Well, well all my friends, hope you are all well and doing all kinds of cool things.
I send you all my Love.
Oh and just so you know. I am free again.
For I am sure as you have read that I was lost for a minute again.
No more taking care of foolish friends.
I am once alone again.
Free of all malicious things.
Bad thoughts and miss guids.
We are all fools at times, it is just how long are you willing to cover your eyes.
My eyes are open, my ears are clean so I can here and I can smell you a mile away bringing your drama this way.
This disease that I call foolishness, last about the length of a cold.
But to others it could be an eternity of foolishness and abuse.
Like I said to some it my be a life time.
But to me it just makes my walls higher and me stronger.
So I must say to you my friends that crazy Flow is back again.
Doors are closed for foolishness but bring the fun
and all that really good shit.
No drama.
No insecure Mother Fuckers.
Just the ones that know what they want.
The ones that know what I have.
The ones like me.
Loving
Caring, Open and Free.
So all and all we are very fucking happy.
Hope the best for all my friends and you too.
(Never hate anyone no matter what they do, forgiveness is the why to go, if you ask me dude.)
Love You All
FlowRyder
altho this was posted in my diary I feel the need to share this with those who have nt read it yet..
and she sighs
stick a needle in her eye
Why cant she let this one go
why cant she let him know
how she really feels,
how tortured, and how bad she feels,
yet she still cares
after her scared her
not just once, or twice,
She stayed up many nights
crying herself to sleep,
she couldnt count sheep.
All she wanted was to be the perfect girlfriend,
Giving hime what he wanted no matter what it took. This shook her ...
He took her, and changed her
He burned her,
he slappped her
once he even choked her.
She was qute broke but managed to support him
She was tired and had to ease his pain
had he no shame?
Whats his game?
She is chronically ill
Now sahe is on so many pills
and getting the skills.
Yet she looks back
and still remembers
whack for whack
on her backside
for dissagreeing with him.
Sex hasnt been the same for her.
Anxiety attacks start to strangle her
her thoughts of him and his roughness
mangle her
yes she is still here
and she is still strong,
and now she is free
Good Bye, with faery kisses & faery dust....
and she sighs
stick a needle in her eye
Why cant she let this one go
why cant she let him know
how she really feels,
how tortured, and how bad she feels,
yet she still cares
after her scared her
not just once, or twice,
She stayed up many nights
crying herself to sleep,
she couldnt count sheep.
All she wanted was to be the perfect girlfriend,
Giving hime what he wanted no matter what it took. This shook her ...
He took her, and changed her
He burned her,
he slappped her
once he even choked her.
She was qute broke but managed to support him
She was tired and had to ease his pain
had he no shame?
Whats his game?
She is chronically ill
Now sahe is on so many pills
and getting the skills.
Yet she looks back
and still remembers
whack for whack
on her backside
for dissagreeing with him.
Sex hasnt been the same for her.
Anxiety attacks start to strangle her
her thoughts of him and his roughness
mangle her
yes she is still here
and she is still strong,
and now she is free
Good Bye, with faery kisses & faery dust....
I feel your love
like a glove,
that suffocates me
I cant breathe,
I cant be
I cant see
Dont blame me,
Why is everything my fault?
Why does he rub salt
into my wounds
into my eyes
He made my cry
I wanted to die
and again I sigh
with disbelief
as to how free I am
I dont want to be like that again
I was trapped,
and felt as if there was no way out
I had to scream and shout.
I would even pout
but nothing seemed to work
Still he went bezerk
Pushing my head down til I turned blue
Once I threw a shoe
and knocked over a mirror
that was also the day
the day it all changed,
I felt deranged
tears in my eyes,
rolling down my face
bits of the mirror
shattered all over
I look at my life,
only to see how tattered it once was.
How flattered I once was,
he wanted to touch me
he wanted to punch me
he wanted to choke me, and
eventually he broke me
like a young mare
take a good long stare
my hazel eyes,
my disguise,
behind the dark veil
I become impaled
over and over,
eventually I just lay there, trying to forget
trying to forgive.
I didnt want to live
But now Im free
and all I wanna be
is happy, but its hard
I lay there at nite getting flashbacks,
whack for whack, getting tortured
for fun, but it wasnt fun for me
Good Bye, with faery kisses & faery dust....
like a glove,
that suffocates me
I cant breathe,
I cant be
I cant see
Dont blame me,
Why is everything my fault?
Why does he rub salt
into my wounds
into my eyes
He made my cry
I wanted to die
and again I sigh
with disbelief
as to how free I am
I dont want to be like that again
I was trapped,
and felt as if there was no way out
I had to scream and shout.
