Thursday, January 17, 2008

On a dead body....literally.

Coagulated love

I am so very alone here tonight.
Must suppress any unnatural urge.
My morbid curiosity, a blight.
Tired of work, my guilt begins to purge.

Finished my work with anticipation.
In the freezer lies my object of pain,
and yet it brings me such adoration.
A trip to hell on a one way train.

My morals go right out the window.
I deserve this minute fidelity.
Cold to the touch...I reap what I sow.
This for certain is a delicacy,
And what's best is she can't even say no.

Her silky clumped hair and twisted smile.
Brings me an endless joy from the unlife.
I feel like i've brought this girl down the aisle.
Her tenderness reminds me of my wife.

My pleasure finally comes to an end.
Object 3201, a real pleaser.
A real live woman could never contend.
She's a little warm, back into the freezer.

At my awful house where I am alone,
anger seething.
My wife is asleep, an unworthy clone,
just a teasing.
In our garden I grab a heavy stone,
my heart's grieving.
You see my wife, I do not life her tone,
She's still breathing.

-Your Buddy

winter poem

Scriblings at 4:47

The bed's cold
The bed is always cold.
The bed has always been cold for an eternity.

Winter is cold
Winter is alway's cold
No matter what year, there's always winter.
The bed's cold,
the heating blanket isn't enough

life's cold.
life is unusually cold.
a liquid nitrogen of cold.
Ready to shatter into a million snowflakes.
Snowflakes are underestimated.
the bed's cold.
The are nothing one at a time,
but together they kill.
One snowflake can turn into an avalanche.

The bed's cold, life's cold.
The poor bums outside, fighting snowflakes
one at a time.
Both their life and bed's cold.
The cement is frigid.
Hopelessness is futile, it won't get you warm.
Only liquid fire to fight with,
and unlit cigars, no lights. Just a drop of liquid fire.

One snowflake into an avalanche,
life's cold,
bed's cold,
life's frigid.
Learn to hibernate through winters, or starve.
When things are summery.
Star collecting acorns....
Pessimism is best, your always prepared of winter.

The bed's cold.
The bed was cold, now it's emotionally chilly.
The winter has just started.
It will indulge it's hungry appetite for bum children and emotionally chillybeds.
an ongoing monster

The winter eats you. The winter inside feed's itself.
Late nights and cold beds shouldn't mix,....oil and water.
However hopelessly cold beds make good poetry.
Cold beds make frigid poetry, a winter of words,
and blankets aren't enough.

-Your Buddy

Writing style inspired by the j beck. Subject matter inspired by Thoma's Blake

To Winter
By Thomas Blake

O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors:
The north is thine; there hast thou built they
Deep-founded Habitation. Shake not thy roofs,
Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.
He hears me not, but o'er the yawning deep
Rides heave; his storms are unchain'd, sheathed
In ribbed steel; I dare not lift mine eyes,
For he hath rear'd his sceptre o'er the world.

Lo! now the direful monster, whose skin clings
To his strong bones, strides o'er the groaning
He withers all in silence, and his hand
Unclothes the earth, and freezes up frail lie.

Thursday, January 10, 2008


Your mouth runs of
gossip and ignorance.
Don't you realize
you've changed?
Do you want a treat
for creating deceit in
our friendship that's sweet?
Feel the heat, you make me
so mad and I can't keep my seat
I just gotta beat, beat something
or tweet, squeeze something so tight
until the breath dies and I've saved
the world from lies, lies you comprise.
Yeh, go ahead, roll your eyes,
but you know deep inside that it's

Me to a "friend"

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

Sun dried Kisses

I crush these oranges
upon transparent paper
with rose petals marinated
in perfumed water...
I leave it out to dry.

I love the ability to take
something and make it stay

You kiss my lips and I
leave them to dry.
Sun dried kisses

Monday, January 7, 2008


The ticking of my clock is the only noise I hear.
Is this all there is to my life?
Deceptions, confessions, corrections...
Now I hear pitters.. patters, patterns swirling
through like they always do. Momentum of
the heart still churning, yearning for some kind
actions by a human soul to shed some feelings to fill
the hole, a hole not deep but needs some completion.
It comes back to this, it always does. You care
or you don't, but don't lie to the face that's always
been honest to you. Don't lie, don't feed it bullshit
like you do with the rest of the world. Be true, it's you.
Come on, now do. Don't think it through.
Pick up your life and find anew. You always knew
you'd find a view.
You care or you don't, but don't lie to you.

to me...from me

Sunday, January 6, 2008


Oh, the missing and
the kissing and
the beautiful reminiscing
of reunited lovers!

And everyone is happy, but
I must say I feel crappy and
the moment of the bliss
makes me PISS.

from me to a guy.... yes, I'm venting... what better way to do it, than through poetry?

Paper Clip

Our relationship
Is like a paper clip
bending back and forth
until it gets agitated
and hot and I have to

To a guy from me...

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Final Project: Evidence

The Barber shop

My ‘fro was ridiculously awesome.
Nine inches off my ridiculous head.
Mom thinks its too black, hood, and tiresome.
Way too far back to the 80s junction.

It must be cut she says in her tone.
Might as well stab me right through my tired heart,
Its not like I’m rockin braids or some chrome.
Not a gangsta, She won’t leave me alone.

I call my pops with his trip whipped hooptey.
I’m minutes from losing my identity.
Was expecting dad to say something tryin’.
Off to the cultural guillotine I should be cryin.

there is a thick musty spell of burnt hair,
Just a room full of humid tired bones.
People waiting patiently gasping air.
A child is astonished but it’s fair.

The barbers work with uncanny precision,
One profession where misses are deadly.
Hopefully the razor won’t be God’s decision.
I wonder if they have emergency provisions.

