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the dope fiend splashes gash like a nailbomb

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[28 Dec 2005|08:09pm]

school_he_bombs
Hello, my name is Gizelle. The last community I joined about poetry was fucking lame. So I joined this one. It had a really great name. So here I am. I'll introduce myself with some poems I wrote recently. Comment! I love you!

"I watched the digits scroll up with no intention of slowing down.
I always come prepared.
This wind only blows this hard this once, only at this time, whatever the digital says..."




Read more...Collapse )
failure of criticism

[21 Apr 2005|04:08am]

heescub
The past:
by the very hammer, by the very hand of god you strike down on these decisions i've made in my life, and sent me angels to pick me up off my feet, a curse and a blessing one in the same. while everything remained so very dark in my world you've always made sure there was a small light shone on me to show me that drowning in a sea of insecurity is not an easy end all to everything. just when i thought i got a handle of my own bearings you've sent me one of your own to show me exactly what love is.

The future:
not by any stretch of anyones imagination did i realize how much i could love a human being in a course of time. you've been so understanding and firm with me, and of course not without opposition. but every baited breath and every lapse of verse/word makes my heart grow fonder of you. the strong attraction that pulls our 2 very different sides together leaves me quivering, groveling for me. i don't know how i spent my 24 years without you somewhere in my life. i love you.
criticism

Anne Sexton [16 Nov 2004|05:23pm]

opheliablue
I hope it is ok to post this here. I have checked the userinfo, but please delete if it's not ok. I've started an Anne Sexton community - sextonpoetry - basically for ANYTHING Sexton-related - posting her poems, photos, discussing her, posting any Sexton-inspired poems of your own you have written, etc. I'm writing a book about Anne Sexton and Sylvia Plath so I'll be asking for members' opinions/thoughts about various different issues sometimes too.

If anyone is interested, I look forward to seeing you there!
criticism

[27 Dec 2003|07:18pm]

pseudonym_
sit on the edge of my bed, and curl yourself up
until you're small enough to look weak, and ask me what's wrong.
stare into my eyes as i try to relate my words to you silently,
and without opening my mouth, you've realized our mistakes.
i've sewn my mouth shut, but my fingers still leak the words
onto every ink stained sheet of paper carpeting these floors.
and when i close my eyes, i read the rules we've written.
i learn how to play this game where i pretend not to hear your lies,
and how to successfully turn the other cheek when you kiss her lips.
i read that torrents will be shed while staring out my window,
hearing your hollow promises scream words of solace towards my scars.
my already over abused scars ... your excuse for every problem.
as we settle in to watch the drama on the screen,
this is the last movie we'll ever watch alone, i say
you absorb the words, pretending to be happy here, next to the only one
you say you could ever truly love.
it states i toss and turn each night because your scent is engraved
inside each pillow and blanket draped cross this frozen corpse.
this is also the only reason i can't let you go.
this is our tragedy, playing over and over in our lives.
repeating, like our favorite movie you cry, pleading for surface
beneath your crumbling lies, built on this weak foundation of lust.
you're afraid to let yourself be honest, and i'm afraid to trust you.
we can stand on our own, and we will, i read.
it could be now, and we could gain our strength alone.
but each of our hands refuse to release their grip from around the other's heart.
criticism

[07 Mar 2003|07:08pm]

blindsuicide
I want to see you dead.
I want to see you suffer,
ten times worse, three times over,
for you caused me so much more.
I'll kill your soul myself,
I'll rip your chest open
pull out that weakness
set it aflame
& watch it burn
with the dignity you lose.
I'll demolish your vision,
I'll stab your eyes
with safety pins
& let you feel
how it is to be blind
with a pain that's infinite
& so defined.
I'll call it suicide,
if you really wish to know,
so you're my voodoo doll.
while you suffer,
while you die,
just think of me
your master, creator.
& I destroyed you.
failure of criticism

