i ammy name is judgeda shadow stands behind meborn in chainsmy daily breadmy age is just a momenta stone's breathborn in wintertame but deadmy eyes see silencea river in my handsborn in wasted yearsthe coldest redmy voice is trusta stone's reachborn in ironmy mouth unfed
quietlyi am subtlety and feari'm the words you long to heari'm the end you'll never seei'm the best you'll ever bei'm the sky without the suni'm a moment just beguni'm the truth you'll never knowi'm aflame yet weakly glowyou're the rope to tightly bindyou're the lost i'll never findyou're the surface up aboveyou're the strength to weakly loveyou're the science to my faithyou're the body to my wraithyou're the desert to my seayou're a slave and i am free
thinkseas shifthands holdwings lifthearts coldsky blueblood redwhite liesplay deadsee mestand tallshort breathlong fallso small
humilityyou can hide in plain sightand pretend you’re asleepyou’re just under surfaceand still in too deepand you know you’re a sinnerand still you want moreyour mind is so tiredyour muscles so soreand there isn't much moreto your life than a breathyou began with your birthbut you won't end in deathand i know that you’re scaredbut my son, you are freeand you mean so much morethan the ocean to me
freedom that won't be ignoredlittle blade who lifts and cutswho raises high and worries dustoh softest knifeoh sliver’d feara lofty lifea river clearquietly you raise your edgeand wordlessly my crimes allegefeast, my little weightless burdeneat, consume the gloaming skyne’er forget where you beganand so your birth do not denya throne you seekyet e’er you flya sea divides usyou and i
when what's in comes outstep on the earthand give birth to the sunyou’re so full you could burstand you weren’t meant to lastnow you have to go firstand your eyes see the starsthough they’re faded and weaklike the lies you’re convinced ofbut too scared to speakand you may not be normalbut you know you’re no freaknow look up at the wheelsand forget where you standcome to know that your mindis not tied to the landor the worth that she feelsand the sky takes your handand the wound in you heals
eyes face the fire, backs face the doorin flame-lit hallson starless nightsthe elders sitand dream of sightsof ancient wondersfrozen lightsthe north has holdas cold as boneher eyes like snowher voice like stoneand time comes onwhen men will foldere too longthe old ones seekgreat futures darkand deeply splitthe currents weakand parts togetherstrangely fitand deeply wrongthen speak they wordsof bitter depthand long rememberedsecrets keptof time when timehimself had sleptand winter hidand fiercely weptthose lightsher tearsthey’re dark tonightthey hide and keeptheir wilting lighto’er head of mountaincloud and homecare not theyfor man or throneand know theywe are each alonevast in voidlike those abovein howling silenceweakly lovebut deep in winterflickers lightthe elder’s firegranting sightbrought you hereby secret guidesthis empty spherethe heart abides
perseus and medusaold chaos spits from her gazethrough night and creeping fogyou stand blind and silentiron still and desperately heldthe worth of you weighed falsein the glittering scales of her eyesher voice a wondrous discordantcalls you brother, free and equalyour brothers lie graven behindand you must find peaceand loyalty worthy of namewhen in strength you kneelthe greatest hoary mountainrose in fire, storm and furyand the deepest river is a swordthat bends and splits the earthbring to hand that selfsame gracebless the one who bows and scrapeswho whispers even as her body fallsand her face is lifted toward heaven
matthew 5:30there are ghosts in our eyesthey’re our own to despisetheir whispers are our crieswe two lonely as oneburn inside a black sunit’s the end we’ve begunand we swim in great seasleaving what we could seizecoughing quiet diseaseand she sees who we arethrough her lens from afarnormal turns to bizarrehere we’re going awayhearing voices that sayyou’re so brave to betray
Dear Santa Please Send Me a Toyboy!Dear Santa please send me a toyboyA stud full of much zest and vigour,Handsome, tall,Because I’m small,So I’d really like someone who’s bigger.I know I’m getting on a bit,Let’s just say 90 plus!I’m a wee bit loopy,And a wee bit droopy,And I look like the back of a bus!There’s just a few warts on my old face,A hundred and ten if you’re counting,But though I’m a hagI do need a shag,‘Cos my passion is steadily mounting.I suppose my BO’s a bit strong.I’m generally known as ‘Miss Whiffy’.A bloke minus a nose,Would be good, I suppose,As long as he had a good stiffy!I’ve one leg that’s shorter than t’other,But I’m sure the right man wouldn’t mind.And my underarm hair,Resembles a bear,But I know I’m a bloody good grind!My bosoms don’t really exist nowAnd my bottom has sunk to my feet.I’ve no teeth in sight,But on a dark night,I’m
SantamasGive me iPhone 6 for Christmas,Give me puppies, give me mirth,Give me money, cookies, movies;Give me Christmas with no worth.
Terse VerseEvery poet's forced to ceaseWhere stopped by language limits,And wrestle with thoughts that tease;Stuff too much meaning in it.
my mirageTut on the NileVIP stylein like Sphinxso wealthy it stinksland of plentyface on the twentypampering entouragemy mirage
Curly MustacheSwirly swirlyHis mustache is so curlyAround and around it's hypnotizingI'll make him some dubstep so synthesizingMan, that 'stache is so curly
The Three Garridebs: Dr. Lysander StarrA/N: “…old Dr. Lysander Starr, who was mayor in 1890." “I never knew a Dr. Lysander Starr, of Topeka.”Lysander StarrIs wunderbar.A dream of a mayor.(‘Cos he was never really there.)
The Problem of Thor Bridge: Mr. Joyce CummingsA/N: Mr. Joyce Cummings, the rising barrister who was entrusted with the defence… “I will see [Gibson] in the morning, when steps can be taken for Miss Dunbar's vindication."Mr. Joyce CummingsWill never reach his up-summings.After the evidence-showing,Mr. Cummings is going.
Death by ColonoscopyGasoline is what it most resembles--That high-octane concoction for your cleaningRelies upon the basic fundamentalsApplied to pipes and valves in need of preening. Like carburetors sputtering to life,Upon consuming lubricants and fire,Intestines active with vocations rifeExplode in songs of torrents they inspire! Though chrome might shine when doused in caustic juices,And pistons made of steel defy combustion,Membranes of flesh are known for gentler uses,Refined for tasks related to digestion! I dutifully swallowed Satan’s nectarAnd rode shit creek without a surge protector!
Rhyme,Rhyme,Rhyme,Rhyme,RhymeI hate poems that rhymeBecause nothing rhymes with rhymeExcept maybe timeOr mimeOr...............Lime?
chocolate cakethe earth can shakemy bones can breakbut i'll never give youmy chocolate cake