I would even pout
but nothing seemed to work
Still he went bezerk
Pushing my head down til I turned blue
Once I threw a shoe
and knocked over a mirror
that was also the day
the day it all changed,
I felt deranged
tears in my eyes,
rolling down my face
bits of the mirror
shattered all over
I look at my life,
only to see how tattered it once was.
How flattered I once was,
he wanted to touch me
he wanted to punch me
he wanted to choke me, and
eventually he broke me
like a young mare
take a good long stare
my hazel eyes,
my disguise,
behind the dark veil
I become impaled
over and over,
eventually I just lay there, trying to forget
trying to forgive.
I didnt want to live
But now Im free
and all I wanna be
is happy, but its hard
I lay there at nite getting flashbacks,
whack for whack, getting tortured
for fun, but it wasnt fun for me
Good Bye, with faery kisses & faery dust....
the disgrace
that I placed on your face
after you slapped me
after you choked me
When I awoke
you were still there
You didnt care..
I didn't dare
say no
for fear of a sharp blow
I dont want any marks to show
Dont give up on yourself
dont stop loving yourself
evil is everywhere
you could be running your fingers through
his hair
Sometimes you have to take a chance
if you dare
and take a good look...
Good Bye, with faery kisses & faery dust....
that I placed on your face
after you slapped me
after you choked me
When I awoke
you were still there
You didnt care..
I didn't dare
say no
for fear of a sharp blow
I dont want any marks to show
Dont give up on yourself
dont stop loving yourself
evil is everywhere
you could be running your fingers through
his hair
Sometimes you have to take a chance
if you dare
and take a good look...
Good Bye, with faery kisses & faery dust....
name me this and call me that
pull the name from the wrinkled hat
buried in the back of his mind
hiding with lost & stollen time
worn on top of the swollen head
walking the earth while he's dead
remorsfully corrupted hands
unforgiven and broken man
what's in a name? When is it done?
What is the path? Where'd it come from?
a blood stained family member
creating the future story
about his own falling tower
her seductive sinful glory
spinning the truth for eager ears
getting past all the meager years
the broken souls and empty stares
hollow smiles dirty underwear
caked on belief crusted on pain
withered relief barely humane
someone....
please tell me what's in a name
because....
people are fake, friends are insane.
Copyright Velocity Chyaldd (2003)
Know who you are and become that person because there isn't any shame left anymore!
pull the name from the wrinkled hat
buried in the back of his mind
hiding with lost & stollen time
worn on top of the swollen head
walking the earth while he's dead
remorsfully corrupted hands
unforgiven and broken man
what's in a name? When is it done?
What is the path? Where'd it come from?
a blood stained family member
creating the future story
about his own falling tower
her seductive sinful glory
spinning the truth for eager ears
getting past all the meager years
the broken souls and empty stares
hollow smiles dirty underwear
caked on belief crusted on pain
withered relief barely humane
someone....
please tell me what's in a name
because....
people are fake, friends are insane.
Copyright Velocity Chyaldd (2003)
Know who you are and become that person because there isn't any shame left anymore!
God I love you! You always seem to take my breath away..
Good Bye, with faery kisses & faery dust....
Good Bye, with faery kisses & faery dust....
Love 2 you to darlin.... 
Know who you are and become that person because there isn't any shame left anymore!
Know who you are and become that person because there isn't any shame left anymore!
The terror that's inside
the hollow of your eyes
is raining all the time
fighting it's way out
I hear the bell that rings
with the trouble that you sing
disguising everything
what's it all about?
So low down below
wicked wind will blow
another simple soul
tender meat Hobo
The Lily on your head
the danger in your bed
is killing you instead
filling you with doubt
I feel the pain dilate
from the center that you hate
where good things go to waste
serenity drought
So low down below
wicked wind will blow
another simple soul
tender meat Hobo
a twenty dollar bill
is giving you your fill
of dick that sucks the will
like a dead girl scout
another poisoned man
is taking all he can
from the girl that used to stand
a walking blackout
So low down below
wicked wind will blow
another simple soul
tender meat Hobo
Copyright Velocity Chyaldd (2003)
Know who you are and become that person because there isn't any shame left anymore!
the hollow of your eyes
is raining all the time
fighting it's way out
I hear the bell that rings
with the trouble that you sing
disguising everything
what's it all about?
So low down below
wicked wind will blow
another simple soul
tender meat Hobo
The Lily on your head
the danger in your bed
is killing you instead
filling you with doubt
I feel the pain dilate
from the center that you hate
where good things go to waste
serenity drought
So low down below
wicked wind will blow
another simple soul
tender meat Hobo
a twenty dollar bill
is giving you your fill
of dick that sucks the will
like a dead girl scout
another poisoned man
is taking all he can
from the girl that used to stand
a walking blackout
So low down below
wicked wind will blow
another simple soul
tender meat Hobo
Copyright Velocity Chyaldd (2003)
Know who you are and become that person because there isn't any shame left anymore!
