[x]

silver-tinged twilight owls

nestle,

hooting

along

with the help of lofty, fresh leaves

so too, do the summer's evening

winds whistle around

the empty park bench passing

through the p

Owl and CrowYour fingertips stuck to my forehead, and popped off when you pulled them back. We were both wearing black that day, mourning our own deaths. (Those little deaths that happen again and again.) Kisses planted grow rainbow flowers at twilight. We were waiting for twilight, that day. I pushed your fingers back into place on your hands, kissing the tips of each one. You cat-purred, I bird-screamed. Twilight rolled in like a fog, smooth and beautiful, the way it does sometimes in autumn. We didn't need anything more.

I Modestly Trudge OnMuck plastered and carcass ridden:
the earth is a burial ground
where humanity went extinct long ago.

And we, the souless wanderers left,
we hope for a new meaning, a new life...
We hope, and we pretend desperately
that hope is enough

to keep us human.

ListeningListening

When the angel speaks, Mary dips a finger
into the wine, holds it out for the angel to taste.
This may be the last thing
of the world .... The angel's tongue
wraps around her finger, a string tied tight.
Mary wants to remember the cracked cup,
the wind fluttering like a trapped moth,
the taste sharp as a pinprick in her mouth.
"Chosen," the angel calls. But Mary is listening
to the scrape of an oxen's hooves
as he drags a cart, wheels crunching leaves,
the last thing .... She already knows.
She sniffs her hands: eucalyptus, pungent, crushed,
a bright thread tying her to this world.
"Innocent," the angel says. "No," Mary answers.

stargazersShe lives in a river of stars, intricately weaved into the eyes of Eden
it's just
the way his roses find beauty in her bramble-berry eyes
watching the sun sink into the ocean
together
waiting for the night sky

I will always remember him, eyes dancing, hiding her broken heart

Rainwater, hurricanes of lonely gray spilling onto the cloudy sidewalk. The stars are gone tonight.

keepsakein old boxes we keep
next to spider web walls and heirloom
root cellars

small pieces of ourselves

watermarked
hoarded like weapons from the
enemies within

the shrapnel of unsettled palavers

waiting
for the right time on the wrong day
or
the right day but the wrong time

to echo sharp olloquies
thought erased with the analgesic
ebbing of time

salvaged from boxes
and back to the surface
displaced

like sickness in gingerale dreams

in vitro meatsloth;
sill diffusing the bombs

the crime sorcier of hyper-
sexual plants

this air is so dirty
the sophists are sweating

while eating their supper, while
scratching their slogans

'to the spine of our eyes
shorthand-surreptitious

and the future assured
on the whim of synthetics

confined to the marginsapproximate silence has killed
our mystique with dancing out of time
proto-
vertebrates conscribed

to the physics of a ripple

currently disclosable informationthey're naked ships on the horizon
smuggling the tender metal-armed children
who will untie our knots and
tend to our fields
raised on impunative
alchemy and indignant occamy

there is quite a strange
thing doing quite strange things
somewhere entrained by the eyes paregoric
a spate of pro-
biotic indifference

and there are some beasts
you can't catch with tackle and bait
ones you must lure
with more orwellian versions of the truth
and those are the ones to keep
locked in small skeleton closets
to smother with pillows and bury

in the basement on christmas eve

HumanI don't want to go outside.

It just don't

I hate explaining myself
I hate reality sometimes
I hate being alone
I hate having people around me

I'm sometimes a hypocrite
I'm sometimes a liar
I'm sometimes a procrastinator
I'm sometimes too bunt
I sometimes can't catch a clue
I sometimes don't understand
I sometimes get jealous
I sometimes get scared

I sometimes remember him
and want to slam my head on the counter
to erase what I thought was fatherly love

I'm scared of lots of things
I'm scared of bumps in the night
I'm scared of being touched
I'm scared of upsetting friends
I'm scared of being insensitive
I'm scared of people dying
I'm sca

See there's the girlSee there's the girl
The girl who's losing grip
Who is slowly losing everything
her screams of pain and sorrow
Fill her heart.

Do you hear her
Can you see her
Can you
Listen to her
Look at her scars that bleed

She means no harm
She's just dying inside
Help her before she's gone
Don't let her slip

Do you hear her
can you see her
can you listen to her
look at the scars that bleed

There she lays
The girl who cried out
the girl who everyone
Laughed at
The girl who did the permanent
Solution to a temporary problem.

DO you hear her
Can you see her
Can you listen to her screams
Look at her she's six feet under now

She stands tallShe stands tall and brave
no pain is clear,
but look in her eyes
and you see
the mask of fear and
sadness.
she has a secret
a small one
but it is big
she
fakes
her
smiles
her
laughs
anything
she
tries to
hide
her
pain
with laughter
and falseness

she is slowly slipping
losing her sanity
her grip on that fragile line
she calls her relief.

