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The Poetry Corner
- Thread starter ahhGucci
- Start date
Echoes of a Sinner
Sliver tears caress my cheek as I try to dodge your hits.
Don't come any closer, I can already smell the imported vodka on your hot breath.
My only hiding place is the bathroom.
I try to emancipate myself from your chains but something was always holding me back.
Slim lines of cocaine streak the broken mirror that you smashed with your fist.
I become trapped in a corner of deceit as the smoke from my Marlboro Red cigarette taints the air.
I quickly spray cheap perfume around the room to disguise that enmity you have for me.
You kicked me, threw me into the ground and watched me suffer as heroin-tipped needles grazed my body.
Baby, I hate it when you're like this. You cause me too much pain.
I've been through enough.
I hold my breath and pray to God that I will faint behind your back.
You see me fall and I hear you faintly calling my name.
I soon revive and I'm shocked that you're holding me in your arms.
You kiss my blood-stained lips and undress me, revealing scars that will stand by me forever. We make love on our creaky bed as uncovered nail polish remover burns my cuts.
I look up into the ceiling and try to envision stars, but you are always in my way.
Maybe tomorrow will be a better day to mend my broken soul.
By Me
Sliver tears caress my cheek as I try to dodge your hits.
Don't come any closer, I can already smell the imported vodka on your hot breath.
My only hiding place is the bathroom.
I try to emancipate myself from your chains but something was always holding me back.
Slim lines of cocaine streak the broken mirror that you smashed with your fist.
I become trapped in a corner of deceit as the smoke from my Marlboro Red cigarette taints the air.
I quickly spray cheap perfume around the room to disguise that enmity you have for me.
You kicked me, threw me into the ground and watched me suffer as heroin-tipped needles grazed my body.
Baby, I hate it when you're like this. You cause me too much pain.
I've been through enough.
I hold my breath and pray to God that I will faint behind your back.
You see me fall and I hear you faintly calling my name.
I soon revive and I'm shocked that you're holding me in your arms.
You kiss my blood-stained lips and undress me, revealing scars that will stand by me forever. We make love on our creaky bed as uncovered nail polish remover burns my cuts.
I look up into the ceiling and try to envision stars, but you are always in my way.
Maybe tomorrow will be a better day to mend my broken soul.
By Me
Pete Doherty
Pete is a wannabee legend, is a fool, is a love, is a melodic genius.
Pete’s eyeballs turn to glass as his needles drip purple haze & the London cameras record his train wreck of a rocker’s life.
The ebony hair falls into stringy, unwashed cigarette smoke shoelaces over Pete’s view.
His eyes freeze over like frozen chocolate as the acid turns sickly-
Sweet raw like persimmon in Pete’s blood.
Asking for forgiveness is not in Pete’s world.
Pete has better sh*t to do.
Pete throws up hit underground songs like “Can’t Stand Me Now”, “Down in Albion”, ”La Belle Et La Bete” and F**k Forever” from his metal strings.
We can’t say the lyrics because Pete sang, “They can’t play this on the
radio!”
I realize that my task is to preserve Pete’s sound, Pete’s life, the music of The Libertines, Babyshambles.
Pete is a liar, is an addict, is a disgrace, is my LSD PCP narcotic anti-drug irony, or however the f**k you want to call it.
By me
Pete is a wannabee legend, is a fool, is a love, is a melodic genius.
Pete’s eyeballs turn to glass as his needles drip purple haze & the London cameras record his train wreck of a rocker’s life.
The ebony hair falls into stringy, unwashed cigarette smoke shoelaces over Pete’s view.
His eyes freeze over like frozen chocolate as the acid turns sickly-
Sweet raw like persimmon in Pete’s blood.
Asking for forgiveness is not in Pete’s world.
Pete has better sh*t to do.
Pete throws up hit underground songs like “Can’t Stand Me Now”, “Down in Albion”, ”La Belle Et La Bete” and F**k Forever” from his metal strings.
We can’t say the lyrics because Pete sang, “They can’t play this on the
radio!”
I realize that my task is to preserve Pete’s sound, Pete’s life, the music of The Libertines, Babyshambles.
Pete is a liar, is an addict, is a disgrace, is my LSD PCP narcotic anti-drug irony, or however the f**k you want to call it.
By me
Random
In this moment, I see a red dragon stapler breathing its hot breath on the dying paper.
Beside it is a dainty rose milk syrup honey enclosed in plastic.
The fuchsia marker creeps silently across the yellow calendar thing.
