emo(tional)

Born & Breathed, healthy seed.
Too tall for my age, head wound up in clouds.
Enraptured by might, impeded my sight.
Lucky; there's more to detour said plight.
Hopeful, ecstatic.
Vengeful, dramatic.
and shed be beautiful if she werent so ugly,
Desperate in her aloofness.

Save Now

Publish Post

Take a Number

Hell is cold. I want to clear the 'fire and brimstone' misconception up. It's not even freezing, either. The temperature rarely drops below 40 degrees. Because extreme physical pain really passes the time and when your Eternity Of Punishment flies by it's not much of a punishment. With no physical pain, boredom seeps in, and with boredom comes a Hell full of thought. Thinking brings regret. Memories. Souls stewing in lost joys while wishing hopelessly for a light jacket, that's pain.
I am the President of Creative Punishment, and my last eureka moment happened 1, 036 years ago when I realized emotional pain won out over physical pain. Which came with its share of humiliation considering souls barely even feel the physical. These lost souls had us going since the beginning of time. Bastards. Actually, I have made one creative revelation since then. One I have yet to tell the big man downstairs. Humans, they have this infuriating ability to adapt, even to pain. So once circumstance has run out and cruel and unusual torture has become the norm, intolerable agony become tolerable...
My personal theory is that without extreme pain there can be no extreme pleasure, and the only place where you can find both is where the living Dwell, Earth. I imagine they are feeling similar aggravations in that big fluffy place in the clouds, but I wont be the one to tell Them that we can't offer more than a middle class retirement home with excellent health care.

Color poem

CONSIDERING for litmag

Yellow (or Shades of Color)

Not often,
but sometimes,
i am bright and sure.
everything i see,
is in a golden gleam.
I screech "be happy! smile!"
Sometimes the person I shun,
for their blinding vibrancy,
and honest personality,
is me.

An Idle King

warning: profanity

"it little profits that an idle king,
by this still hearth, among the barren crags,
matched with an aged wife,
should release the keys to a hard life's reward.
Fo'real."

"Why you be forever talkin' smack about my age,
i do not know, but if you ever got up off yo lazy ass,
instead of composing dat verse maybe youd find yo'self the goddamn remote."

"Indeed the sound of fleeting dove,
readily imitates my plight,
for the only thing i hold in the caverns of my life,
finds itself by chance, by frozen fate,
in depths of slice'n'dice."

"Ya best guess again Bitch.
I ain't tryin' ta bust my slice'n'dice."

A man with an open expression and lips set in grim acceptance stood wide eyed at the court room stand. "you may make your plea, Guvnor." The judge spoke in a monotonous voice. Guvnor smiled feebly and inclined his head, the judge fought the temptation to roll her eyes. He leaned forward and tapped his mike experimentally, as if he had never set foot in a court room before. Judge Earphings had seen Charles Guvnor tap-his-mike-experimentally-as-if-he'd-never-set-foot-in-a-court-room-before 4 times in the past 10 years.
He stuttered out his opening line. "What brought me here...it sounds crazy, and with my... history I cant expect any of you good citizens to believe what I am about to say." he paused and seemed to blink away tears. "I cant even ask you to." The Judge maintained her neutral expression, but scoffed inwardly. It had been cute when a 12 year old Chuck Guvnor had duped his way into the jury's hearts, and understandable at ages 14, 16, and 17, but with a 22 year old Charles standing before her, Earphings wondered how good of an idea it was that she should be in possession of a mallet around the kid.
"...I deserve to be locked away, the key destroyed and no pity for it. I understand that now. Then I thought, maybe if I had the money, I could save her..." his voice became a whisper and he trailed off. One Jury member, a woman dressed entirely in GAP jumped around in her seat like an elementary school student desperate to raise her hand.Earphings sighed and asked "Save who, Guvnor?" He sent her a quick smile that was all teeth. "Maria, my friend Maria. She was a grandmother to me, and a mother, I-"
"I have here that you stated she was 26." Charles nodded sagely. The jurors nodded with him.
'oh god, here we go again' Erphings thought. "That week she was 26. She could change her age, you know, and I think it made her feel alive to be young. Nevertheless, she needed money for the operation, invisible tumors being so expensive, so I robbed the insurance company for her. It was wrong. I should have prayed and stayed by her side at every moment but temptation called me and, and I chose not to sit idle." "and that is enough Mr. Guvnor. Thank you."
"Do to the...non existence of 'Maria', which you understand-"
"well-"
"-you claim insanity."
"well n-" she slammed her anvil onto the desk and gave him the most subtle evil eye she could manage. "I release the Jury."