You see a girl
that smiles every day,
but maybe she has a
secret one like no other
a plain to escape
the hell
she calls earth.

ProphecyProphecy

Above the kneeling angel, a sun dangles,
a ball of yarn. I want to unravel
what they did to me. Mary crosses her arms,
an X of blue cotton. They hung her son
on an X, cedar planks haphazardly nailed together,
no pattern, only
what has already happened.
I want prophecies,
warnings, road signs, a hand that scrawls,
their hands deep inside me,
claw hammers. Under Mary's blue robes,
red cloth drips, the folds gathering
into a puzzle on the floor.
The painter knew the end,
so he shaped the beginning so
there could be no other end,
no, if only I ....could I?

DepressionI visited my psychiatrist today
and in an office with no evident emotion
no obvious soul beyond a Gettys image
in a painfully drab frame
screwed firmly into a pale green wall
that matched the colour
of his uninspired suit
he told me
that people like me
infuriate him,

he said that six months earlier
he had been told that he
only had mere months to live
and that he had been clutching, snatching,
grasping onto every second that he had left.
His light brown skin creased and
cracked as he told me this,
frail grey hair fell onto the lines of his forehead
and I said nothing
aware of my body swallowing itself in shame,

'So to see a person,' he sai

catch and releaseproselytizing disparate discoveries
opined by rusty keys
contraindication was a craze
that could rout us through these doldrum days
hegira fed and ostentatious
quicksilver in a haze

and drawn the perfect line, i've never
usurped the universe
inscrutable,
re-usable,

but i can't spit out the hook...

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More from ~evolutionhotline

i‡
‡ åm ‡mmørtal
i am
the ultimate wizdøm
iz absølutely nuthing
but ‡ still exist
‡ am neverending
like every møvie yøu've seen
i am the bad guy that ålwayz diez
but i never die
the møvie creates imaginatiøn
‡ create reality
i can be anything
ør nuthing
whatever ‡ chøøze
my søul iz the space yøu live in
each universe iz every imaginatiøn i've created
each galaxy iz every memøry i've existed
and each wørld iz every hell i've imagined før yøu
and my mˆnd iz the phuture yøu have yet tø

ghosti am no longer here
but i am still here
somewhere
i'm so tired of life
and not scared of death
but i'm neither living, nor dead
i've come to find out
there'z a new road
at the end of the road
but you have to get there
before you can see it
it's not a road to anywhere
and it's not really even there
but, like me, it still exists
it's like a message, a story
i'm finding out who i am now
i don't pheel alone anymore
i don't pheel so numb anymore
i can finally understand
i waz never meant to be there
it waz all a joke, a riddle, a game
a maze, with no cheeze
just a road, an exit
without knowing how you got there
suc

a safe placethey're taking it all away
all my smilez, all my rights
just let me shed a tear
and then i'll stand up and fight
no one knowz the fear i know
the pain, the hatred
i've grown an age since then
i've never phelt this sedated
but i've never phelt this alive
and they're the walking dead
there'z such a difference
in the way we all see this
and everything iz painted red
i know it's not what we'd like
but it's what we need most
something to come home to
i can't play their game
it'll never be the same
and i can't bring it back
never have i been so numb
playing gamez with the dumb
and the caged beast attacks
becauze it knowz quite

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medicated

by ~evolutionhotline, Nov 16, 2004, 12:02:23 PM
Literature / Poetry / Transgressive / Free Verse

temporarily removed.

medicatedby ~evolutionhotline

Literature / Poetry / Transgressive / Free Verse

©2004-2013 ~evolutionhotline

at least until the government gets their head out of their ass.

!DameStjernelys Feb 25, 2010

Definitely captures the feelings and thoughts you get in psych ward hell.

Reply

~evolutionhotline Feb 25, 2010

damn straight. thank you.

Reply

~deadinside420 Mar 1, 2005

aw.....This makes me...sad...yet...makes me smile.
It.......
I dunno, its remindful...and its extremely sweet...like a comfort blankie.
Did you say you wrote it For him, or just about him?
Either way....beautiful...

Reply

~evolutionhotline Feb 5, 2010

i just reread your comment. i guess ~mystiphied asked you to read this a long time ago. in your comment, you asked if she wrote it for me, or just about me. well, actually, i wrote it while i waz in a mental home. she just wanted to share it with you. anyway, i really appreciated your comment, so thank you again.

Reply

~evolutionhotline Mar 17, 2005

thank you very much!

Reply

~Dviperman Feb 5, 2005

Like everyone else said, WOW. I'm not sure I can say anything else that would fit.

Reply

~evolutionhotline Mar 17, 2005

thank you!

Reply

~silver-rayne Nov 17, 2004 Writer

shit man, that's beyond my ability to comment on, it's so angry, frustrated, hated, sad, so deep, dark, void...

Reply

~evolutionhotline Nov 18, 2004

thank you

Reply

~silver-rayne Nov 18, 2004 Writer

i only speak the truth

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