Taking in the sun and breathing in the light;
Watching the lives tumble by in glitter bliss.
Dancing in basements that are portals to the cosmic soul abyss.
In those wee hours of morning glory and sight;
Where Liberty is a MISS!
Through warmth the love the NYC night.
Watching the lives tumble by in glitter bliss.
Dancing in basements that are portals to the cosmic soul abyss.
In those wee hours of morning glory and sight;
Where Liberty is a MISS!
Through warmth the love the NYC night.
I did a search for 'The voice of God'... and I clicked on a page from here... it was a peom from....umm.. somethingXYZ I forget the name... I'm from Chicago.. I know people in the Bronx though.. near gunhill rd. People from Harlem too. We'll talk about Chicago and NY later though... I just wanted to write something.... since her poem was so good...
With the voice of creation..every sinsation..is from duplication.. of the feelings of our nation, which is..a vision.. from the past.. that still last... in scripture.. see the picture? Ghettos like mine.. where murder rates climb.. in the midst of big buildings that shine... of money and power.. we on the streets every hour.. day and night.. fighting the fight...for freedom from our city...children in playgrounds that's gritty.. but it's still heaven... on the inside.. there's still pride... for real.. as we are thankful for the struggle.. where life is juggled... in the hands.. on money... where the presure creates minds.. like my kind..
With the voice of creation..every sinsation..is from duplication.. of the feelings of our nation, which is..a vision.. from the past.. that still last... in scripture.. see the picture? Ghettos like mine.. where murder rates climb.. in the midst of big buildings that shine... of money and power.. we on the streets every hour.. day and night.. fighting the fight...for freedom from our city...children in playgrounds that's gritty.. but it's still heaven... on the inside.. there's still pride... for real.. as we are thankful for the struggle.. where life is juggled... in the hands.. on money... where the presure creates minds.. like my kind..
who defines the mental aspects?
of the neglect for reality
in peoples terms?
what about people who yearn..
whos souls burn.. with desire..
to retire.. the cage.. of reality
to become.. removed..
to feel the rapture.. to be captured..
by.. visions..
of the immpossible...which is..
in reality.. possible..
words that work.. for the cause..
for the chains.. that detain..
the possibility.. of humanity..
how do I deal w/ my so called 'insanity'..
easily.. with my so called 'vanity'..
and then time stops.. voids are filled..
answers are given..
no more life threats filled with regret..and
disrespect..
no more feelings of unhappiness.. or happiness..
just feelings..
of something.. of nothing...of..
whatever.
nothing to clever..or stunnin..
but no more running.. from myself..
or my mental health..
because I'm a genius...
I don't know. I just comes out like that..
of the neglect for reality
in peoples terms?
what about people who yearn..
whos souls burn.. with desire..
to retire.. the cage.. of reality
to become.. removed..
to feel the rapture.. to be captured..
by.. visions..
of the immpossible...which is..
in reality.. possible..
words that work.. for the cause..
for the chains.. that detain..
the possibility.. of humanity..
how do I deal w/ my so called 'insanity'..
easily.. with my so called 'vanity'..
and then time stops.. voids are filled..
answers are given..
no more life threats filled with regret..and
disrespect..
no more feelings of unhappiness.. or happiness..
just feelings..
of something.. of nothing...of..
whatever.
nothing to clever..or stunnin..
but no more running.. from myself..
or my mental health..
because I'm a genius...
I don't know. I just comes out like that..
Welcome to The Motherboards and to Verbal abuse...Go on with your fine self. I Like your raps. Let's hear some more.
Went to Stones concert.
Dropped acid.
Met far out hippy boy from Alaska.
Went back to his pad and balled all night.
He gave me crabs.
Hope he writes.
Dropped acid.
Met far out hippy boy from Alaska.
Went back to his pad and balled all night.
He gave me crabs.
Hope he writes.
I turn to wonder
which route to take to freedom
and realize I don't know where I'm going.
A constant
start and stop.
Getting nowhere
as fast as I can.
Like running in place.
It feels almost like exercise
But it's an inner workout
that takes awhile to see the results.
Wheels turning
thoughts into words into actions.
Churning out ideas
that give pause to wonder.
That is what happens
when I think to much
instead of just flowing.
Sometimes a falling leaf
is just a falling leaf.
Sometimes it's
an advance warning
of falls approach.
But it doesn't always mean
that the sky is falling.
which route to take to freedom
and realize I don't know where I'm going.
A constant
start and stop.
Getting nowhere
as fast as I can.
Like running in place.
