I'm a medicine man with your life's blood on my hands
Show you where I stand, using it to make my list of demands
Commandments, that are heaven sent, drawn across my body
One knee bent, left to lament God's dichotomy
The creator's duality
Creation's mind warped, full frontal lobotomy
Wrap your mind around this,
A galaxy dwelling within your fist
Converse with open palm releasing the life that you miss
Back into the universe
And let it traverse the open planes
Breaking the curse of the completely sane
Coercing the brain with a harmonic verse
Making it reverse and speak succinctly of the pain
Of an adverse strain stemming from the chronic, perv
Elementary school drop out side
Splitting wood chopper ride
The lightning flash photography
Class clown around the rosie
Cheek bone head's up state
License the advent of fated
Meeting place of worship
False God's mix up
A creek without a paddle
Down streaming music ensemble
Cast in iron will you
Explain what you drew
The conclusion of the story
Of my life risked daily
Mail carrier of disease
Ridden hard sell your soul please
Stand by your mankind
Of a big deal of a lifetime
Of your life's working class
Hero of our storied past
Presented with an idea to fight fear
Made clear by broken beers and shattered everclear
Drunken dreams the drunken master sings and scream and bring
Inebriated clarity
Truth found through beer goggles
Blurry models of future intoxicated hovels
Cutting your knees on broken bottles
Left to grovel
Before the gods of hops and barley
Trying to parley a true love
The kind only found in substance-less bars and clubs
While the DJ spins like S and M, Mastering the subs
Dubbed the king of excess, when challenged
His efforts are re-dubbed
Not caring if he seems sexist
Not that the ladies mind they eat it up like licorice
And hard rock
What the eye beholds is irrelevant
When the "I" withholds evidence
It's evident that beauty doesn't matter
When the once elegant mind is left in tatters
All loveliness shatters
When you're more scatter brained than the mad hatter
But at least he was wise in his madness
So, tell me, why is a raven like a writing desk?
I don't know, but figuring it out is like fighting death
Bereft of my once deft wit by the theft of my heart
I split apart and grit my teeth trying to impart
Legit grammatical art fit enough to outsmart
A misfit upstart halfwit who tries to bogart
My moonlit sweetheart and refit her spirit to that of a tart
I cannot
However, forever isn't enough time
Whatever the weather I'm still stuck in a snow blind
Can't decide whether I'm clever enough to seem unkind
Trying to sever the tether between my heart and mind
I wonder, is it better to measure what I lack inside?
My pride abused and misused once caught in the tide
Of an ever-changing perception of my moral outline
Constantly rearranging burdens, all enshrined
Still I find, I lack the fortitude of character
To decide if I have the attitude of an actor
A disaster as my sub conscience searches for a new master
I plaster my face everywhere, have you seen me?
The faster my pace, here and there, I get
The Poet, Logic and Reason by RemyLebeua, literature
Literature
The Poet, Logic and Reason
One word philosophy
A poet is what he had to be
And typically, the veil is thin enough to see
The geography mapped across arms atrophied
By time at sea up a river without a paddle
With thoughts addled, too tired to straddle the saddle
Of salvation from an inner battle where the complex prattles on
About forgone conclusions and bygone delusions
An archetypal contusion that ruins the illusion
Of a drowned ego
Reason being the widow of Logic with legs akimbo
Waiting for understanding to arouse her passion
But an ashen soul doesn't have enough blood to ration
On such a wanton action
So with match in hand she gets burned
Unlike a p
Clinging to a cosmetic aesthetic
Remaining unapologetic
Until they finally get it
A synthetic poetic prophet
Using an emetic of the mouth to make a profit
I got it, I Am mechanical
A whimsical construct, yet so tyrannical
Who solely conducts business with the puritanical
