Okay, so here are a few crap pieces of poetry/prose inspired by you people. Yeah, I'm writing ones for the rest of you, it's coming, I'm doing it in 2 parts! So hold onto your thongs ladies and gents, and await part 2.
FOR N.V
Somedays, the shop at the corner is shut, because the people who work there got bored
of selling beer to 12 year olds, get bored of having to go out every night and clear the
front of their shop of all the assholes who hang around there and get drunk.
But it still pretty much stays open.
Somedays, you go outside, and it's so fucking cold you feel like you're freezing to death,
and all the birds have had their beaks iced over and can't sing, except for the crows who
crack up at the thought of everyone sturggling along through the snow.
But somewhere, the sun shines behind it all.
Somedays, you're walking down the street, looking at blank faces, faces with no mouths or noses,
no ears or hair, just black button eyes that stare out from nowhere, hurrying on their way, no time
for thinking or feeling.
But there's always one of them who feels the same as you do.
And somedays, it rains so hard everything drowns, and you lean your elbows on the window-sill
and look out at the world, hidden by rain, and think of how dreary and cold it all is,
But the rain makes flowers grow.
You're feeling like you're stuck, between a wall and a door, blocked off on every side, and you're
screaming so loud but no-one is listening, no-one hears and no-one cares.
Locked away from all that you could be, or all that you want, severed off from the world,
behind bars, looking out but can't get in, chained to your emotions, can't break them can't find a way
out.
But in this world, no-one's going to help you. No-one's going to save you, no-one can, only you.
Be your own knight in shining armour, slay the dragons that are in your mind, rescue yourself
from a burning tower. We'll give you the sword, but not the will.
You have the key, but you're so blind to it. The lock is there, and the keys are hanging from
your belt, but you're blind to them.
A story of a princess, who once lived in a big old castle, thousands of years ago.
Wept and cried, and drank all her tears up again so she found herself drunk on frustration and tears,
and cried the same tears over and over again. Over the years, her tears turned to balls of fire,
and as she hung out her window looking out for a passing-by knight, she wept fire and set her
tower alight. The flames grew higher and higher, and hotter and hotter, until the tower she had
hid herself in started to melt and rot away, and as the princess grew old, so the tower began
to crumble and fall, until one night as she looked up at the stars, and saw them through salt-
water, the flames grew around her, and swallowed her whole.
You have the key and the door.
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FOR KRISTI
Too old to hide away
Too young to walk away
Stranded in limbo,
Stuck in the middle.
Too scared to speak,
Too strong to weep,
Lost and confused
Stuck in your mind.
You hurt, I know
Stop or go?
It's a bitch it's a mess
It's pretty much useless,
But at the end of the day
There's nothing they can say
To take away
What they don't posess
Through all their ugliness
They see your beauty
And hate you for it.
Don't break, I know you won't,
Don't cry, although I know you don't
Take what they say
In a serious way
Because it's all such bull-shit,
Please believe it
When I say you own the stars,
And the sky is ours.
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FOR CHRISTINE
Dear Chezza,
Sounds like cheddar
Except 10 times better
Better
If I knew you better,
I'd write more
But I don't
So I won't
So I hope you'll sing
Bling bling
And praise me for
Coming up with more
Than just ''I think you rock''
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FOR LAURA
You know when you get those days when you feel like shit, but you get a letter in the post
that makes you smile, that makes your day, really?
That's how you are to me.
Wading through LJ's with all this depressing crap that makes me feel bad, posting long comments
trying to hold people up, and feeling sad for them.
But then along you come, with your bright sunny entries that make me want to hug you so bad for
being the optimistic person you are. How can I explain it?
Thank-you for being you. Thank-you for saving my day sometimes, and thank-you for your typos
and your spanish life, and your blinding sentences that shine so hard through the screen, I can't
help but stop crying and start laughing.
Thank-you for your letters, and the CD's you sent me, because nothing really says ''I care'' like
someone far away sending you a parcel.
You are the incarnation of sweetness, you are warmth and chocolate, and a cup of tea with choccy
biccies on the side, and a 10 franc note you forgot you ever had, and a log fire when it's cold
outside, and butterflies dancing through grass, and snow at night, deafening silence that's so
beautiful you want to catch a snowflake and save it in the freezer, just to remind you.