It feels almost like exercise
But it's an inner workout
that takes awhile to see the results.
Wheels turning
thoughts into words into actions.
Churning out ideas
that give pause to wonder.
That is what happens
when I think to much
instead of just flowing.
Sometimes a falling leaf
is just a falling leaf.
Sometimes it's
an advance warning
of falls approach.
But it doesn't always mean
that the sky is falling.
I am diggin all the new work posted.Havoc I enjoyed you words. I am from Chicago and picked up on the images instantly! Thanks for changin the vibe!
the birth of creation
the launch of gestation
i reel, i reel
my heart skips a thump
as my boy takes a dump
that, my family, is love
i reel, i reel
i write the right
and i fight the flight
stay right here
'cause my heart sheds a tear
when i gaze his brown orbs
i reel, i reel
pinch myself to see where i am
look down at my feet, at where i stand
damn!
i real, i real
the launch of gestation
i reel, i reel
my heart skips a thump
as my boy takes a dump
that, my family, is love
i reel, i reel
i write the right
and i fight the flight
stay right here
'cause my heart sheds a tear
when i gaze his brown orbs
i reel, i reel
pinch myself to see where i am
look down at my feet, at where i stand
damn!
i real, i real
I wrote a couple yesterday.. but I'll post one..
Shop till you drop....
(no title)
You only know what you see... you only believe what you feel..
the light hits your eyes.. and your visions become .. 'real'..
your brains says its soo...
creating your life...your understandings....of this world..
you fear the pain..the struggle and strain..
and go through it anyway everyday in vain...
you yearn for smiles..happiness..and prosperity....
enjoyable times...maybe from reading...joyful poetry lines..
all the while..
time has you in it's grasp...
as the addictions of this material world last...
the addictions to the emotions....like... love that..
can be as deep as the oceans...
though oceans of the abyss... our reality is amiss..
our true selves blinded by feelings...
everyday dealings.. of those around us...
family, as an unfortunate circumstance..
keeps us rooted in our lives...
in our reality...
leading us to believe that we.. 'exist'..
though this material world is nothing more then mist..
a dream.. a scheme..a test...
to pump out.. beings that are...'blessed'..
chosen.. golden...
we all have fallen...here..to earth.. from grace..
so now.. we race...
like rats... to our destination...
and some to riches..but the lucky... to realization..
of the real.. situation...
and to become removed from devistation...which this creation..
will enter..
as invisible angels..fly the sky....
because time has actually stoped....
just in time for christmas....
which is the birth of a new reason for people to....
shop..
Shop till you drop....
(no title)
You only know what you see... you only believe what you feel..
the light hits your eyes.. and your visions become .. 'real'..
your brains says its soo...
creating your life...your understandings....of this world..
you fear the pain..the struggle and strain..
and go through it anyway everyday in vain...
you yearn for smiles..happiness..and prosperity....
enjoyable times...maybe from reading...joyful poetry lines..
all the while..
time has you in it's grasp...
as the addictions of this material world last...
the addictions to the emotions....like... love that..
can be as deep as the oceans...
though oceans of the abyss... our reality is amiss..
our true selves blinded by feelings...
everyday dealings.. of those around us...
family, as an unfortunate circumstance..
keeps us rooted in our lives...
in our reality...
leading us to believe that we.. 'exist'..
though this material world is nothing more then mist..
a dream.. a scheme..a test...
to pump out.. beings that are...'blessed'..
chosen.. golden...
we all have fallen...here..to earth.. from grace..
so now.. we race...
like rats... to our destination...
and some to riches..but the lucky... to realization..
of the real.. situation...
and to become removed from devistation...which this creation..
will enter..
as invisible angels..fly the sky....
because time has actually stoped....
just in time for christmas....
which is the birth of a new reason for people to....
shop..
HavoK once again u rock! I am gonna take the holiday theme up!
Sung to TITS this Season?
Tis the season to be gothic
FA LA LA LA LA LA LA
Put amphetimens in your coffee
Fa LA LA LA LA LA LA
Wear your underwear as if they were clothes,
Fa LA LA LA LA LA LA
Shag a bunch of wierdos you don't know
FA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA!!!!!!!
Sung to TITS this Season?
Tis the season to be gothic
FA LA LA LA LA LA LA
Put amphetimens in your coffee
Fa LA LA LA LA LA LA
Wear your underwear as if they were clothes,
Fa LA LA LA LA LA LA
Shag a bunch of wierdos you don't know
FA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA!!!!!!!
Is that how it's goes down in new york? of course it does!...
that shag someone you don't know line has inspired me...
at first glance..first dance... the begining..of a
romance..with
no words....
only bass from subwofers...smell of gin on breath..
but sexy still... as the
night..
we 'touch'... in only candle light..
only hour later...
still no names..no games...
and 'heavy petting'
(i've always wanted to say that!)...
heavy sweating... letting go..and emotions flow..
moving slow, then fast.....
up...then down.. side to si.....ooopps!...