Charles Govner sauntered free that day due to an unanimous vote from the jury, he CONTINUE

Its a mixed up, muddled up, shook up, world...

!!!!!Super Hero personal problem!!!!
The Joker
I am a dark and just deeply misunderstood individual.
Far too enlightened for comprehension.
(sigh) But I'll give it a try , just for you.
Breaching all professional boundaries to say,
I used to be just pretty.
Shocking! I know, to look at me now,
why i was perfectly proportioned.
So this vanity, oh swoon, of mine,
My very own personal human stain,
it's best served with clothes of the female persuasion, hm.

I never did give my makeup penchant the old boot. fortunately I am just batty... Ahehehehahahaa. Ahem.
No one's...expectations would be too terribly crushed
if my little secret fluttered, fluttered...
ALAS, bomb threats are taken with such very little little consideration when a man wears lace.
and high heels are horribly difficult to run in.
Which, you know, I just have no idea how our darling cat lady does it.
just remarkable.
Fortunately I am an exceptionally talented young man
and I latch onto opportunity when I see it.
A nurse outfit,
here and there.
A little shadow,
around the lids.
red red lipstick.
(to cover up that, that dreadful lip plumping procedure , oh no, to hard to find accountable surgeons these days, time to take matters into mine own hands, thats what I decided.)

Holland, 1945

The only girl I've ever loved
Was born with roses in her eyes
But then they buried her alive
One evening 1945
With just her sister at her side
And only weeks before the guns
All came and rained on everyone
Now she's a little boy in Spain
Playing pianos filled with flames
On empty rings around the sun
All sing to say my dream has come

But now we must pack up every piece
Of the life we used to love
Just to keep ourselves
At least enough to carry on

And now we ride the circus wheel
With your dark brother wrapped in white
Says it was good to be alive
But now he rides a comet's flame
And won't be coming back again
The Earth looks better from a star
That's right above from where you are
He didn't mean to make you cry
With sparks that ring and bullets fly
On empty rings around your heart
The world just screams and falls apart

But now we must pack up every piece
Of the life we used to love
Just to keep ourselves
At least enough to carry on

And here's where your mother sleeps
And here is the room where your brothers were born
Indentions in the sheets
Where their bodies once moved but don't move anymore
And it's so sad to see the world agree
That they'd rather see their faces fill with flies
All when I'd want to keep white roses in their eyes
By Neutral Milk Hotel.

i believe the first portion of the song is about Ann Frank, who died in 1945. To me the song represents the sacrifice of some to save many, or something they stand for. The song is soothing to me because en i am wrapped up in myself and anxious about something very small, and i listen to this song and realize there are bigger things. it presents deaths inevitability and the fact that Life will go on in a way that soothes my fears. However, i can never decide whether the song makes me want to sit and think or dance.

haiku 'bout nature

She burns, no pity
Replenishes, not for show.
Portrait to us all.

Frost

There is a mob family who was once very down on their luck. And smarts. And moral flexibility. Their cover job, an ice cream factory, had been pulling in more money than than any of their underhandedness for over a decade. All of them reminisced about that short shining time when they were the kingpins of the city.
Their enemies sensed the weakness and circled and planned their attack on the Family like Hyenas praying on the week. For the older brother, the moral delima of their situation was excruciating. He sat all day in their office, attempting to devise a perfect plan. One day, his younger brother burst in, more exited than he'd been in weeks, and beckoned him to come. The eldest did so, and listened with mounting apprehension to his brothers claims of 'solving their problem'. He followed the youngest to the factory's walk in freezer. Upon entering he saw the opposing Mob's Boss curled up and shivering on the floor. He turned aghast to his grinning brother, who said
"The mob cant make decisions without their leader and now we don't have to kill anybody because look! nothing cold can stray."

55 words

CONSIDERING for litmag


The funeral for Mrs. Lampardt was silent and somber. ' Opposite of how she'd of wanted it' Mr. Lampardt thought. His closest friend wrapped him in a hug, and cried "she was so strong, unbelievable that she fell from just a bump, just horrible..."
"I know, i had to accidentally bump her 6 times."

