Dark Poetry Prose Poetry February 18, 2006 Dark Poetic Prose
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Dark Art
your eyes slit these wrists and kill me so much better
than i ever did
knowing life is a scab, a crusty, bloody seal of a wound. and wanting so much to pick at.
Sad Poems
by the alcoholic poet.
02-18-06 sunday 9:45pm
i listen with my eyes. speak with my silence. tomorrow in controlled doses. just like a cure. in tilted windmills. on layered slopes.
no angles now. linear are the echoes of our words. following the trail of forever as it chases hope.
sore predator in grass too low. burdened by heavy breathing and dull claws. pale whiskers tease the sunlight as it riccochets between the thinner shadows. tired implements of the hunt hang useless now. exposed. brittle. timid.
listening with my eyes. hearing nothing. speaking with my silence. unnoticed. sorrow in careful doses. just like a cure.
no more hunger.
acceptance nourishes.
Poetry
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Art/Sad Art 1
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the art of this
site neatly compiled into two pages.
Thinking
(Wanted To Say)
Feeling
(Just Words)
Always (You)
404 (error page)
Four Oh For
(human stain)
Such Unusual Ideas Caught In Dead Eyes
(Suicide)
Who? (To Whom)
What (I Want)
Why? Part 1
Why? Part 2
Why Not?(for scooter)
When?(for mcdoofus)
How?(for myself)
Extras
Old Poems
we have to go back!
God Jesus Satan
she sees God. He doesn't see her.
Savatoons Web Design
Deep Thoughts for the Day
Awesome Costumes for Halloween
sometimes
i think it would be nice to be fragile. then maybe once in a while someone would
be gentle
i feel so lost, especially when the sun shines, that
it accentuates how dark, how dark is my life.