You are the rain that falls so lightly it's charming, you are glitter in the eyeshadow, you are
thongs with the Union Jack on them, you are watching children play in the park whilst the sun
turns everything gold, you are seeing a guy cry, you are vodka without the hang-over, you are
deodorant that actually WORKS, you are a mother, a sister, and a friend.
You are all of that, and so much more that I can't even begin to explain, because you are things
that we haven't even invented words for yet.
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FOR ASHLEY
How do you think it makes us feel,
When you say you're not for real?
What hope is there for them and me,
When you tell me you can't see
Your beauty?
I wish you could see it,
Wish you didn't feel like shit,
Because you're so much more
Than just another stupid whore
Who types away another day,
Nothing much to really say
Except how great they are,
How they bought a wonderbra
And how their boyfriends call them 'babe',
And all the friends they think they've made.
You're so much more.
Check out your user pic,
You could get some fancy dick,
You're that hot.
You're more than just a pretty face though
Make me happier, I hope you know
How beautiful you really are
In face and mind, and blah blah blah.
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FOR MISS STILLSTAR HERSELF
I thought I'd write you a crappy poem. But then I thought it'd be too hard.
What is it with you? I can't put my finger on it. You're like a bundle of emotion wrapped up in
logic. You're like a mathematical poem. You're like a box full of petals. I can't describe it.
You remind me of those huge eagles you see on nature documentaries. Wild and untamed, but
sometimes land on a human hand and the sheer size and strangeness of it impresses and fills with
awe and fascination.
Why does reading your LJ amaze me? I have no clue. It just does. Just the way sometimes you seem
so detached, yet so present. It's amazing.
You're like biscuits that look pretty standard, but when you bite into them they're full of
chocolate mush that's just so delightful, you get pretty bloody addicted, and then have to
restrain yourself from eating anymore for fear of ending up like Jerry Springer's guests.
I've been sitting in front of the screen for about 10 minutes now, trying to think of how else
I can explain this. That's when you know you're extra-special. When someone who has verbal
diohrrea is at a loss for words when it comes to describing you.
You have your moments, when you're down, and feeling just generally pretty negative. But just
think of all those people who are so normal, so mundane, and then remember that you made me
sit at my computer for half an hour trying to think of how to write about you. And that that
makes you more stunningly complex than anyone I've ever met.
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FOR MIN
Astrally tied
Life on the weird side
Full moon half moon wax and wane
Sense of humour keeps you sane.
It's hard to believe that deep inside
You've had moments when you've cried
About life and death and what they mean
And all the things you've had and seen.
You're not the type to throw fits
Over big red zits
Or hairy armpits
Or the size of your tits
Or any of that shit,
And I'm greatful.
Mentally bound
Jokes and smiles keep you sound
And through it all you posess
The kind of charm that makes you you,
The kind of mind that belongs to few,
The kind of words that could break hearts
The kind of life that's flawed in parts
But makes you you
A you that's so complete
I'll have to repeat
That I have so much admiration
For your consideration
Your motivation
Your elevation
Over all this shit.
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FOR MONIKA
So here you are, living your life, quietly going by, unrushed, untouched by the outside world.
Or so it seems.
You seem distant like a fairy, in your world with nothing to crush you, nothing to scare you,
nothing to touch you or influence you in any way.
A part of you inside is on fire, and through it all you remain calm and at ease, a queen
with a heart of gold but an exterior made of metal.
You're so fragile deep inside, that only a few pentrate into your world, you're so rare
and unique you might break if too many people come too close.
Your fairy castle, high on a cloud, surrounded by mist, guarded carefully.
Thank-you for the invite in.
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FOR INGRID
Let me play the game for you. If you were an animal, you'd be a cat, playful and sleepy. If
you were a flower, you'd be a violet, delicate and bright. If you were a colour, you'd be
turquoise, the colour of the sea at summer. If you were an object, you'd be a scarf, colourful
and warm. If you were an element, you'd be the earth, stable and beautiful. If you were a fairy,
you'd be queen. If you were a time of day, you'd be twilight, limbo between day and night,
everything washed in grey, first stars appearing over my head.