And that graffitied white black item is still in my way.
These are all things, everything is still everything.
By me
In this moment, I see a red dragon stapler breathing its hot breath on the dying paper.
Beside it is a dainty rose milk syrup honey enclosed in plastic.
The fuchsia marker creeps silently across the yellow calendar thing.
And that graffitied white black item is still in my way.
These are all things, everything is still everything.
By me
Untitled
Love is a cold winter’s snow dripping from your eyes as I kiss your rosebuds.
My love is tainted by your touch.
I’m hesitant to come through, baby springtime is so near.
The heat rises as you kiss my coffee cup then suddenly we tip over as espresso raindrops melt inside the white frost.
That white frost powders my eyelashes as cigarette smoke veils my past.
Pain is nothing when I’m with you.
My snowman always kept you distant but that will soon change.
Baby all you have to do is just breathe on me.
As my ice turns into a pool de amore, it’s open for you to swim.
Roses surround our bodies and its essence fills our lungs as we exhale sweet memories.
Things might get a little crazy and a bottle might shatter but you are always here to help me pick up the pieces.
The flowers might bloom but that glisten of ice on your lips will always be there to remind us of what once was….
By Me
Love is a cold winter’s snow dripping from your eyes as I kiss your rosebuds.
My love is tainted by your touch.
I’m hesitant to come through, baby springtime is so near.
The heat rises as you kiss my coffee cup then suddenly we tip over as espresso raindrops melt inside the white frost.
That white frost powders my eyelashes as cigarette smoke veils my past.
Pain is nothing when I’m with you.
My snowman always kept you distant but that will soon change.
Baby all you have to do is just breathe on me.
As my ice turns into a pool de amore, it’s open for you to swim.
Roses surround our bodies and its essence fills our lungs as we exhale sweet memories.
Things might get a little crazy and a bottle might shatter but you are always here to help me pick up the pieces.
The flowers might bloom but that glisten of ice on your lips will always be there to remind us of what once was….
By Me
them 
xxit-boy's nature
Member
- Joined
- Nov 18, 2005
- Messages
- 526
- Reaction score
- 2
Awful is the thrill of midnight
fictional is the of idea ease
critical are the trimmings of horror,
i feel when the clock strikes
degrees
no longer is time within grasp of numbers
but only tempature fits in the concept,
that midnight is to blame
for the way that i feel,
practically it's my favorite time of day,
the whole day's done it's it's job,
so much has happend in 24 hours,
it disallows me to write down every bit of wrong
only terror can grace these pages,
only i can capture these faces,
midnight faces in my dreams,
midnight thinking's absolutely free.
fictional is the of idea ease
critical are the trimmings of horror,
i feel when the clock strikes
degrees
no longer is time within grasp of numbers
but only tempature fits in the concept,
that midnight is to blame
for the way that i feel,
practically it's my favorite time of day,
the whole day's done it's it's job,
so much has happend in 24 hours,
it disallows me to write down every bit of wrong
only terror can grace these pages,
only i can capture these faces,
midnight faces in my dreams,
midnight thinking's absolutely free.
youarearockstar
utterly superfluous
- Joined
- Oct 4, 2005
- Messages
- 9,724
- Reaction score
- 102
Smitten
I felt smitten
as I swallowed my heart
like a pound of glass
shattered by the weight
of your eyes. An
instantaneous rapport
that latched onto
stray shards before
they hit their acerbic pit.
Each gaze here after
revives these blades until
I'm left purging feelings
once buried six feet
under the skin of my
soul. Confessing
my every thought
of you in hopes that
their Virgin intentions
might bind and
coerce you into
expelling your own
heart. Upon which
I would jump at the
chance to feel
you open up &
swallow your love
as if it were Mine.
(by me)
I felt smitten
as I swallowed my heart
like a pound of glass
shattered by the weight
of your eyes. An
instantaneous rapport
that latched onto
stray shards before
they hit their acerbic pit.
Each gaze here after
revives these blades until
I'm left purging feelings
once buried six feet
under the skin of my
soul. Confessing
my every thought
of you in hopes that
their Virgin intentions
might bind and
coerce you into
expelling your own
heart. Upon which
I would jump at the
chance to feel
you open up &
swallow your love
as if it were Mine.