(play it off w/ a kiss).. back to up down...then..
finally...
she asked my name..
damn. there goes the 'mystery' element...
what a night!
that shag someone you don't know line has inspired me...
at first glance..first dance... the begining..of a
romance..with
no words....
only bass from subwofers...smell of gin on breath..
but sexy still... as the
night..
we 'touch'... in only candle light..
only hour later...
still no names..no games...
and 'heavy petting'
(i've always wanted to say that!)...
heavy sweating... letting go..and emotions flow..
moving slow, then fast.....
up...then down.. side to si.....ooopps!...
(play it off w/ a kiss).. back to up down...then..
finally...
she asked my name..
damn. there goes the 'mystery' element...
what a night!
Yes we shag alot in NYC. I always dug that word a friendly fuck...sigh
Galaxy Fuzz,
Climbing mountains and touching them stars.
I've got a filly in my arms.
Just me playing cowgirl and wondering do we get the blues?
Yup that Colorado got a sky but nothing compares to my girlfriend's thighs..
Ye muther fuckin to the Haw Ya"ll!
Galaxy Fuzz,
Climbing mountains and touching them stars.
I've got a filly in my arms.
Just me playing cowgirl and wondering do we get the blues?
Yup that Colorado got a sky but nothing compares to my girlfriend's thighs..
Ye muther fuckin to the Haw Ya"ll!
ok... here's mine for the day... *clears throat*
behind the wall,
of flesh and beauty..
lies the soul...
of the one I seek...
with odds that are bleek..
the perfect mate with ..
the perfect thighs..
eyes.. waist.. chest/ I mean breast..
lips.. the sway of her hips...
hair...her stare... her..
voice..
and her choice..
to speak...
to me...or not..
to speak..
if looks could kill..
it will,
with that glare..
I'm lookin for someone who's like me...
whos lookin for someone who's like them (I just made that up....hehehe)
likes the athletic type..
black...w/ light skin...
light eyes..
brown hair.. few cares...
likes lap dances in chairs...
for free..
who..likes all of me..
the good and bad..
happy and sad (awwwwww)...
for richer... or..
richer...
behind the wall,
of flesh and beauty..
lies the soul...
of the one I seek...
with odds that are bleek..
the perfect mate with ..
the perfect thighs..
eyes.. waist.. chest/ I mean breast..
lips.. the sway of her hips...
hair...her stare... her..
voice..
and her choice..
to speak...
to me...or not..
to speak..
if looks could kill..
it will,
with that glare..
I'm lookin for someone who's like me...
whos lookin for someone who's like them (I just made that up....hehehe)
likes the athletic type..
black...w/ light skin...
light eyes..
brown hair.. few cares...
likes lap dances in chairs...
for free..
who..likes all of me..
the good and bad..
happy and sad (awwwwww)...
for richer... or..
richer...
white noise ever perpetual
so relentless & skeptical
every channel and magazine
promoting fear and margerine
bright teeth, vanishing creme, & war
white virgins, and the bachelor
are in your living room tonight
filling & numbing your eyesight
white noise ever perpetual
hyperactive, habitual
in your radio and headphones
the messages that they condone
pretty people and money spent
Britney Spears and 50 cent
they are talking to you today
who you should be what you should say
white noise ever perpetual
so conventional and continual
like so much drivel
boring and ineffectual.
(Copyright) Velocity Chyaldd 2003
"If you don't practice your magick it will practice you."
so relentless & skeptical
every channel and magazine
promoting fear and margerine
bright teeth, vanishing creme, & war
white virgins, and the bachelor
are in your living room tonight
filling & numbing your eyesight
white noise ever perpetual
hyperactive, habitual
in your radio and headphones
the messages that they condone
pretty people and money spent
Britney Spears and 50 cent
they are talking to you today
who you should be what you should say
white noise ever perpetual
so conventional and continual
like so much drivel
boring and ineffectual.
(Copyright) Velocity Chyaldd 2003
"If you don't practice your magick it will practice you."
midnite gurl on a deserted street
walking fast alone and creeped
fair maidens never leave the house
fair maidens never leave the spouse
midnite gurl all alone all alone
just traveling into the unknown
midnite gurl without her telephone
just rambling running on her own
midflight gurl is walking in the rain
walking fast away from the pain
good gurls always have a chaperone
but good gurls they do what they're told
midnite gurl all alone all alone
just traveling into her unknown
midnite gurl without her telephone
just rambling running on her own
midfright gurl sticks out her sore thumb
sucking it hiding from the dumb
fears awake in front of her face
she is in search of a better place
midnite gurl all alone all alone
just traveling into her unknown
midnite gurl without her telephone
just rambling running on her own
midfight gurl all over the world
waking up today, tail unfurls
standing up to the attack
getting it right on the payback
Copyright Velocity Chyaldd (2003)
"If you don't practice your magick it will practice you."
