jaggy

Patricia was a young penguin with an excitable nature and a mind full of adventure.  One day, the family bought a television, and that was a Saturday, and that evening the X-Factor was on.   "Mother," said Patricia, "I would like to be on the X-Factor!  I believe I could win it!" "Don't be silly child," said Patricia's mother, "You cannot sing.  You could never win the X-Factor!"   Patricia burst into tears and ran into her room. After the sobbing had ceased, Patricia decided to learn how to sing.  The months rolled on by, and Patricia's mother, on more than one occasion, had to bang on the ice to shut her up, and scream to drown out the

Train ----- You're a culture I'm a train I flip, I burn From shame Leaf on the rails Fall off the track I fall in love And break my back Pixies scream I'm like vulture Going to uni My subculture

The gifts of god ---------------- Look at you all With your new found power You abuse my trust Now I make you cower I'll give you a gift I call it disease Now look after your brother No more hate please What is it now? You killed your best friend Over some bread? Will this ever end? I'll  give you a gift Famine is its name Your crops will all wither Starvation your blame Yes my mortals? What the hell have you done? You didn't need me When you made the gun I'll give you a gift Destruction is yours Your salvation is never These are your wars Sigh, whats this You sprinkled my planet With napalm When I put you on it?

To Beef Rae, Love, Me --------------------- To be free again! I want to belong All around the coastline of you I sailed To be three again! Child prodigy I am, but I was never told I was hailed To Beef Rae again! You get the feeling I just said that to be clever And I failed

Much cooler when you're dead ---------------------------- 3000 years after I died My book was found With my poems inside After much confusion An answer was found They had a conclusion They met with the nation Shockwaves were spread Of one boy's revelation The life that I led Relived in their head Much cooler now I'm dead

Heart ----- The moon is alive and people are hurrying through the streets tightly clutching their new found treasures close to their heart I crouch in wait the people are hungry and I starve you watch me die breathless and lonely far from your heart A long time ago when people were healthy you would grow unfolding a note, reading then signing this is my heart

The Beauty of War ----------------- And the sounds the people make Creating new harmonics Within their caw. And the stream of crimson paint Flows infinitely on from the open wound. The open wound of the earth Bent and Buckled under the strain of ordinary lives. The Beauty of War. And it is dawn after the day before and the silence is Beautiful. And the people in suits write tributes, safetly back home, for the people who won't hear. Across the world, who cares who wins The parallel lines of bodies laid head to toe. The Beauty of Humanity. And something inside switches off, Because its easier for you all. And one day you will

A Tiny one to fill up this space so this page is full ----------------------------------------------------- This poem:   shorter than its Title

Mobile phone users! : Don't use a mobile/cellular phone ever, unless you really want a lobotomy within the next 10 years of your life. Stick the plastic carcinogen to the side of your head if you really want to, its your brain cells you are frying. You buy your kids a mobile phone, and you are buying them brain tumors. Don't use mobile phones. You wouldn't stick microwave deathwaves in your ear in any other environment. A bit of convinience now doesn't make up for the years you will spend as a cabbage in your future life. Ban mobile phones! 'Cellular phone, ringing out a death tone'

A place between Nothing and Now ------------------------------- I left school fulfilled But not without regret of course Relishing in my role As the last great commodity of divorce I decided to shave my head Inbetween fits of boredom and chronic ugliness Ripped out pages from the chronicles of my life and left it so meticulous

sunshine, oh sunshine! you flutter amongst these pages and kiss me to the sound of laughter on the green, green grass. i cling to this parchment, feel it's fibrous wrinkles against my fingertips. "i know you are in there, oh sunshine! i shall come in after you," i shout, as i watch this burst of blueredorangeyellow sound swirl around me. i've been searching for months for you and your unapologetic rays, oh sunshine. i shall journey into this manuscript, careful not to get ink on my hands or scuff my knees on the serifs you hide behind. i shall hold your birds until you return, to cast shadows in the forest and dance am

"there's something about love and longing..." you said. it's a sentence you never finish. or maybe, you never said it, never even opened your mouth. i don't understand what you mean when you say that, if you said anything at all. i drive my car ten thousand miles a day, with the music off and my brain on full blast. thinking of how you could just leave me in this city and let this happen without warning me first. this midwestern sinkhole has got me around the ankles, i say at least once every fifteen seconds. do you ever feel like you're just sinking in the water? because i do, i think to myself. i can't keep myself from shaking, shivering

After leaving the brain stem, highly suggestive adhesive keeps the words of the plan together.  Too bad that chewing gum rots the teeth so it's slow going.  Replace the gum then replace the teeth then replace the gums that they rest in.  Get a new skull to show off the white mess to your bridge club.  The pain killers alone stall the project for at least a week.  Not that it wasn't a fun detour, but let's be honest - we're in the final days here and even if the Rapture doesn't snap me up the massive flooding will.  I've got deja vu but manage to mask my reaction to the repetition with a well orchestrated smile.  The lips slide up the new teet

He walked through the timbers, A clawing at his breast, Pulsing pain and anger, Tearing at his chest. He stops, sits still, and listens, Hoping for some sign . . . A broken twig or print, Anything of mine. With a rush of hope he lunges, Rushes through the leaves, Driving on an instinct, That leads him to me. I feel his arms surround me, Blade and claws draw blood, And for a brief moment, Hunter and prey become one. And as our blood mingles, Blood brothers we become, And the hunter becomes the bear, Becomes kin to me.

When I blink my eyes I see pink like insides and it makes me ache for when I was the wrong kind of surprise the slipperiest sort of mistake when my mother mainlined me nicotine and martinis at dinner time so that I came out wiser than my hours implied and since that first day I get my olives on the side i drink the gin that i m offered from the life giving cup it hits the back of my throat like nostalgia but it s just not enough the guilt still coats my lips and sticks around longer than the nuclear fallout on idyllic archipelagos down south word of mouth keeps me paranoid about impending nuclear war bomb scares foo

"I'll turtle your noodle," she said In her smoothed over Mother Tongue but it was hard to take her seriously she had Diet Coke in her veins I admit it'd be fun totakeheroutgetherpregnantwithagirlchildthatshe'dhavetoabort Obviously. but How do I convey all that through a power point?