(by me)
youarearockstar
utterly superfluous
- Joined
- Oct 4, 2005
- Messages
- 9,724
- Reaction score
- 102
Ten to Twelve
if the heart of this
male weighs ten
to twelve ounces
and the female eight to
ten does this explain the
weight of this porcine,
obese altogether heavy
hearted feeling a
blow to mine
sends malign down
the base of my spine,
radiating at all
times through my
frame? does this excuse
the urges to show
loves and love nots,
the world over exactly
how distraught i tend
to become when
ten to twelve ounces
is broken and bled
out, and flooding the
streets red with me
for them to see?
(by me)
if the heart of this
male weighs ten
to twelve ounces
and the female eight to
ten does this explain the
weight of this porcine,
obese altogether heavy
hearted feeling a
blow to mine
sends malign down
the base of my spine,
radiating at all
times through my
frame? does this excuse
the urges to show
loves and love nots,
the world over exactly
how distraught i tend
to become when
ten to twelve ounces
is broken and bled
out, and flooding the
streets red with me
for them to see?
(by me)
youarearockstar
utterly superfluous
- Joined
- Oct 4, 2005
- Messages
- 9,724
- Reaction score
- 102
Thanks rrr, I was really nervous to post them! I'm glad to hear that you liked them...if I get the courage up later, I'll post some other ones. I was reading through yours too and thought they were really great as well! Random was particularly great.
youarearockstar
utterly superfluous
- Joined
- Oct 4, 2005
- Messages
- 9,724
- Reaction score
- 102
Two Sides
1.
He often thinks that he has ripened in the moment of success,
When he lies in his bed with another conquest of sorts,
Knowing he’s an undertow, from which they can’t evade.
For his bed and his body combine as a vice and a clutch,
Which seize and strangle unsuspecting prey, foolish enough,
To ever think that his words or lips could serve more than himself.
He basks in the afterglow of a fresh kill, of knowing that he has,
Added another heart to the files which lie tarnished beneath,
Them both, and will be pressed and smashed with the weight of,
The two sides of the bed.
2.
He believes himself to be in love, and knows the feeling well,
As he lies comfortably intertwined and inside a love, and longs,
For their waking, and for the myth he calls a relationship, to continue.
Having been swept away, and out to sea, and forced so off kilter,
He is sure that this love was worth the pain of longing, and willingly gives,
Entrance, and his soul to the man he thinks he can call his own.
He basks in the afterglow of success, of getting the prize,
No longer longing to know that touch, for he now owns it,
And places it in his heart, that will be obliterated by the weight of,
The two sides of the bed.
1.
He often thinks that he has ripened in the moment of success,
When he lies in his bed with another conquest of sorts,
Knowing he’s an undertow, from which they can’t evade.
For his bed and his body combine as a vice and a clutch,
Which seize and strangle unsuspecting prey, foolish enough,
To ever think that his words or lips could serve more than himself.
He basks in the afterglow of a fresh kill, of knowing that he has,
Added another heart to the files which lie tarnished beneath,
Them both, and will be pressed and smashed with the weight of,
The two sides of the bed.
2.
He believes himself to be in love, and knows the feeling well,
As he lies comfortably intertwined and inside a love, and longs,
For their waking, and for the myth he calls a relationship, to continue.
Having been swept away, and out to sea, and forced so off kilter,
He is sure that this love was worth the pain of longing, and willingly gives,
Entrance, and his soul to the man he thinks he can call his own.
He basks in the afterglow of success, of getting the prize,
No longer longing to know that touch, for he now owns it,
And places it in his heart, that will be obliterated by the weight of,
The two sides of the bed.
youarearockstar
utterly superfluous
- Joined
- Oct 4, 2005
- Messages
- 9,724
- Reaction score
- 102
untitled
I feel your baser urges
Shine brighter burn
Stronger against
My back as you lie
Next to me
Like a saint feeling
Uneasy to smile
Until I have first
For all the times
I tried to appear
Better taste sweeter
And appease your nature
I wonder what
Changed to make
Your breath adulterously
Linger over me
What was I before
That couldn’t be loved
Truly appreciated completely
Yet now you
Feel strongly about
How I feel pressed
Against your chest
Waiting for the move
I feel your baser urges
Shine brighter burn
Stronger against
My back as you lie
Next to me
Like a saint feeling
Uneasy to smile
Until I have first
For all the times
I tried to appear
Better taste sweeter
And appease your nature
I wonder what
Changed to make
Your breath adulterously
Linger over me
What was I before
That couldn’t be loved
Truly appreciated completely
Yet now you
Feel strongly about
How I feel pressed
Against your chest
Waiting for the move
satin chic
Active Member
- Joined
- Oct 25, 2005
- Messages
- 4,976
- Reaction score
- 12
Bumping.