[This message was edited by Vulgaras on 02-29-04 at 09:22 AM.]
walking fast alone and creeped
fair maidens never leave the house
fair maidens never leave the spouse
midnite gurl all alone all alone
just traveling into the unknown
midnite gurl without her telephone
just rambling running on her own
midflight gurl is walking in the rain
walking fast away from the pain
good gurls always have a chaperone
but good gurls they do what they're told
midnite gurl all alone all alone
just traveling into her unknown
midnite gurl without her telephone
just rambling running on her own
midfright gurl sticks out her sore thumb
sucking it hiding from the dumb
fears awake in front of her face
she is in search of a better place
midnite gurl all alone all alone
just traveling into her unknown
midnite gurl without her telephone
just rambling running on her own
midfight gurl all over the world
waking up today, tail unfurls
standing up to the attack
getting it right on the payback
Copyright Velocity Chyaldd (2003)
"If you don't practice your magick it will practice you."
[This message was edited by Vulgaras on 02-29-04 at 09:22 AM.]
For Perfidia 1990
Miracles can happen.
Like the time I was
a man that became a woman
that became the man that I am.
Did the heel fit?
And the illusion of powder and pancake
that is the reflection
in the mirror
that you stand before
awaiting "her" arrival.
Not like the sisters who walk by night
down by the docks looking for the rent
from somebody's lost husband.
Afraid to ask for a cock,
afraid to look in the mirror of themselves
to see what they find.
Asking themselves over and over,
"Who is the she in me?"
"Who is the she in me?"
The gentle sway of hips
that are connected
to legs deep in hose
and feet swollen in pumps.
Doing the Connie Girl strut
and the Rupaul Stroll.
Causing heads to turn
all up and down the Avenue,
lost in that lipstick high
with dreams so full to bursting.
I'm in a hormone state of mind.
Self induced PMS so bad
it bubbles within
ready to burst forth
at any easy moment
up against your head
motherfucker.
The long corridors of suitors,
pockets full, ready to worship.
And the homage is paid in full.
Lost in the ruins of a Disney dream
where Peter Pan is a gay man,
where Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty
rush home before morning
like Anne Rice vampires
to beat the sunrise
of a newly stubbled face.
Are you that girl with something extra?
Donning lies like garments of illusion,
gender bending past confusion,
causing heartache contusions,
while waiting for that magic carpet ride
to carry you across the river
to a paradise of believers?
Excuse me Miss,
do you have this pump
in an eleven and a half?
Miracles can happen.
Like the time I was
a man that became a woman
that became the man that I am.
Did the heel fit?
And the illusion of powder and pancake
that is the reflection
in the mirror
that you stand before
awaiting "her" arrival.
Not like the sisters who walk by night
down by the docks looking for the rent
from somebody's lost husband.
Afraid to ask for a cock,
afraid to look in the mirror of themselves
to see what they find.
Asking themselves over and over,
"Who is the she in me?"
"Who is the she in me?"
The gentle sway of hips
that are connected
to legs deep in hose
and feet swollen in pumps.
Doing the Connie Girl strut
and the Rupaul Stroll.
Causing heads to turn
all up and down the Avenue,
lost in that lipstick high
with dreams so full to bursting.
I'm in a hormone state of mind.
Self induced PMS so bad
it bubbles within
ready to burst forth
at any easy moment
up against your head
motherfucker.
The long corridors of suitors,
pockets full, ready to worship.
And the homage is paid in full.
Lost in the ruins of a Disney dream
where Peter Pan is a gay man,
where Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty
rush home before morning
like Anne Rice vampires
to beat the sunrise
of a newly stubbled face.
Are you that girl with something extra?
Donning lies like garments of illusion,
gender bending past confusion,
causing heartache contusions,
while waiting for that magic carpet ride
to carry you across the river
to a paradise of believers?
Excuse me Miss,
do you have this pump
in an eleven and a half?