If you were anything but you, the world would be a duller place.
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FOR CHRIS
Life will make you
Can't break you
Unless you pack it in
And call it a day
Watch your life fade away
Unless you grab it head first
You can only do your worst
Never worse than that.
What you got to lose?
Pick and choose
Your battles, you once said
Watch where you tread,
Don't get into something
You can't win.
When you're gone
Life goes on
Without you,
The world keeps going
Winds keep blowing
And snow keeps snowing
When you're 5 feet underground
Heaven bound
Life goes on,
And what will you leave behind?
What'll stay in people's minds,
When you're gone?
You have the power to shape your life
You have the means to roll the dice
And take a chance
Start a dance
No-one'll know
Start off slow
And build yourself up
Wait for the moment
Time yourself and end the torment
Of ''ifs'' and ''maybes''
Chance is the way these
Things work.
You have the gift, inside your soul
You have something that makes you whole
Wholer than many others
Wholer than most of us,
And it's waiting to be used.
Hedgehog man crawled up in a ball
Fragile song behind a wall
Shining angel took a fall
And scared to try again,
Scared to show what you are,
Scared you fell a bit too far
And won't dare show yourself again,
Only coming out in the rain,
Twisting twirling
Waltzing whirling
Spinning swirling
Through my mind.
Life will make you, can't break you
Talent in your hand
And I can't stand
To watch it waste.
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FOR ROB
Silently
Resigned
Making up your mind
To shut yourself away.
It's pretty, but it's sad.
I guess it's not so bad
If you'd only admit to when you're crying
If you'd only tell me when you're dying
When you need to.
Maybe you don't need to,
But let me tell you:
Making fun of Jesus
Was never as much fun
Until you came along.
So next time,
When you're feeling pain,
Let me know
And remember the rain.
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FOR VINCENT, ALTHOUGH YOU'LL NEVER SEE THIS:
Watching you is the greatest thing I ever did with my life. Sitting in the café, waiting
for friends to turn up, waiting and watching the sun shift behind the clouds.
Ordering coffee after coffee, checking my coins knowing I don't have enough for coffee after
coffee, but buying it anyway. I'm taking my coffee black with no milk or sugar, fire hot
burning the tip of my tongue, staining the inside of my mouth with it's bitterness.
So yeah. I'm watching you.
Sashaying in and out of the café, expensive perfume invading the cramped room, carefully
ironed hair resting on your shoulders.
I'm watching you move your hips as you walk, hip-less in jeans, polished boots click-clack across
the floor, click-clack echoing in my ears, and your bracelets clinking against each other.
Bag tucked under your arm, fake smile plastered across your face, girlish laugh as you order
your coffee.
I sigh. Fumble in my cloth bag, fingers wandering through the contents, past random pieces of paper,
bus ticket with a guy's number on it, I got his number because I couldn't be bothered to tell
him I didn't have a phone, number left over from a billion years ago. Fishing out a packet of
Marlboros, I slide a cigarette out and light it.
Your friend comes in the door, same eyes and jewelry and crap little boots and hair and smile, and
the same annoying laugh that just screams ''I'm fake''.
I watch you through the smoke, take in each line of your body, each superficial little smile,
each meaningless comment.
--
He comes in and sits next to me, flashing a grin, looking at the bill for my coffee, sighs
happily, and slides a 10 franc note across the table. I look at him. He looks back.
I smile at him, and he smiles back.
Elbow propped up on the table, loose wrist, I inhale thoughtfully as I watch him shrug off his jacket.
He has lost weight, I decide. The girls across the room stop their chatter, and gaze at him flirtatiously.
As he looks up, they turn away and start giggling, and the game of hide-and-seek glances begins.
Annoyed, I clear my throat. He grins over at the girls. I clear my throat again. He winks at them.
I start a coughing fit, and he laughs.
So we spent the day smoking and drinking coffee, although I was only supposed to smoke 4 cigarettes
a day, they just found their way to my lips, and the lighter danced into my hands, and before I
knew it, I had smoked 4, and then 5, and then 10, and then smoked myself into infinity.
The girls stared daggers at me, their eyes darting from him to me, working out what the chances
of me being his girlfriend were, their eyes resting on my baggy t-shirt and then deciding
I probably wasn't anything to be worried about.