Dream/pattern

I'm standing on a tall building, surrounded by eggs, and I crack and separate the yolk from the, uh, clear part, which is sometimes the most tedious thing I do all day. It is fall and Spiderman, my old idol, hes standing just 15 feet away from me stretching out the milk, which I add to the yolks. I don't remember why I do this, but the end result is good, so, I want to fly like he does through the skyscrapers. He soothes my worries and tells me that I can all on my own. Just like him, chop and search always one ingredient is missing and I'm STARVING, I check the pantry for the umpteenth time, I know the entire bag of onions was not consumed over night, and I peer over the edge of the building. Yeah, I think I can, anyway, ill figure it out when I drop the eggs into the pan and they sizzle, quickly frying and morphing.

Wide World poem: Spin

As i wrote this it became about another work of literature, so while i didn't rip off the writing it does not apply to me personally. is that ok?

I promised to look through a mirror

Though he wouldn’t say why.

Still building illusions on a flooring of lies.

Trick a lonely little girl

can’t be hard

She'll give her whole soul to please you

every last shard.

So spin your lies Riddle

Say their better than truths.

Say she’s to pure for this world

That your favor's puritanical.

She’s fading now Riddle

No more use for the mirror.

The last of her drips onto that you hold dear

But it’s your soul that’s crushing.

And then a small scrape, a little lie, and then nothing.

Wide World Poem: Paradocks

CONSIDERING for litmag

When your bones start to creak
and they call you a freak
just fall,
its all right now.
When the wind in your hair
stops raping the air
and it takes you where you wanted to go?
you know that the fiend and the
simple thing
are unfolding and starting to show.
Take the act for its word
If you haven't heard,
It ain't Knowledge
its not needing to know.

Collaborative Work aka This Is Not Entirely My Fault

Coca-cola furniture... "Frankly, im suspicious of the whole thing." Kate had entered the tutor shop hoping to find a gift for her quirky cousin, but this may even be past his limit. Kate was desperatly searching for a good gift for him. Kate felt the cold steel of a gun barrel on her neck as a voice said "come with me NOW!" No one seen the man but there was one guy a couple blocks down who saw the whole thing. A leather gloved hand forced her head down and outside of the back door, throwing her ruthlessly in the trunk of the car. She banged up against the roof of the trunk ofd the door for about an hour until it finally opened. "hi, what you up to?" said Kate.

Hamlet: Alternate ending

Hamlet looked nervous the moment I told him. Understandably, I thought. He must be absolutely petrified, i mean his mother is here. But he managed a golden boy smile and we found our seats. the play began, and i must say, i enjoyed it a-plenty. best friends, side kicks, thrust front and center. hamlet didn't seem to be appreciating the story line though, he looked far more the dramatic wreck than any of the characters on stage. not to say i wasn't sympathetic to his plight, but come on. i put a lot of work into this case. When the third act came around he looked seriously woozy, and i worried he might pass out, so i steadied him and leaned over to whisper
"its time, lets go around back. i know a way under the stage."
I stood and walked and he followed, i know because i heard the complaints of all the people he tripped over in the aisles. I mean i know he was nervous to face the music, but come on. I'm trying to keep a low profile here? anyway, i had found my entrance that morning, and i think Ham was a little shocked when i barged right in under the stage and locked the door behind us.
He started turning in wild circles, looking for a third party in the space below the stage.

I burst out laughing. Dear old Ham, The Drama Queen. But who was i to talk, i had created the whole spectacle, all just to say:
"Ham. I know."
He spun for a moment before freezing stiff. Sometimes the guy is such a good actor he believes himself.
' I knooow" I singsonged. Evil on my part, i know, but my best friend had me on a wild goose chase. Did he not trust me enough to tell me? Did he think i couldn't handle it? Well, he knew the act was up then, only stood and waited. For a while we stared at each other trying to gauge a reaction.

I broke the silence, let out a sigh and slid down a stage prop background to sprawl on the floor.
"Did you think i would turn you in?" My question hung heavy in air, drawing my breath tight, but it was just dead weight. He would say anything to get me on his side. He looked shocked. And here we go.
"of course." he blurted. "your the best guy i know, of course i thought so." And i hadn't expected that. Heck, i never even considered turning him in. I looked up and met his eyes, then reached out a hand. He yanked me up. "hey," i said "I'm committed to this case, Now I'm just committed to keeping it covered up."

Draw it, and write about it!

warning: i have no idea how this turned into a story about evil and the end of mankind, and i dont like it anymore thn the narrator.

