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Kaarii's Random Poetry
Mm-hm. Little hhyper right now, so don't mind if it's a bit sloppy; just thought I'd share some of my past work.
Severed leg in a bucket; It’s shaking over sulfur, painting, Painting the explosion . . . Seed to the flames’ slumbering lust, An awakening is singing: Sew me a leg! Mine is dead on concrete; I dropped it last summer, Last summer in No Where. Rattling in skeleton motion, Toenails scraping the surface, It drowns inside the Waiting Language: Tap! Scream! And I am shivering now; somehow, Somehow my leg found me. Oh, the bucket is ablaze, opening. But I wanted a new leg. ---- A thing I wrote themed for English class. Hope you likey. |
Here's another one; hope I'm allowed to separate these for neatness.
You don't understand And you can't see The monster inside That's killing me You say you love me You say you care But my spirit is breaking And you only stare I was alive once And I was free But now I'm only a shell This is not me Afraid to laugh Afraid to cry Afraid of you screaming Watching time pass by You don't know Because you weren't there The people you keep me from Are the ones that truly care You say that he hurt me You say that he's bad But I know we share a special bond And that makes you mad Now I wait for the day When I am free To prove to you You and I were meant to be |
Last one for the moment, I think.
Salutations, surreptitious Slumber. Sent to suggest to me something of much serenity… Such sympathy you suffer for someone like me! Send me away, for sleep is suspicious this night. What waters wet mine eyes! As monotony swept me, I moved toward the pond Until mahogany orbs met morning sun’s…. This man wept, weeping as if widowed. Can crystalline stories treat such weeping? We drank together, in loneliness, in despair. Dreamt as if asleep, there next to the dewpond. Deepened in dungeon-like fantasies, we devoured our past to pieces. Dare we move on? Dare he? Dare I? I wished to move, meeting what lied before me. Alas, my weariness stoned me still... I returned to bed, where I longed for him... My Slumber... Oh, sweet Slumber, lift me mine world and let me go. |
Nevermind. My friend made me post this one; it's written by her and I, a few weeks ago.
Blood grows black in time As evil cries its sickened tears, And lace is shed once more From the one we call Diana. Stealing night so lusciously, Fingers dipped in Soul’s red paint, She dances aloft with good beneath her. "I'll take that." She snatches your soul! A puppet! An innocent girl! Welcome her Diana: The needle, the blade, Or the man in the making? She pricks her skin. It does taste sweet! (It always has.) Blood-rusted, metal shines brighter still, And who says she can’t mold her men? I’ll have one more shot of my Diana, The tequila is luminous today . . . Six more? My blood is darker, But my disease has driven me blind. Diana is selfish and we are her victims. It should be so simple. |
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