#24

This. Is a rant.

"Locutions, Solutions" on March 20, 9:38 PM

I cry

I laugh

I sing

I shout

Dance

Slump

Walk

Jump

I'm sad

I'm mad

Crazy

Sane

I am full of opposites

And unending ends

I am a walking oxymoron

Breathing oxygen that supports the oxen

back in my homeland.

I'm flat. I'm platonic

Yet, I am horribly, terribly,

utterly moronic

at times.

You know me as genius,

you know me as friend

you know me as madman

will this insanity end?

You see blacks and whites and yellows and browns

I see blues and purples and greens and reds.

I say what I mean, you mean what you say

They're not the same thing.

I feel like going far away

for where I come from, lines are broken.

The sky is fallen because gravity pulls down clouds

leaving puddles of heavenly tears cascading into sewers

The clean, sewers that purify...soon enough, we'll be drinking

purified cloud juice that fills our heads with daydreams and the like.

But that'd take too long.

For now, I'll flee.

I'll flee from these faces staring at me.

Who, at the time, knew not what they'd become

But now, looking back, that girl and I are one.

But, unlike her, I know what's heading towards me.

I am the impossible.

#23

This is a really emo poem, after a friend and I had a bad conversation. It lead me to tears. It's suuuper-emotional.

"Pierced" on March 17, 2:55 AM

Tears fall too easily
when nestled in the soul
when dampened breaths heavy with sighs
condense and eyes leak storms into oceans,
puddles that surround me

Tears fall when you speak
Jealousy, rage...
they're all chained down to me
I'm a prisoner,
but you don't seem to realize that.

A dampened mood is constricting
and wails and screeches
like cat's meow when angered


Bowls of ice catapult towards me
sharp swords of icicles break off their branches
and pierce me

Right. There.
In the heart, much like Cupid's arrow,
though it's archer is not blind
nor is it a baby who knows of such things

Tears fall easily...
especially when you're a ball
curled in a dark corner
or perhaps, sprawled all over,
pensively clutching at the roots of your hair
in agonizing thoughts
as you lean against a wall
and pound your head on it.

Why, why, why?
Fits of rage are thunderstorms and clouds
in my thoughts.
Jealousy is a high tide that drowns me
I can't swim.
Love...it's a calamity, a malady that ails me, it chokes me.
I am a target for such things,
that is why archers pierce me with their icicle arrows
and their bows of wild branches.

Come, bind my wounds,
though you know me not.
I'll assure you, there's more to the tip of the iceberg
when you peer down into murky saltwater
A lot more is hidden,
all of which can strike against you
like a snake, jabbing at it's opponent
or it can abrade you and sting you
bring you down perhaps, like the Titanic.

Oh act like you're high and mighty.
Why should I care, if you don't take the time
to really dig deep.
I'm an ammonite, coiled up through years
maybe millennia under dirt, though not as long...
I am a pearl you must dive and crack an obscuring obstacle for
I am not transparent, but if you want me to be, I can.
However, when I do reveal myself,
when I do take off this mask
I fear you won't recognize me.

So why tears, why?
Why must you play on these slopes
that are my cheeks?

#22

This next one is about a character who is oppressed. And I used a ton of prompts for this, but unfortunately the contest was deleted. Stupid contest-holder...>.> -mutters- AAnyway. It's a challenge, and I used a ton of pictures, but yeah.

"Find Me" on March 13, 5:23PM (Obviously, I need to catch up on my updates...not that anyone's reading...)

Standing alone in a gloomy courtyard,
darkened by clouds obscuring sunlight's warmth
A towering building looms over me
a bell tolls, each chime resounds,
hangs in the air.
A shrill scream tears the foggy air
Chains clank, bars rattle

All this when loving fog lifts me,
We wave apart the clouds,
fan them to distant lands

Light shines through the sky
leaving hearts in its wake,
speaking heart-shaped holes through the fog.
Then I fall...
For you.

I, behind bars, peer at green eyes
glowing with envy...
as I realize that you, not I am imprisoned.

What's this? I see...
you've fallen for me as well
so find the key to me
My heart is yours --- is anyone
for those who strive to try,
to survive through a foggy maze,
not sparkling with heart-shaped cutouts of light,
pasted into the sky.

Dig into the pile of keys and find one,
just one. The one whose handle's encrusted
with broken glass, due to many times shattered.
Block the obstacles, and find it, like a needle in a haystack.
Carry it to this lock, and we'll see
if this not-so-open book will tell you her story.

Pictures used: (by the way, these are all from people on DeviantArt)

#21

I'm telling you, I'm losing it again. The next few posts are going to be horrendous.

Actually...no, wait, yes. Yes, horrendous, indeed. (At least it's nothing like my old old old poetry as can be seen on AllPoetry-- hey, no, don't look me up, please, don't. There are things you do NOT want to see. It's...aww damn, it's horrible. Like, do me a favor, and look in the mirror. My old poems, are worse than what you see. Like...REALLY, REALLY, HORRIBLY...A LOT WORSE...because you're beautiful! [Ehh...it's Love Month for Squishi Clan, I'm supposed to give a compliment. But please, take it personally.] So yeah, horrible poetry, here we go!)