'Johnson's eyes were always half lidded, or downcast. But he was never mistaken for shy or violent, and once a person had made initial the assesment of "jeez, if i had polka-dotted eyes id' keep 'em shut to" was made, strangers never bothered to analyze Johnson. And he was, to everyone i guess, a stranger.

I know i never though about him when he supervised in my building, and we walked to work the same way. Now i think about him just about every godamn day. i think of him the way a child thinks of monsters, trying not to , but inevitably my mind throws the images at me. Am i paranoid? is this really what the future holds?

I dont remember those dotted eyes darting around in shame turning into the still, unforgiving glare. But it doesnt matter, we wont let him win his war. Humanity has never lost before and well beat that freak. i dont feel bad for him, never have and i dont care much what anyone says. Hes threatened my children by god, and' crunch
Johnson fisted the torn paper and stared into a wall. "the homosapien experiment has peaked, Fellows. And since emotional progress has halted, its time to put them out, i suppose." His eyes rolled downcast.

Tornado Warning

I heard the tornado warning wailing at around 8:14 am, in the shotgun seat of a volvo driven by my one-shock-away-from-an-anxiety-attack best friend. She insisted we enter the school IMMEDIATLY. i deferred with 'nah, we got time to chill'. she was allready rolling on an anxiety high and declined my offer though.
Eventually, after being threatended by the pet people across the street i came into the school and ended up in the biology hall. Tete a locker, i exchanged the obligatory sarcastic remarks with a friend and waited. after around ten minutes, a man decided to soothe our fears by yelling down the hall magorly compsed of freshman: "Stay calm, do not PANIC. There is absolutely no place i would rather be than here with you all..." I can only assume he was trying to cause panic, but who knows. No one on our hall had ever seen hm before.
We waited, then complained. For lack of anything else to do we repeated that stratagy. but who am i kidding, that drill was the spirit boost of my week.

Water Prompt

water is raw like air and time spent alone and nurture. I love water, obviously. I have been on a swim team for as long as i can remember, but i never liked the team part. i liked the time i got to spend after in the blue like infinity water. Slowly everyone but the sand colored lifegaurds and a few equally blurry lap swimmers in the lanes would trickle out. Looking back, i cannot believe the utter privacy i felt. The strangeness I exhibited in that public of a situation, but i felt completely at ease. I had this corner, at the ymca decatur pool, that i favored unreasonably. It came complete with those reflecting metal stairs that go down deep into the pool. It doesnt sound like much but underwater, where i apparently believed i was invisible, those stairs were the titanic and i was a mermaid. Or they were a torture chamber, holding me, a spy, underwater in some cruel and unusual form of torture.
those poor lifegaurds.
I have truly impressive lung capacity. I could stay 3 feet under water, coming up for deep breaths, for around an hour. Maybe more, i had no concept of time, still dont actually, which has more to do with ignorance than underwater balance and mental capacities being screwy. When i am underwater, everything else has the appearence of being unreal. Quiet. Only my thoughts and imagination and felings matter so yeah, i guess ye good ole stereotype of 'water as peace' is as appropriate as it comes.

self photo

This was a pretty miserable day, and my hair was frizzy as hell, my shirt too tight. So i was very self conscious, in the most literal way. I could not stop thinking about how i looked and subsequently posing for every last one of my friends photos. I always hide my mouth when i am self conscious, i don't know why. Probably the braces. 'Anyway' a phrase i use and abuse like something inappropriate, I was posing for this picture , trying to look 'accidentally pretty' (which, by the way, is sort of like carefully applying 'natural makeup'). Nonetheless, pressing on, and look at me applying new catch phrases. My friend, well call her 'Lindsay' because that's her name, Lindsay is taking a long time to shoot the shot. The thing about accidental pretty is you can not sit there and hold it, or else all accidental pretense is lost for ever an ever. After a couple of seconds i realised how moronic i looked, and gave my friend an 'I'm-trying-to-look-pretty-without-trying-to-look-pretty-and-your-making-it-really-difficult look and cracked up. this photo was taken in the transition between 'fake pretty' and self mockery. Coincidentally, i believe that is a very real expression for a teenage girl.

Thoughts on wide world project

I appreciate the range of subjects the publish option gives me, so thats nice.
It seems to do a good job of encorporating and aiding other establishments through our school, so thats nice for mankind.