[06 Nov 2003|07:02pm]

blindsuicide
threw you the obvious and you flew
with it on your back, a name in your recollection,
thrown down among a million same.
difficult not to feel a little bit disappointed
and passed over
when i've looked right through
to see you naked and oblivious
and you don't see me.
but i threw you the obvious
just to see if there's more behind the eyes
of a fallen angel,
the eyes of a tragedy.
here i am expecting just a little bit
too much from the wounded.
but i see through it all
and see you.
so i threw you the obvious
to see what occurs behind the eyes of a fallen angel,
eyes of a tragedy.
oh well. apparently nothing.
you don't see me.
you don't see me at all.


apc
criticism

this song is wonderful [04 Nov 2003|11:59pm]

gigithepoppet
[ mood | lonely ]

I know I stand in line, until you think you have the time
To spend an evening with me
And if we go someplace to dance, I know that there's a chance
You won't be leaving with me

And afterwards we drop into a quiet little place
And have a drink or two
And then I go and spoil it all, by saying something stupid
Like: "I love you"

I can see it in your eyes, that you despise the same old lies
You heard the night before
And though it's just a line to you, for me it's true
It never seemed so right before

I practice every day to find some clever lines to say
To make the meaning come through
But then I think I'll wait until the evening gets late
And I'm alone with you

The time is right your perfume fills my head, the stars get red
And oh the night's so blue

criticism

She is god. [26 Oct 2003|04:03pm]

flightsixtytwo
"Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air."
[;] Sylvia Plath.
failure of criticism

[19 Oct 2003|08:40pm]

gigithepoppet
[ mood | gloomy ]

your words heal my scars but something else always burns through them like acid

criticism

[17 Oct 2003|02:44pm]

blindsuicide
what seems like old coffee stains are streaked across the floor.
the purity of the ground has been dyed along
with the lining of the walls that are spray-painted in black.
no sparkles, no glow around the rim;
not a dim hint of a glazed-over artificial lighting.
there's not much to look forward to now.
honestly, there was never anything to look behind for.
for a split second, I may see it from the corner of my eye
but it's gone faster than a tear that falls to the pores of a cheek.
there's a polaroid from days ago lying in the corner of the room.
it's aged worse than faint memories I stole from you.
the edges are burnt, with the scent of alcohol seeping in the air.
the pink colored ashes that drop to the floor seem to have a blood-stained tint
like it's been beneath your fingertips when you bit your nails to the quick.
oh, I taste your scent as I take these ashes in like I tend to do.
may I mention it's ever so beautifully tragic to know you?
I give thanks to you, but not willingly.
it sticks to my brain to know
I stole nothing but your pathetic longing from you.
failure of criticism

[12 Oct 2003|07:31pm]

blindsuicide
starving searching this barren wasteland
trying to grasp being this alone
pleading for a breath of fresh air,
someone's standing on my chest
dying, I'm asphyxiating myself
break myself, slave to my weakness, choke on my words
oh, I'm drowning and I feel so alone
the lights are on and I wish I was home.
my lips are screaming pretty nothings
my ears are bleeding for want of words,
fuck words, I need actions.
hope as left me fucking shattered
someone's standing on my chest
alone would be a pleasant change from here
how do you gauge loneliness; have you ever felt so alone?
it feels like the light will never reach me here.
I am choking back my longing for shed tears,
so strangulated by my lonesome fears;
please don't worry too much, it only hurts when I breathe
failure of criticism

[08 Oct 2003|12:54am]

gigithepoppet
hey. im new in the comunity...so yea...just wanted to say hey

title or description

so yea...thats me...but i'll actually post a real post when i have something to say...i just wanted to introduce myself
failure of criticism

[06 Oct 2003|05:55pm]

blindsuicide
everyone's singing, we just want to be heard
disappearing everyday without so much as a word, somehow
wanna grab ahold of that little song bird
take her for a ride to the top of the world, right now.
failure of criticism

[05 Oct 2003|07:17pm]

livingblind
[ mood | feeling this again.. ]