Attachments
Images (1)
-2 Pretend War-
Wild women are hideing behind yer back
Fountains of experience they attack
The painted ladies are poised like cattle
They're just chain smokeing before their battle
the youngest young ones are scratching their heads
cuz they still don't know which ones are the dead
the danceing muggles suck the music dry
and feeling thinkers fuck the humble pie
we're kissing rapists inside of our sleep
downloading victims becuz they cum cheap
all over dashboards an unhappy crash
meeting our faces with the welcum trash
it's just thick like thieves and the animal
just raping ourselves we're cataclysmal
I wish we could live just like vicoden
I wish we could be our own jungle gym
honest like children with forever sun
and killing the jade without the gold gun
copyright Velocity Chyaldd (ascap) 2004
Wild women are hideing behind yer back
Fountains of experience they attack
The painted ladies are poised like cattle
They're just chain smokeing before their battle
the youngest young ones are scratching their heads
cuz they still don't know which ones are the dead
the danceing muggles suck the music dry
and feeling thinkers fuck the humble pie
we're kissing rapists inside of our sleep
downloading victims becuz they cum cheap
all over dashboards an unhappy crash
meeting our faces with the welcum trash
it's just thick like thieves and the animal
just raping ourselves we're cataclysmal
I wish we could live just like vicoden
I wish we could be our own jungle gym
honest like children with forever sun
and killing the jade without the gold gun
copyright Velocity Chyaldd (ascap) 2004
I Got Sent Flowers
I got sent flowers, then I think what for
My last three years were torment
Yet you never opened up your heart's door
My heart is broke in a thousands pieces, my body so well spent
While you held onto grudges, never thinking what it meant
But I got sent flowers, then I think what for
When all I needed was a big brother
Who would open up his heart's door
Instead I got treated like just another
Stranger, who just got shown the door
The Love of my life is dead
Yet, you found time, to knock her in the end
Recalling all the things she ever did and said
When what I needed was a brother who would also be my friend
You held onto your grudges, of over 20 years
When you could have held your brother
Comforting each other's fears
Remembering back to a time when we only had each other
But I got sent flowers and I think what for
My relationship with you is shattered
I know it can be no more
Yet, your grudges were all that seemed to matter
But I got sent flowers, and I wonder what for
When all I wanted was my brother to rise above his feelings and open up his door
I would have reached out to him and given him so much more
Instead I got sent flowers, and I think what the fuck for
I got Sent Flowers
I got sent flowers, then I think what for
My last three years were torment
Yet you never opened up your heart's door
My heart is broke in a thousands pieces, my body so well spent
While you held onto grudges, never thinking what it meant
But I got sent flowers, then I think what for
When all I needed was a big brother
Who would open up his heart's door
Instead I got treated like just another
Stranger, who just got shown the door
The Love of my life is dead
Yet, you found time, to knock her in the end
Recalling all the things she ever did and said
When what I needed was a brother who would also be my friend
You held onto your grudges, of over 20 years
When you could have held your brother
Comforting each other's fears
Remembering back to a time when we only had each other
But I got sent flowers and I think what for
My relationship with you is shattered
I know it can be no more
Yet, your grudges were all that seemed to matter
But I got sent flowers, and I wonder what for
When all I wanted was my brother to rise above his feelings and open up his door
I would have reached out to him and given him so much more
Instead I got sent flowers, and I think what the fuck for
I got Sent Flowers
"evilvoyeur" has stopped using the computer at 12:52:19 PM, and is now considered idle.
allors (1:12:58 PM): you munching on a bunch?
allors (1:13:50 PM): sipping a coconut?
allors (1:15:03 PM): chipping the ice out of the ice box?
allors (1:17:22 PM): taking a break?
allors (1:17:52 PM): shaking a leg?
allors (1:20:18 PM): puff'n a fag?
allors (1:20:44 PM): cutting a rug?
allors (1:21:18 PM): aiken to bake?
allors (1:21:42 PM): glad it's friday?
allors (1:22:12 PM): chomping your bit?
allors (1:22:49 PM): shivering like sh*t?
allors (1:23:23 PM): or just plain something?
"evilvoyeur" has started using the computer again at 1:26:01 PM.
allors (1:26:22 PM): :-)
merlinator 121004
allors (1:12:58 PM): you munching on a bunch?
allors (1:13:50 PM): sipping a coconut?
allors (1:15:03 PM): chipping the ice out of the ice box?
allors (1:17:22 PM): taking a break?
allors (1:17:52 PM): shaking a leg?
allors (1:20:18 PM): puff'n a fag?
allors (1:20:44 PM): cutting a rug?
allors (1:21:18 PM): aiken to bake?
allors (1:21:42 PM): glad it's friday?
allors (1:22:12 PM): chomping your bit?
allors (1:22:49 PM): shivering like sh*t?
allors (1:23:23 PM): or just plain something?
"evilvoyeur" has started using the computer again at 1:26:01 PM.
allors (1:26:22 PM): :-)
merlinator 121004
Too many dreams to fill one nightmare,
and people ask, 'why, do yah sleep?'
and ah say, 'ah have had enough pain,
and a dream may not always be reality.
