Archive for November 7, 2009

Freakazoid Skeleton…

Posted in poetry, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on November 7, 2009 by ravenstooth


An aparition lurks through the tightest passages.

With no one wondering or looking at them.

How can they go on without a questioning.

There’s no tomorrow for them, they’re only floating around.

May I suggest to you, that when you see one.

You interrupt they’re slogging and open up the door.

So they can find their way, and go on home.

This small encounter could have the biggest impact.

You may just find out all the answers that you question.

If you could see them in all they’re perfect wisdom.

You should stop to listen if your fear will allow this.

Your chance may never come, but you should be ready.

For if you see one you shouldn’t pass on by.

The certain shimmering is only present in the clear mind.

A distinctive bodies, realm with in and around one.

Like a bird’s wing flutter, or even rain that’s falling.

It’s hard to discover or even determine but once you do.

Your will becomes unbending and your thoughts and dreams are abandoned.

This aparition is seeking a counterbalance through you.


Trick and stopped, all alone in the heart.

The forest shakes wild and these eye burn smoke.

Inched away from the abyss, the flowers thank the day.

Hold on outside the ambushed howling wolves are listening boldly to thrush absorption and wincing with feverish laughter.

These pasture hogs devoure sudden repetitive monsters.

I saw it once in the funeral weeping that resembled counterfiet learning.

A lie was held strong until the rhythm quirked an angry masked assailant.

Ground worm blankets a shrug of love inside the bordum curiosity.

Push me in the water and the wet volumn resounds like fireflies in the night’s hot summer fields.

There’s a mirror in my pocket, holding the statues of dispair at a stand still mockery.

Purse thief all jumbled with his intentions.

The baggage fit perfectly with the nighttime and the autumn outside delivered magic.

But at least you tried and begged for eternity to subside.

Put a finger on the last parade to keep the gentle wind from blowing reality into your eyes.

The past has a strange way of sneeking back upon you.

I could bring you back to me.

If I thought it would be better.

Then I remember how you confused the fuck outta me.

So I go on without a care.

Yet you’ll linger in my head, I guess, until I’m dead.

Freakazoid Skeleton…

Posted in poetry, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on November 7, 2009 by ravenstooth
Your eyes are all it takes. It’s over.
One blink manipulates. And colder.
I shouldn’t hesitate, but be bolder.
My mind still contemplates that it’s over.
Positions and inquiries, destined to fail.
The monster I’ve encouraged lives down this old trail.
The water is our poison, the bread is so stale.
We’ve died or we are dying, black as a raven’s tail. 



Call on me to do the things that make you sick inside.
Bend your back until you feel like you just have died.
Remember now. Out in the dark.
Come with me. As you arch.