjoy!

In that year, the bowls of sugar were empty.
And I spilled a tear down the crack on the side.
The sweet sugar of this year turned sour, and the smell of death filled my eyes.
I was stroked with the sadness, and the cries of filthy burning candle wicks,
Fading upon the window.
Lights flickering gloriously,
In the calm summer.
Soon winter!
Lights grow dim and white darkness fills the air.
And I am drowning in it.
I can feel it piercing through my lungs,
Forcing me to breathe out it's ugliness,
But I would not open up to see it's terror.
Exhaling,
My breath dry and hot and reaking of the smell of past sorrows .
All those little things I died for, and in a sense...
Was resurrected, to relive them.
It was a maddening horror that year,
A build up of suppressed pointless thoughts.
Thoughts of trecherous storms and I thought it mattered , But it never did.
I died simply because.
And no one came to mourn me,
So I was left a floating soul,
Lost somewhere in the western hemisphere, and crying, Because beauty is lost.
So I went to that old familiar table where we drank and sang and fucked in the night.
Bleeding from smiles and sighs of our bitter, drunken copulation.
Tantalizing, and mesmerizing, and hypnotizing.
We grew wings together, you see...
All of us died flying.
Flying in a spiral into a dimension of tears made of sandstone
And eyes blinded by music and rubies.
This is where it came apart.
Yes, upon the broken table, we knew things, and shared those stories.
Our lives were worthless, and mirthless.
Life was a cruel joke of reality,
Trying to make God laugh.
And satan cry.
And it worked.
Went as smooth as oil on glass,and the chosen one bled orange.
Coughing up something purple and pulsing on the dining room floor,
And then, so starved and hungry from the heat of Hell's fire,
Devoured it whole.
And it beat in our stomachs as pulses of light, and we saw how the light was timeless and how essentially,
Light and time were the same.
Instead of existing within this light, we played games of darkness,
Until the children of the night came back from their horrible nightmares.
At the same time, playing hide and seek in and out of the shdows thrown out own by their own souls.
Never once explaining to the infantile mind what it really means to be trapped, and hidden,
Until, we ask for help, that will never come.
"We'll sleep it off", she said.
And sleep it off we did til the approach of the dark horse.

[stilltrucking]

when the sugar bowl is empty I know the nightmares will come

making satan cry, I like that,

no need to make god laugh, he is the trickster. The goddam who demands human sacrifice is back in charge. The white faced god is overthrown. We live among The Things Of New World.
Poetry never died, just god.




high blood sugar always seems to give me nightmares.

God is not mocked except by believers.

very good work gonzo girl
thanks
to your friend too

[izeveryboyin]

sadly enough, we don't talk like we used to. it's been awhile. i miss her. thanks for reading and appreciating.


--k

[mousey1]

And appreciate I did.

You gotta be pretty in sync to collaborate that well, I think.

Thank-you for sharing this,
I'll have to read it agin and agin

[izeveryboyin]

please do!! I'm very glad we were interesting enough for you!!

--k