Reality swept under beautiful mattresses, held down tight by fears that it will escape. By the tears that keep us locked up for days and by the smiles that quickly leave our faces.
If it weren't for us they say - if it weren't for them we say.
And they don't know why we never smile more than we must, and they can't imagine that we'd cry behind locked doors and open our skin to only bleed the life we've left.
And they can't imagine that love could carry us away.
And they never will.
And they won't ever see us drinking to an oblivion that we can never find.
And they won't ever see us falling on our back porches while sitting in broken chairs and smiling because it is only then that we can. It is only then that we make peace for the hours it takes to stay alive.
And we keep ourselves under these beautiful mattresses and hope that someone will use us, find comfort in our beauty and fall like we wish we could.
Fall like we never will.
And they never will
And we never will
And reality is only what we keep locked up.
And reality is what we're running from while we sit in our broken chairs, freezing, hoping that daylight will never come. Hoping that maybe it will warm up. Hoping that someone will use us tonight. Finding comfort in the oblivion we can never find and all the while living our life through the fall it takes to get there. Living through the blood it takes to feel.
Living through our dreams that will never be real.
Because reality is what's under our skin.
Because im suffocating under here
Because Im dying without this
Because I am dying with it.
And our mattresses will never be used.
And our hearts left no more than broken
And they never will
Because we can't.

failure of criticism

[04 Oct 2003|08:47pm]

somekindoftruth
[ mood | cold ]

I.
did you honestly think
the roulette would n3v3r s/top turning?

II.
the man's shoulders looked held down by gravity
and his arms did not sway when he w.alked

criticism

[01 Oct 2003|07:15pm]

somekindoftruth
there was a deck.
there was a blue sky.
there was your stare
resounding throughout
the light spring air.
i heard your songs again today,
carried over mountains and
landmarks we owned last summer.
there was me. and you.
our child, alone in his room
waiting for us to open his door.
somehow i smelled the interior
of your volvo during the class
we had together last year.
i took it again, hoping to find
a piece of your heart you may have left
behind the spring sky, i don't cry anymore.
i just pick through polaroids,
unable to decide where to run from here.
to you. to farmington. to ellicotville.
paris is a place we could have built
out of our hands and gazes and pictures.
there was a deck i sat on,
searching for you in october skies.
somewhere.
i wonder if maybe i have to wait
or stay late. even later.
it hurts to live here, beside your ghosts
lying on my bed. it is still unmade.
i sleep on the couch,
unable to disturb your shadow
lest it vanish with the sunrise.
criticism

[30 Sep 2003|07:19pm]

blindsuicide
[ mood | apathetic ]

Locate I
love you
some-
where in

teeth and
eyes, bite
it but

take care not
to hurt, you
want so

much so
little. Words
say everything,

I
love you

again,

then what
is emptiness
for. To

fill, fill.
I heard words
and words full

of holes
aching. Speech
is a mouth.

criticism

[29 Sep 2003|05:45pm]

blindsuicide
my words are my revenge; if they were to kill you, this would be your last breath.
criticism

[29 Sep 2003|12:54am]

livingblind
running through alleyways with our wrists open wide.
screaming something of hope taken from the children, and lives served on platters for five cents a piece.
give me salvation and love for my money.
give these bones something to live for, give my heart a reason to keep beating.
show me the floor at the bottom of the ocean, show me the drop from the top of this cliff.
give me the life it takes to walk a mile in your shoes and give me death to appreciate it.
let your hands cover my wrists and love me regardless of my name.
show me that i have a shot in hell to be better than this.
show me that this was never as bad as i thought it was.
and for once, love me without reason and touch me because you want to.
give me a reason to live and a life to appreciate.
because i'd rather die than live like this.
failure of criticism

[27 Sep 2003|09:59am]

somekindoftruth
there

under the river
above the stars

she was the kind of girl i thought i might marry
someday

i don't want to marry aboy. none of them
look like love
under the fresh water

under the great lake
(we used the stars as stepping stones)

vermont
is not a place i feel i can marry in
-where we made love on her rooftop

that was a summer gone last summer

i haven't swam above a starbed in two years
i haven't thought about diamond and white and

somewhen
i thought i might find the right boy
you

there
naked
but wrapped in stars

it is august now
and you are the kind of boy i think
i might marry

someday

on top of the river
blanketed in stars
criticism

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