(got a tune for this?)
love, merlinator 021805
and people ask, 'why, do yah sleep?'
and ah say, 'ah have had enough pain,
and a dream may not always be reality.
(got a tune for this?)
love, merlinator 021805
"tobacco villanelle", found in a newsgroup:
Symphony in Smoke
from Harper's Bazaar
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet,
Who likes to muse and take her ease,
She loves to smoke a cigarette;
To dream in silken hammockette,
And sing and swing beneath the trees,
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet.
Her Christian name is Violet;
Her eyes are blue as summer skies;
She loves to smoke a cigarette.
As calm as babe in bassinette,
She swingeth in the summer breeze,
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet.
She ponders o'er a novelette;
Her parasol is Japanese;
She loves to smoke a cigarette.
She loves a fume without a fret;
Her frills are white, her frock *cerise*, --
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet.
She almost goes to sleep, a yet,
Half-lulled by booming honey-bees,
She loves to smoke a cigarette.
A winsome, clever, cool coquette,
Who flouts all Grundian decrees, --
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet
That loves to smoke a cigarette.
Symphony in Smoke
from Harper's Bazaar
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet,
Who likes to muse and take her ease,
She loves to smoke a cigarette;
To dream in silken hammockette,
And sing and swing beneath the trees,
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet.
Her Christian name is Violet;
Her eyes are blue as summer skies;
She loves to smoke a cigarette.
As calm as babe in bassinette,
She swingeth in the summer breeze,
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet.
She ponders o'er a novelette;
Her parasol is Japanese;
She loves to smoke a cigarette.
She loves a fume without a fret;
Her frills are white, her frock *cerise*, --
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet.
She almost goes to sleep, a yet,
Half-lulled by booming honey-bees,
She loves to smoke a cigarette.
A winsome, clever, cool coquette,
Who flouts all Grundian decrees, --
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet
That loves to smoke a cigarette.
Dead Origami in the Rain
One lone dead paper bird lay ruined, lost, damp and cold,
Embossed upon the wet well-traveled grey-cemented sidewalk.
Crisp school bus-yellow paper art, drew notice to the archeological site,
Fallen from reverent, precious, articulated fingers of a disappointed child?
The once eternal gift, rendered such unexpectedly short-lived significance,
Abandoned, ancient, prostrate, un-succourable origami Terradactyl.
Dead Origami in the Rain.
Merlin 032805
One lone dead paper bird lay ruined, lost, damp and cold,
Embossed upon the wet well-traveled grey-cemented sidewalk.
Crisp school bus-yellow paper art, drew notice to the archeological site,
Fallen from reverent, precious, articulated fingers of a disappointed child?
The once eternal gift, rendered such unexpectedly short-lived significance,
Abandoned, ancient, prostrate, un-succourable origami Terradactyl.
Dead Origami in the Rain.
Merlin 032805
So many great poems here. Keep up the great work in Part two.
This is one of my poems that is published and I just want to share it with you all.
Screaming
The crashing of glass being broken.
The screams of anger.
The crashing of words colliding.
The screams of broken teeth.
The crashing of fists slamming in the other opposite of me.
The screaming of yourself in your head telling you to run away.
The crashing of you getting slammed in the wall.
The screaming of your bones breaking.
The crashing of a knife slicing your stomach.
The screaming in the dark.
The crashing to the floor.
The final scream as you lie on the floor slowly dying.
Ashley Carroll
Copyright ©2005 Ashley Carroll
Screaming
The crashing of glass being broken.
The screams of anger.
The crashing of words colliding.
The screams of broken teeth.
The crashing of fists slamming in the other opposite of me.
The screaming of yourself in your head telling you to run away.
The crashing of you getting slammed in the wall.
The screaming of your bones breaking.
The crashing of a knife slicing your stomach.
The screaming in the dark.
The crashing to the floor.
The final scream as you lie on the floor slowly dying.
Ashley Carroll
Copyright ©2005 Ashley Carroll
OK... so i met a blokie down in Jamaica who writes poetry ... when he's in NYC he wants to attend some poetry events, go to workshops etc... whats the 411? What basic stuff can i tell him.. he's young an rootsy....
Anyone?
Anyone?
Anna Nicole: send him to the Bowery Poetry Club at Bleeker.Or The Nuyorican Poets Cafe at 2nd between A & B. There is an open mike and a poetry slam there on Friday nights. Also there are usually a listing for poetry events in both The Village Voice listings and Time Out NY too.
With this most excellent advice, we close part 1 of this ever-popular topic.
Part 2 was already open, so Ive copied all of this year's poetry posts to it. Carry on there!
Part 2 was already open, so Ive copied all of this year's poetry posts to it. Carry on there!