With a few passes of the fast razor.
My fro has passed onto the floor.
Now I’ve become a race traitor.
Time to go rob some banks and make myself greater.

Ode to an Urn in the closet

It's too bad you had to leave us so soon.
You had a lot ahead of you but now,
your in our closet, right next to the broom.
You should have dodged that bus but no....kapow.
You were too busy on your dumb ipod.
Brain too busy with practice, work and school.
So you were busted onto the thirsty sod.
So now you have plenty of time on your hands.
Stingy bastard have fun on celestial organs abroad.

Well…it’s no where near as bad as I thought.
Everything seems a little too sterile here.
The people are too nice like they are bought.
Something is wrong everything is too clear.
An uncomfortable warmth comes upon me.
Followed by a burning inferno of pain.
OMFG! I’m in hell please let me free!
Satan smiles at me and I’m a little sad,
But after what I’ve been through this isn’t so bad.

We’re in trouble

O no why did you spill that on the floor.
She just waxed it you know? Your craziness.
Sneak in the kitchen you are a food hoar.
Punched in the stomach your brain will be hazy.

Why did you write your teacher that dummy?
You must like to stay in your bed all day.
Well I don’t really care its your tummy.
Sneak in the kitchen tonight if you may.

I can’t believe I got into a fight.
Those stupid bullies just won’t let me be.
Bonnie won’t care, she will punish on sight.
I might have to try to dig myself free.

I just woke up and she wants me to clean.
My bed is not made, but why do I care.
Just wait of my wash cloth for me to ream.
Its just morning and I’m all out of steam.

I got caught playing games yesterday night.
I had thought she turned out all of her lights.
Nope, she was awake watching with a sight.
And now I am alone and in a fright.

I’m a bit lonely what a trouble maker.
He’s always in bed, something he must said.
He lied didn’t deny, try to fake her.
She saw through the disguise and now he’s in bed.

Judgement Life Death and Sentence (named by Camille P.)

I don’t like her very much she’s trouble.
Don’t listen to me, it’s not my feelings.
But when you get screwed don’t come reeling.
She likes both you and your stupid stubble.
Sirens going off, warning signs double.
Puppy love I don’t know what your seeing,
Few months, you’ll see, your heart will be bleeding.
Your are going to date that piece of rubble.
Nothing is sacred now a days, for shame.
I’ll go to your brothers and make some bets.
She’ll dump your ass and you’ll be blind, deaf, lame,
While I’ll be in the money and don’t you forget,
I’m right about everything it’s all the same.
Make your own mistakes, your bros are in debt!

We Stroll down a problem free life each day.
Relations never sour with your soul mate.
Gazing into glowin’ eyes you speak away,
Of true passionate love that by far is great.
Seems too swell to be true, I’m positive;
But we are an embodiment of love.
Might as well live the life we wanna live.
Space can’t get in our way we’ll push and shove-
Past our rents and onto the lonely train.
Into a week long embrace that soon ends,
But we know true love will maintain.
An angel in flesh….truly a god send.
I’ve never been happier in my whole life.
I’m going to ask this lady to be my wife.

She tells me that a ticket I don’t need.
Fantastic news you are coming down town?
She is still born baby silent….I frown.
She talks in a teary voice,”we can’t succeed.”
In this beautiful relation she concedes.
I feel blind, deaf, dumb, dead and beaten down.
I say everything’s fine….The word resounds.
“There’s been someone else” my heart starts to bleed.
All this time I’ve been counting off the days.
She says he’s a placeholder next to her-
In bed. She said she wanted to be true.
I squirm, this is all a bad dream, she says-
She wants to still see me. Something I dread.
She whispers she’s sorry and I love you.

Hum, you can’t be serious how is she right.
Everything seemed perfect, it was torture.
You and Bee were ridiculously tight.
Mom kept saying that I wasn’t for her,
But I grit my teeth and I just deny.
I will not tell mom nor will I comply
…..she already knows she’s a secret agent spy
I havn’t told anyone she sees through the lie.
Silently humble her vampiristic
Elation of my troubled misery
I feel a need for emotional difilbrilation
Why would such trouble come to be.
At the end of the day mommy is right.

Only few days did I cry through the night

Ya Got it?

What ever you do deny, deny, deny.
Into ridiculous hours we stayed late.
Don’t tell mom and don’t comply

She already know’ she’s a secret agent spy.
If you give too many details you will be sedate.
What ever you do deny, deny, deny.

You were not eating candy it’s not a lie
Just remember the truth that you are to state
Don’t tell mom and don’t comply.

You didn’t play stupid games you didn’t even try
Act as smooth as possible she knows your traits.
What ever you do deny, deny, deny.

She might make up things and she will try.
She’s a mental extortionist don’t add nothing to your slate.
Don’t tell mom and don’t comply.

We had a good time our rooms now a sty.
Do good in school so we can have another date
What ever you do, deny, deny ,deny.
Don’t tell Mom and don’t comply


Who would make me write about my mother,
Is there anyone actually tougher?
Dr. Robbins of course.
Her hand she will force.
Bets on who’s mentally tougher.

We’re pretty much screwed in the long run,
We’re not safe if we’re under the sun.
We’ll be buried alive.
Our oxygen depreived.
Or we could be shot from a gun.

But I heard iron maidens are great
Who knows what is exactly at stake?
Our blood will splatter.
Bones likely to shatter.
We’re in a potentially painful check mate

Not saying its all your fault.
Just hoping walls you can vault.
Cause I know mom can.
With bags filled with san’.
We may need plan, this is the default.

Here in lies evidence undeniable.
Are your body guards even reliable.
I’m saying beware.
Your in for a scare.
who knows..........................................