Shackled to a tabernacle filled with cackling jackals
Under an attack of con science
Standing in defiance of the reliance on idolatry
Just not glad to be the epitome of apathy
When giving the eulogy of a prodigy
Who never got to see the new reality
Born from their ingenuity
Torn away now to face ambiguity
And pay the collector of soul's annuity
A proctor, of sorts
Spin docto
Thoughts are swirling, a whirlwind of chemical reactions
In my mind images twirling, impulses can't get traction
A whole fractured into a fration hurling sterling
Understandings at warp speed
I feel the need to sate my curiosity
By slaking my thirst with blasphemy
Waking once again to sounds of agony
Is it a comedy or a tradgedy
When one is not glad to be lost in the halls of their own mind
No matter how ill defined or poorly designed
One should still be inclined to take that swan dive
Into the gray matter confined to their own head
Instead, I seek to peel back the rind, not leaving myself dead
That would be unkind, I find it's e
I'm a medicine man with your life's blood on my hands
Show you where I stand, using it to make my list of demands
Commandments, that are heaven sent, drawn across my body
One knee bent, left to lament God's dichotomy
The creator's duality
Creation's mind warped, full frontal lobotomy
Wrap your mind around this,
A galaxy dwelling within your fist
Converse with open palm releasing the life that you miss
Back into the universe
And let it traverse the open planes
Breaking the curse of the completely sane
Coercing the brain with a harmonic verse
Making it reverse and speak succinctly of the pain
Of an adverse strain stemming from the chronic, perv
Elementary school drop out side
Splitting wood chopper ride
The lightning flash photography
Class clown around the rosie
Cheek bone head's up state
License the advent of fated
Meeting place of worship
False God's mix up
A creek without a paddle
Down streaming music ensemble
Cast in iron will you
Explain what you drew
The conclusion of the story
Of my life risked daily
Mail carrier of disease
Ridden hard sell your soul please
Stand by your mankind
Of a big deal of a lifetime
Of your life's working class
Hero of our storied past
Presented with an idea to fight fear
Made clear by broken beers and shattered everclear
Drunken dreams the drunken master sings and scream and bring
Inebriated clarity
Truth found through beer goggles
Blurry models of future intoxicated hovels
Cutting your knees on broken bottles
Left to grovel
Before the gods of hops and barley
Trying to parley a true love
The kind only found in substance-less bars and clubs
While the DJ spins like S and M, Mastering the subs
Dubbed the king of excess, when challenged
His efforts are re-dubbed
Not caring if he seems sexist
Not that the ladies mind they eat it up like licorice
And hard rock
What the eye beholds is irrelevant
When the "I" withholds evidence
It's evident that beauty doesn't matter
When the once elegant mind is left in tatters
All loveliness shatters
When you're more scatter brained than the mad hatter
But at least he was wise in his madness
So, tell me, why is a raven like a writing desk?
I don't know, but figuring it out is like fighting death
Bereft of my once deft wit by the theft of my heart
I split apart and grit my teeth trying to impart
Legit grammatical art fit enough to outsmart
A misfit upstart halfwit who tries to bogart
My moonlit sweetheart and refit her spirit to that of a tart
I cannot
However, forever isn't enough time
Whatever the weather I'm still stuck in a snow blind
Can't decide whether I'm clever enough to seem unkind
Trying to sever the tether between my heart and mind
I wonder, is it better to measure what I lack inside?
My pride abused and misused once caught in the tide
Of an ever-changing perception of my moral outline
Constantly rearranging burdens, all enshrined
Still I find, I lack the fortitude of character
To decide if I have the attitude of an actor
A disaster as my sub conscience searches for a new master
I plaster my face everywhere, have you seen me?
