This shows you the differences between two versions of the page.
| Both sides previous revisionPrevious revisionNext revision | Previous revision | ||
| poetry:notorious_slips [2017/05/23 00:34] – oemb1905 | poetry:notorious_slips [2019/08/14 15:17] (current) – removed oemb1905 | ||
|---|---|---|---|
| Line 1: | Line 1: | ||
| - | Part I Scraping of the brackish lips. | ||
| - | Insults aimed at being swift. | ||
| - | of salt on untamed tongues. | ||
| - | touching storm-like prayers of death | ||
| - | aimed at them to heal, | ||
| - | but water the roots of hellish foliage. | ||
| - | Quickly stepping victim taps the | ||
| - | pavement with souls | ||
| - | Repeating drums of walking; through | ||
| - | quiet clean downtown streets. | ||
| - | Looking for solutions and questions | ||
| - | that he never could ask. | ||
| - | left hurt … n | ||
| - | left injured | ||
| - | a Soul was torn; by steel fibers scraped of aging | ||
| - | doors in winter sun | ||
| - | against his cold heart, like bad | ||
| - | thoughts. | ||
| - | He recalls what brought this on. | ||
| - | Speaker of storm; | ||
| - | torturing reservoirs until overflow. | ||
| - | incoherent responses causing sleepish | ||
| - | drifting in wonderland. | ||
| - | bring me home and dis’confuse me now. Part II | ||
| - | Solved problems take me quickly to beds of | ||
| - | nails; | ||
| - | piercing flesh, bone against metal. | ||
| - | life against confusion. | ||
| - | still and smooth, against my bones. | ||
| - | tranquil, like sunday sun at Pancake | ||
| - | breakfast. | ||
| - | On sleep in days during important | ||
| - | bliss. well, bliss; | ||
| - | |||
| - | TV Shows recalling in brain-speed quickness | ||
| - | police-car flashes calling back fear and | ||
| - | thrill of nightmare layers of muck surrounding | ||
| - | city, oil stained, streets of grease. | ||
| - | Slippery Matchbox vehicles lighting the | ||
| - | field up with everlasting pain and smog. | ||
| - | busses. | ||
| - | reading for unknown places knowing | ||
| - | not that they know nothing and go | ||
| - | nowhere organized. | ||
| - | by the swift scheduled tinkling of RTD bus | ||
| - | routes at constant RTD speeds and | ||
| - | smog trails, all day … all day long. | ||
| - | deathly stinking economical environmental | ||
| - | song of fallacy. | ||
| - | evil of evils that didn’t cause too much | ||
| - | turmoil. | ||
| - | that’s life before flashing pains of | ||
| - | metal. | ||
| - | |||
| - | Part III | ||
| - | |||
| - | feet squeezing into the piercing points until | ||
| - | the nails fall off in simultaneous militaristic | ||
| - | order. | ||
| - | pain with me. | ||
| - | |||
| - | Anger with Pain and pain yelled with | ||
| - | no avail. | ||
| - | crack’ tapping Rain in the head of hurt. | ||
| - | toss turn twinkle tank! Anger overcomes Pain | ||
| - | and Rage is made. | ||
| - | |||
| - | Here me now, in this transition state. | ||
| - | reaching the shore with undulating softness | ||
| - | and wave-like sun-shine … shinin’ … beauty. | ||
| - | Rage, an old man yelling by himself at | ||
| - | hidden images in the sky’s clouds at night | ||
| - | I feel Rage (Kaya) and glee (in me). | ||
| - | bell’s ringing and the day came and went | ||
| - | back to wait longer for this soul cursed | ||
| - | more riot than any criminal’s last-minute | ||
| - | fight against the surping blood drinkers. | ||
| - | |||
| - | Yeah, life. Yeah … , life. To strife and … | ||
| - | pulsating patience. | ||
| - | brain until I can’t wait any longer. | ||
| - | |||
| - | Eternity reached by the door closing with | ||
| - | my submissive requests. | ||
| - | and seeing my way across the | ||
| - | chains on my wrists. | ||
| - | |||
| - | well it is come to end | ||
| - | and time to be quiet | ||
| - | responsibility and sterile | ||
| - | sex for me. | ||
| - | |||
| - | Know me, though. | ||
| - | sanctuary forgets to call, and know that you can | ||
| - | gleam in the shadows of my | ||
| - | rip-tide. That you may bask in the | ||
| - | sun of m’ knowledge and swim | ||
| - | in my dreams of butterfly strokes. | ||
| - | |||
| - | … you’ll be with me, to experience my | ||
| - | glory ad be eternally mine. | ||
| - | … on my chest against my breast | ||
| - | forgiving patiently | ||
| - | |||
| - | waiting for my love | ||
| - | to elevate you to | ||
| - | shores of sensual | ||
| - | … incensed turmoil. | ||
| - | |||
| - | Loving this possibility and seeing stars | ||
| - | to prove the day against the skeptical | ||
| - | soldiers and beats that counter you. | ||
| - | I love you, whoever you are. I do. … I do. | ||
| - | End my life … destroy my family | ||
| - | I will leave | ||
| - | and end up right at the railroad greenery and | ||
| - | shut down in emptiness on broken tracks | ||
| - | with evening sunshine knowing’ness. | ||