"Just One" On March 11, 10:33 PM

One touch,

we brush

arms that one day when we sat

side by side, clapping and jumping around

with the music that ever so wildly

unbinds our souls

A split second,

your shoe tapped against mine

we pulled back,

as if electrocuted.

Intoxicated, I'm drunk

my heart drenched, my mind painted

with worshipful images of you

My heart races

I'm cold at night

Rain falls through

this broken umbrella you hold for me.

But why?

Why must you ignore me so

still, I have to endure every fleeting glance.

I wish to look back

but my eyes are windows to my souls,

and one glance

one split second our eyes meet

from a blunt chocolate brown

to a crystal pool of amber syrup

two gazes meet

one secret emerges

But why?

Why is one hug

innocently laid upon another

from your arms to hers...

why is that a dagger that pierces my skin

like hail pounding on me

and wind tearing at my hair

Just one.

One touch,

a brush,

a tap,

a glance,

a hug....

while one world comes crashing down

on a single me.

Yeah...see, there's this guy that's sort of...taking up most of the hard drive in my mind, if you will. And he's like a virus, and I don't want him popping up everywhere, but he does, and it's not really annoying (actually, it kinda is, because the thought of him makes me forget what I'm trying to do...it's more like, distracting), but I'm like sooo crazy about this whole issue that you'll see more poems 'bout this dude.

Oh, and the prompt is: "Its just a peck. Why is my heart pounding?"- Yura from "Honey Hunt"

#20

"Glitter" on March 8^th 2010, terribly early in the morning. (<-- This is in the words of AllPoetry, not mine. The poem, of course, is mine.)

A spark ignites

emanates from a tiny candle

lit from a match

of paper and cardboard and a tiny little tip

white or red, whichever you prefer

friction struck on emery like sandpaper

and burnt sand, which makes glass

is transparent,but is mutilated coral

when it first started

chewed on by parrotfish

protected by polyps with tons of swaying arms

that branch out like trees, but these arms move

and sting the nosy fingers who touch the creatures' mouths.

Mouths that eat and mouths that chew

I bid you adieu,

but how can I, for my mouth is on my face

and in it a little crater, which leads to a hose

which, like a snake moves in undulating motions.

Food, go down, I command you,

But I choke and sputter

and spit it out.

The mucous surrounds like frozen sap

stuck under a branch of a pine tree

who inhales carbon and exhales oxygen

for us to breathe, making us free

emancipating us from our ball-and-chain slavery

from this love that binds us to the ground

and pins us to this chair

and our lover sees us, fascinated...

in our state, thrashing in despair,

he does nothing but stand there.

Love is patient, love is kind

love makes me blow my mind

Love is sparkly, love is shiny

Love is like seasalt, briny.

Love glitters for those who reflect

a dazzling light for friends, imperturbed.

Written in Freewrite section, 8:32 minutes. Uhmm. It was in a topic called "Glitter." You must be wondering where all this came from "Glitter." I'll give you a hint: it starts with spark. Another hint? It ends with shininess. I tried to incorporate vocab. Tell me if I failed, yes?

#19

My muse again. I was in art class looking at pictures my teacher took in Central Park during vacation. My teacher's like me, he takes pictures of random pretty things people don't catch all the time. I love how the shot of a camera can make us double-take at things we happen to pass by and ignore everyday. Sad to say, nature is very often taken for granted. Naturally, I was in school...though, the uniform thing I can't say where I got it from...I let my mind wander, yes, through this poem, it's supposed to do that. Uhmm...enjoy? xD

"Glints" on March 3, 2010

It's your loss

but you're not mad

or sad...

you don't even feel bad

for plaid ---

it's absence on your uniform,

leaving behind textiles of blue and white,

but not a dreamy shade, oh no.

Navy blue lies in your midst ---

the color of night, of unknown depths.

A grey white sits on your chest

and rests

at the best place above your heart,

idly tuning the clouds a bright, cotton white

that shines across the sky,

gleaming, reflecting the sun's platinum

liquid metal, cool and pouring

not red hot but a flowing silver

separates into spots of rainbows that fill the

blacks and grays and whites,

spilling not a drop of paint

outside the lines.

Wind blows, the natural eraser

and wipes the slate clean

and whisks off the color of things,

leaving behind only two-dimensional outlines

of trees in parks and sand on beaches,

to start over again.

Like a child coloring,

purple trees, orange tides that glisten

from the light of a black-light sun

on the run

from east to west

and all turns to black darkness with

pinpricks of a celestial light,

like a flashlight's beam through a thatched straw hat.

#18

This day just seems so eternal, but frankly, I must temporize, for my homework seems so varicose, like my personal Goliath, looming over me. If only I had a slingshot and a smooth stone from a nearby creek, but alas, a pencil and paper is what I'll need. If only I had a bow to string and shoot the pencil with at a distant sheet of paper far away. Unfortunately, that's not the way to tackle this malady.

Just a little rant/prose thing, practicing my vocab and stuff. I feel like I need to expand my vocabulary. I'll start writing some stuff using new vocabulary I've picked up, that is, if I've learned any. I'm becoming quite a Dictionary.com addict.