The faster my pace, here and there, I get
The Poet, Logic and Reason by RemyLebeua, literature
Literature
The Poet, Logic and Reason
One word philosophy
A poet is what he had to be
And typically, the veil is thin enough to see
The geography mapped across arms atrophied
By time at sea up a river without a paddle
With thoughts addled, too tired to straddle the saddle
Of salvation from an inner battle where the complex prattles on
About forgone conclusions and bygone delusions
An archetypal contusion that ruins the illusion
Of a drowned ego
Reason being the widow of Logic with legs akimbo
Waiting for understanding to arouse her passion
But an ashen soul doesn't have enough blood to ration
On such a wanton action
So with match in hand she gets burned
Unlike a p
Clinging to a cosmetic aesthetic
Remaining unapologetic
Until they finally get it
A synthetic poetic prophet
Using an emetic of the mouth to make a profit
I got it, I Am mechanical
A whimsical construct, yet so tyrannical
Who solely conducts business with the puritanical
Shackled to a tabernacle filled with cackling jackals
Under an attack of con science
Standing in defiance of the reliance on idolatry
Just not glad to be the epitome of apathy
When giving the eulogy of a prodigy
Who never got to see the new reality
Born from their ingenuity
Torn away now to face ambiguity
And pay the collector of soul's annuity
A proctor, of sorts
Spin docto
Thoughts are swirling, a whirlwind of chemical reactions
In my mind images twirling, impulses can't get traction
A whole fractured into a fration hurling sterling
Understandings at warp speed
I feel the need to sate my curiosity
By slaking my thirst with blasphemy
Waking once again to sounds of agony
Is it a comedy or a tradgedy
When one is not glad to be lost in the halls of their own mind
No matter how ill defined or poorly designed
One should still be inclined to take that swan dive
Into the gray matter confined to their own head
Instead, I seek to peel back the rind, not leaving myself dead
That would be unkind, I find it's e
Searching for the words in a former clarity
No matter what you've heard nothing's meant to be
It's absurd to cling to an epiphany
A broken dynasty with crumbled walls
Ozymandias had some pretty big balls
Leaving a legacy of shattered halls
But everything dies, all is destroyed
Leaving all advice, in the end, null and void
Technologically splice, become an android
But still the tissue rots and the metal rusts
It's a non-issue when it's still ashes to ashes dust to dust
And I trust that it'll never be enough
To clutch the stuff that dreams are made of
And crush it down to a fine powder
Get a rush snorting it, thoughs get louder
L
She stands alone,
Her arms frozen in an embrace that will never see warmth.
Her pale face, ashen in any weather
As she stands firm and braced against any assault.
Long ago, she had a smile,
But now, it's worn away into a grove where her mouth had once been.
Her feet are anchored deep in the ground as she watches him sleep
Day in
Day out.
Eventually, the trees die
Yet she is still standing,
Strong and tall.
Among the fallen maidens she had once known.
Angelia, Maria, Rosa, Bernadette,
All smashed upon the ground where their protected souls lay,
In slumber and in death.
She is the last left standing,
The cemetery her kingdom,
Shadows Play a Stronger Game by katiekerr, literature
Literature
Shadows Play a Stronger Game
An eagle circles overhead
Again this morning, crying black
And lurid things, another dead
Mouse caught a-talon—body slack
And strung up by its feet—but she,
Alone on her front porch, a tea
In hand (it's scent lost on the air)
And sickness pungent on her palloured
Brow, ignores the skies. She wears
Her worry like a badge of valour,
Endures the sympathetic gazes
Of mice and passersby alike,
As eagles gouge her chest for spaces
In which to build their nests; she'll strike
A match to light a candle, watch
It as it burns against the day,
The barest flicker—shadows play
A stronger game, she thinks. Not much
Can s
I can't seem to find my old lit chat haunts. Can anyone tell me where all the cool writers go to converse?
Also, I have new stuff in my gallery for the first time in two years. You should check it out. ^_^
Wasn't planning on posting anything, but I can't be arsed to figure out how to send messages to more than one person and I'm certainly not going to go through everyone's page, so here it is.
I'm gone. I won't be on anymore in any capacity. I need to get myself together, then once I've done that, I need to maintain. I have an addictive personality so when I find a distraction of some sort, I end up not being able to tear myself from it and it causes a number of problems. DA is one such thing.
To those of you that have been there for me, thank you very much. It means the world to me.
I would say you could catch me on a messenger, but I don'
Thank you for joining , we’re delighted to have you with us. Welcome to the revolution.
We’re quite a busy group. We regularly post prompts and six word challenges for our members to try. So check them out! ALSO, there's a contest running until February that you really ought to participate in.
Welcome to #Written-Imagination and thanks for joining first of all Please remember when your submitting to make sure its to the right folder Please let others know about our new literary group WHOOOP! Check out our creative writing course which is currently in its second stage! If you have any questions, feel free to ask me ^^ Stay Active!