I listened that day, and he talked. He ordered more and more coffee, and I just listened,
saving his face in my mind. I took in the shape of his jaw, and his eyes, and the way he
tilted his head when he was listening to me, and the way he'd smile quickly so fast before
he answered me, so fast you'd miss it if you blinked.
I watched his smile, the way it slid to one side of his face, no teeth showing, just a crooked
smile and his eyebrows raised high on his forehead.
I watched him, critical of everything he said because everything he said made sense but wasn't
right.
We'd have silences full of words, silences that didn't really matter, ones that felt as
comfortable as a blanket, oozing understanding, such perfect silences it made me sick.
Soon it was dark, and he payed the bill although I begged him to let me, but he payed anyway,
and we swept our crap into our bags, and left.
It was cold outside, and the lights were misty in the fog, buses charging past us disturbing
my thoughts, making me feel tired.
The bus came, and I pressed the button. We got on. It was nearly all empty, and I sat
near the window, watching the cars whizz by, annoyingly loud.
I turned and looked at him, sitting with his legs stretched out in front of him, hood over
hat, jaw set, staring in front of him his eyes heavy and tired.
He said something to me in broken english, something I didn't understand it was so badly said,
and we both cracked up and switched back to french again, our heavily accented 'genevois',
where all the vowels last longer than they should, and every sentence is a question, both of us
looking italian and british, but sounding disgustingly swiss.
It was a while before I realized I was staring at him, my eyes full of tears because I didn't
want him to go, because there was so much I wanted to say, because although he never uttered
a single word, I could feel him hurt underneath all his baggy clothes.
We got off at the train station and sat in the dark waiting for my bus to come, although I told him
he should just go ahead and catch the train back to wherever the hell he was going tonight.
But he chose to stay, which I guess was a fucked up choice to make, considering.
I looked straight ahead and suddenly wished he was gone, just because I was feeling too much of
what he was feeling. I raised my fag to my lips absent-mindedly, and not having realized it had
gone out, got a taste of cold nicotine.
He shifted on the bench and leaned back, and I could feel his eyes on me, over my hair and
shoulders, so I leaned back too, and stared at him some more.
And I could have sworn, I still swear, I'm sure I saw a tear on his face, I'm certain, I'm
positive I saw a drop shining in the dark, falling to the ground, but he whipped his face around
too quick for me to be able to see.
I watched him take long strides across the road, fingers
in his mouth whistling at someone I couldn't see.
He had pulled my hair gently and said -goodbye, doll-.
Which was sad, in a way.
Song's gone
Day's done
So where does that leave me?
Place taken
World shaken
Nowhere left to go
Since you pulled back your hand
Left me strand
Ed
On my own
No home
Except your arms
Now it's gone
It's been so long
Since I told you I love you.
But I'm not sure you want to hear it
Not sure it's worth it
Not certain I have it
In me
To watch you bleed
And stand by like a passenger
On a bus in your world
Watching you twirl
Out of proportion
Growing distortion
Total abortion
Of your youth.
You used to have life
Strife
But life
Inside of your core
Letting it bleed out
More
And more
Til it grew sore
And infected
Your hate injected
Into your wounds
Each one a tomb
For your hate.
I came too late
Or maybe didn't stay around
As long as I promised
Missed
My chance
To entrance you
Into living again
Into starting again
Into giving it in
Believing again
In what you are.
You could have been a star.
Could have made films
Could have wrote books
About princes and crooks
But I'm telling you now
Coulda done yourself proud
Turned your life around
And made it big.
But you didn't.
So where does that leave me?
I'm still here
Whilst you moved on
Where do I belong
Now that you're gone.
I'm wandering
Struggling
Juggling
Parallel lives without you
I'm you-less
Useless
Broken and toothless,
Decayed, bit into you tasted your juices
And got scared away.
Ship out the bay,
Sailed away,
Got lost in the ocean
Swept up in emotion
And now I want you here.
One more poem
To add to your stash.
One more witness
To watch you crash
Into this fake life you've made for yourself.
It makes me laugh
To see you cold
Although you burn
It makes me cry
To see you mould
Although you live.
Do you?
Do you live?
Who with?
How can you live with you?