zondag 29 december 2013

Teen angst isn't really my cup of tea.




Teen angst.

I heard you slit your wrist and bragged about it.
One time found your self esteem
and on the same day drowned it.
Recite Shakespeare for the melancholy
Don't confess to loving twilight, because your sorry
that you don't have any better taste.
Call your whole life a waste,
but still confess your torment on the net.
Poetry that gets stale, after the first couplet.
Misery and heartbreak, we've all heard before.
Recycled song lyrics and metaphors.
Verses that get stuck in your head and sound like the mainstream lame.
(And) every night you fold your hands and pray for fame.
Just suck my dick and get over it.
Cause you're in my way you retard nitwit.
That gold star is mine, you lame fat hoe
Forget your teen angst and stop stealing my show.
Yes, I know what your thinking, did I have to be so mean.
Do I have to rag on the artistic merits of a simple teen.
Must I steep so low to get some attention.
Well just look at what she wrote, convince me of my misapprehension.

donderdag 19 december 2013

Petite teenage girl shows her boobs




Where is you shame?
You turn on your web-cam and browse on chat roulette,
waving your wiener around at a little 13 year old girl from Australia.

And then you hop on trough, to the porn sites.
Where you look for scantily clad young ladies,
from all around the world,
who have no more shame to lose.

After that,
you surround your self with some jerk-offs, on a fan-fiction website.
With poets and writers who put literature to shame.
Who use dirty words to get some attention.

woensdag 18 december 2013

Bob hits his wife (A poem about escalation with two different endings)

When I preform this poem I actually read the first part twice. (once for every ending.)
It is a cautionary tale, about what our choices can lead to.



Bob hits his wife:

she sighs an awkward silence,
he growls a rooted violence.
she throws around her nasty words,
that he pretends he hasn't heard.

option 1
she lashes out in cries and screams,
he presents to her his newfound dreams.
and comforts her in open arm.
inviting, loving and warm.

option 2
she lashes out in cries and screams,
his anger rises to extremes.
he hits her hard upon the head.
she bleeds, she falls....she's dead.

vrijdag 13 december 2013

I am music unheard, I am poetry on unseen forums.




I am raising my sanity and procrastinating.
I wonder about what music really is.
I hear people talking and machines grinding and just start tripping balls.
I see bright colors running trough my emotions.
I want to preserve this feeling.
I am raising my sanity and procrastinating.

I pretend every day that I feel as good as now.
I feel worthless and neglected at the same time.
I touch the edge of my mind and fear I'll tip over.
I cry when I think of falling down there, I don't want to die like that.
I am raising my sanity and procrastinating.

I understand that my thoughts are never really popular.
I say that I am an artist.
I dream about a bigger audience.
I try to write all of my feelings down.
I hope I can one day shed my fear of dying unheard.
I am raising my sanity and procrastinating.



Mood: Productive
Music: Soundgarden black hole sun.

dinsdag 10 december 2013

Scared little boy, scarred man. I am.

I am drowsy yet wide awake.
I wonder if it has anything to do with the new medication I take.
I hear a buzzing in the silence.
I see dancing shadows on the walls.
I want to feel alive again.
I am drowsy yet wide awake.

I pretend that my heart isn't crying for a cigarette.
I feel as if my world is crumbling.
I touch my chest to hear the beating of my heart.
I worry that I might not make it.
I cry because I'll have so little to leave behind.
I am drowsy yet wide awake.

I understand so little of the path in front of me.
I say farewell to the future all to often.
I dream that someday the past will stop haunting me.
I try to move away from all my fears.
I hope to really catch some sleep tonight.
I am drowsy yet wide awake.