I'm a bit anxious to post this...
Laurel
Daphne, my dear,
who were you
to reject
the love
given to you
only? Affection
is not perpetually
florid, you'll learn,
and you aren't either.
You have grown
anesthetized to dedication
by accident, you say,
no love potions
for you and your
intellectual heart.
And now you lay
claim to what you've missed
by actual fault
and ignorance
to the fact that
things can change.
Daphne, my dear,
I'm sorry to say
you missed the train
out of your
insignificant
state of being.
{by me}
I'm a bit anxious to post this...
Laurel
Daphne, my dear,
who were you
to reject
the love
given to you
only? Affection
is not perpetually
florid, you'll learn,
and you aren't either.
You have grown
anesthetized to dedication
by accident, you say,
no love potions
for you and your
intellectual heart.
And now you lay
claim to what you've missed
by actual fault
and ignorance
to the fact that
things can change.
Daphne, my dear,
I'm sorry to say
you missed the train
out of your
insignificant
state of being.
{by me}
youarearockstar
utterly superfluous
- Joined
- Oct 4, 2005
- Messages
- 9,724
- Reaction score
- 102
^No need to feel anxious at all, satin. That was beautiful. I love your word choice for "anesthetized to dedication," how beautifully severe.
One more that I dug up from last year. I'm not big on puncuation since to me, it denotes complete thoughts, a form of thinking which I rarely embody. Make sense of what you can:
Parity:
another repetitious battle to circumvent
my uncannily nauseating catharsis
that like the blind is
privy
prone to misguide me
and pry me
towards the musings
if not dramatics that i
struggle to abandon
all the while
never near enough towards
the resolution
that functioning
humanity exhibits with baited grace
and i remember the words of
my Parity:
“you were born to be a junkie”
in praise of my “slippery silver fish”
devised to personify
a bastard
misbegotten catharsis of
the recent distant all
together coercive
past formerly
prone to misguide me
and pry me
until i exploited
the secret ability
to contextualize
in these verses and
stanzas and rambling
arguments
that inconsequentially
realign
reaffirm the life
support symbiotic
to my Parity and i.
One more that I dug up from last year. I'm not big on puncuation since to me, it denotes complete thoughts, a form of thinking which I rarely embody. Make sense of what you can:
Parity:
another repetitious battle to circumvent
my uncannily nauseating catharsis
that like the blind is
privy
prone to misguide me
and pry me
towards the musings
if not dramatics that i
struggle to abandon
all the while
never near enough towards
the resolution
that functioning
humanity exhibits with baited grace
and i remember the words of
my Parity:
“you were born to be a junkie”
in praise of my “slippery silver fish”
devised to personify
a bastard
misbegotten catharsis of
the recent distant all
together coercive
past formerly
prone to misguide me
and pry me
until i exploited
the secret ability
to contextualize
in these verses and
stanzas and rambling
arguments
that inconsequentially
realign
reaffirm the life
support symbiotic
to my Parity and i.
I am burning
yearning
living
learning
loving
hating
f*cking
fighting
screaming
yelling
devastated
understanding
who I am
seeing
looking
hearing
searching
smiling
hiding
vacant,
these feelings
this is becoming who I am
she looks through me
sees the ugly
knows the truth beyond the beauty
she fights me
holds me
scares me
she could destroy me
with just one stare
yearning
living
learning
loving
hating
f*cking
fighting
screaming
yelling
devastated
understanding
who I am
seeing
looking
hearing
searching
smiling
hiding
vacant,
these feelings
this is becoming who I am
she looks through me
sees the ugly
knows the truth beyond the beauty
she fights me
holds me
scares me
she could destroy me
with just one stare
Wow.... long time no posts 
*bump*
where do people go,
when their hearts beat no more.
where do people go,
when they swim and swim
but do not see no shore
anymore.
where do people go,
may they sleep in cloudy beds,
up up in the sky,
watching birds going by and then
never know, what will be
when their hearts beat again.
(by me)
*bump*where do people go,
when their hearts beat no more.
where do people go,
when they swim and swim
but do not see no shore
anymore.
where do people go,
may they sleep in cloudy beds,
up up in the sky,
watching birds going by and then
never know, what will be
when their hearts beat again.
(by me)
fashionkitten7
Active Member
- Joined
- Sep 30, 2004
- Messages
- 5,109
- Reaction score
- 39
^ That's beautiful, nijuyanah! I love it.
