sodom and gomorrah
ugly, ugly, Turlington denounced.
the blinding smoke evanesce,
fat salt tears dry,
pitypity enmity, ineedtotaketheMRT!
anywhere quick tickatickati. time is ticking tickatickati.
don'tshowernow justletmeout!
justwait,i'llbequick,thenwecango,
ohnodon'tpout.
don'twastemytimeleh
pleasedon'tshout
arghh! you stupid crazy showering lout!
i can't slip past the cacophony unnoticed?
i can, you can't, don't rant rant rant.
you can't why can't
you shan't why shan't
please don't why not
i'll be done soon, i promi-
oh sod, hell, rot.
"well, if you go now, i'll look bad
if you go now, you can't come back"
what, a threat?
no, not that. just to tell you, don't regret.
humpty dumpty breaks, leaving behind
nothing. the horsemen take leave, go off for cake.
stuck in room
voicelessness of the black black computer screen
the undone bed, garden of sin
whir and choke of the oscillating fan
the faceless silent creature outside
eye on tv,
you
crossed my path, fresh from bath
poemishy sylvia plath
head in oven currypuff
hard to live with, rough and tough
you and your own
aftermath
irreversible irreparable irrevocable irresponsible irreducible irre-
ire ire bloody fire, don't you offer to pay for my cab
don't you offer to carry my bag
because it's
irreversible irreparable irrevocable irresponsible irreducible.
i pull away again away from your kisses
hisses
red paperhearts crushed
you pushed me over the
pushpushpushpushPUSH! limit
wet sweet
butterflies that decayed into germs, worms, devious Hermes
black plaguey moths.
they who threaten. you threaten.
flutter stops.
mmeeellllttttt......
butter slops.
you die. nought
but a shadow melting in my heart
but
don't think it's only the heart that b-b-breaks.
-Joel Tee
argh, this is CAP standard, probably, i think, though i hope not...
Wednesday, March 31, 2004
So She walked in, without her usual trounce.The harsh light slashing at her, stifling the tints in her hair.Her mormal ruddy complexion is still present, but this time for different biological reasons.She doesn't just sit, she begs the chair to hug Her. But the armless furniture ebbs away, much like others.
Tears freefalldown, and we awkwardly use the convenient napkin to dab at them. It was ridden with bulletshots, aimed at her heart, who says it doesn't b-b-break? A lipid smile is squeezed out, ironically, to comfort us; frail attempts to denounce fastidious monsters who overdemand. And undersupply. So you ask where do all these dreams go, if Elysium is denied. We provide no answers, only psuedo-comfort, because we are undergoing the same turmoil. But I refrain from liberating pent up rivers. I refuse to, not there, with the horrendous singers, prying children and THE YELLOW PEOPLE. and of course, The Chickens, suffocated with oil, but still listening.
I scour for other options (both to do in the immediate and long term sch plans), but I failed dolorously, so we turned to the ever unwavering hand of gossip, always eager to save you in neverneverknowwhattodo situations. The cheap, disgustingly relished thrill of harmless chatter, which attempts to pass of as profound inquisitions of acquaintances. 3-mth-friends........?
She vomits out an excuse to go home, vile and pungent...to grief?to continue her sobfest?to detach herself from this matrix? I would probably do all. Throw myself into Plato's gnarled arms and let him pull the plug sticking out from my skull. Wait, that's too anachronistic, scrap Plato, Neo is the new messiah.
Flown to Hell and back, we'd better have learnt something.Abyssmal writing doesn't matter, abyssmal reading does. CAP!!!!!!!dammitammmitdammit.Plea for someone to churn out 10 f******** brilliant poems and pass it to me by 31st Mar. Oops, that's today.
Tears freefalldown, and we awkwardly use the convenient napkin to dab at them. It was ridden with bulletshots, aimed at her heart, who says it doesn't b-b-break? A lipid smile is squeezed out, ironically, to comfort us; frail attempts to denounce fastidious monsters who overdemand. And undersupply. So you ask where do all these dreams go, if Elysium is denied. We provide no answers, only psuedo-comfort, because we are undergoing the same turmoil. But I refrain from liberating pent up rivers. I refuse to, not there, with the horrendous singers, prying children and THE YELLOW PEOPLE. and of course, The Chickens, suffocated with oil, but still listening.
I scour for other options (both to do in the immediate and long term sch plans), but I failed dolorously, so we turned to the ever unwavering hand of gossip, always eager to save you in neverneverknowwhattodo situations. The cheap, disgustingly relished thrill of harmless chatter, which attempts to pass of as profound inquisitions of acquaintances. 3-mth-friends........?
She vomits out an excuse to go home, vile and pungent...to grief?to continue her sobfest?to detach herself from this matrix? I would probably do all. Throw myself into Plato's gnarled arms and let him pull the plug sticking out from my skull. Wait, that's too anachronistic, scrap Plato, Neo is the new messiah.
Flown to Hell and back, we'd better have learnt something.Abyssmal writing doesn't matter, abyssmal reading does. CAP!!!!!!!dammitammmitdammit.Plea for someone to churn out 10 f******** brilliant poems and pass it to me by 31st Mar. Oops, that's today.
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