5 poems

Discussion in 'Poet's Corner' started by SuicideBoy, Sep 26, 2007.

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  1. SuicideBoy

    SuicideBoy Well-Known Member

    Psycho Tropic

    They say
    I’m the patron saint of the disillusioned

    DSM IV
    you’re my holy scripture
    multiple choice tests to forecast

    Major depression (with psychotic “features”)
    does that mean I come with new upholstery?

    sneaky you
    my gateway drug
    when I take off my mask
    you’re the make-up underneath
    a little redundant

    was I really that loony-tunes?
    you were rude at the dinner table
    you had to be excused

    Pete’s Espresso
    you were a marathon runner, unstoppable
    but you didn’t pace yourself
    ran yourself breathless
    and inevitably came in third

    Marina Pier
    gateway to the unknowable
    Prozac’s nemesis
    The right-hand man
    of grain alcohol and cough medicine
    you took over when Amtrak failed me

    pulled me out when I bit your line
    you held me at bay


    Time Warp

    Maureen’s perfume
    was made to smell
    like Britney Spears

    but everything
    began to go hazy
    when she approached

    was she hoping to draw me into some

    back on Dwight Way
    I rode through
    the October dew
    to Berkeley High on rollerblades

    often I overslept
    my spend-thrift father would call yellow cab

    that strange woman
    in the driver’s seat
    had she just come back
    from a smokey tour de force along the Vegas strip?

    lit some cinnamon-cherry-blossom-chloride incense
    to whisk me away to that pseudo educational extravaganza?

    those were troubling times
    AP chemistry
    with our Kilt-wearing Professor Glimme

    it was enough to drive a boy to drink
    or to Independent Study
    that was where I met Maureen


    Mad Red

    scarlet fever inflamed anger blood

    why is anger

    for blood drawn
    in vengeance?
    the Vampire’s carnal sweet tooth

    for the flag folly of the Bull
    who deserves the matador ’s skull?
    the gratuitous caustica
    of a crimson swastika?


    for furnaced-forged faces flushed in fury?
    my loathe and contempt of red meat?
    the bite of the red ant when he dines on my feet?
    the rash the mosquito the spider the itch?


    for reds run in road rage rush?
    the Massive military Might of Mars?
    red wine wrought wrestling?

    for the vehemently volatile
    Volcano’s vendetta?

    the demented damnation of eternal duration
    of the Devil’s fiery final destination?


    It is for Republicans!


    About Tomorrow

    Awoke last night, 5:55
    an entire life ahead of me, I saw epic failure
    a character in a Shakespearian tragedy

    though I was awake, in a sense
    arteries still pulsed
    the rush of an illusory horror

    massaging it away
    hands all over all over
    my shoulders, my temples, my back

    oh, if only it were that easy

    my mind
    has more tricks than a red light district
    and when imagination kisses fear
    ids run wild

    in such shock, I thought
    maybe I’ll hallucinate
    maybe a bewitched mannequin

    or a skeleton comes at me
    old bones animated
    grinning like “Here’s Johnny!”
    Crouching like a bobcat

    it’ll lunge at me with scalpel fingers
    cut me up like a slasher flick

    these were waking thoughts
    first and before, I dreamt

    I was doing karate again
    practicing my left roundhouse
    but I am right-footed
    the punching bag merely swayed



    I cannot let you pass through that door, my fury friend.
    You have a colony ravaging your epidermis, siphoning the oxidized red liquid flowing through your body.
    It is a parasitic nightmare of little black dots with legs, drilling for oil on the surface of your body, you lumbering feline Sand Crawler.
    Everywhere they go, your tiny nemesis digs into your follicles and ravages your skin.
    You, like a colossal beast to your small, thirsty, ruthless companions, bring down your sabertooth fangs unto your own epic hide, biting away at the itch or the terrified filth-dwelllers.
    To us titans though, you aren’t even the size of a stomach.
    We love you and we love to stroke your furry forest and scratch under your satellite dish ears, but you, my friend, are now an untouchable.
    You have brought your ruinous plague into our dwelling and onto our bodies, and, until it is vanquished, you will remain an exile.

    We have a plan.

    We will plant and detonate an atomic bomb and irradiate all life (if you can call it that).
    Those chompy little fuckers of your better have some good Karma in store for their next lives.
    I hate to kill things, as much as you hate racoons, but even the cockroaches won’t survive this one.
    Once your meat harvesters are gone, your noble white and grey cuteness can return from exile, and you, my friend, can walk among giants.


    If ANYONE, copies ANY of this, I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN :biggrin: Have a nice day.
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