Helel: "In accordance with awe, shall we not wet the beaks of the impounded and open the golden maw?"
Kate: "Come and find the firestone broke the cradle and the heath is afeather, I shall but sprung like a promise to weather."
Lucifer: "Is the gloomy stake left with feet adjoined for a door, the promise is ancient, the antique is so pourn."
Aurora: "Timidity like timely strikes the ground flashed across the weathered hetherseconds like amber on the fritz. "
Uraeal: "I copiously decline the stooping ingate of a plan, like vespers cross dark circles and racoon city is old and planned."
RK: "So fearsome but tired the wolf, hell is rolled up and death has rolled over."
DR Dragon: "angsty pray for the weary let Zeus now dowse next and inspect the coral city."
Zeus: "In videographic cards there are other games, let wicked things while I ask them to say."
PW 1: *Has returned, tires of the usual stroll and begins towards the old stones.*
arophc varuag: "Tip back the gamed throngs like milling wet eaves that parlay for soon songs."
The Forbidden one: *Has returned, ushers forth to find the fray this here and now*
---End of act II---
I saw a flower standing in a ray of weeds,
Beautiful, from afar, it seemed.
I stepped closer, heart filled with greed,
For I wanted that growing seed.
I tried picking it up, thorns poking my thin skin,
It pricked me, it hurt me, yet I still wanted to hold it,
Because it's beauty pulled me in.
I saw a girl, standing in a crowded room,
Her eyes gleamed, beautiful, she seemed.
I stepped closer, heart filled with love,
Yet my mind wanted me to go above.
And now I realise, I am that flower,
And she is the person holding it,
I hurt her, through my words, through my actions,
Yet she still holds me close.
But to her, the beauty of the flower is beyond compare,
Even if the flower can't see the same reflection anywhere,
It blooms, it gives light,
But inside, the flower isn't alright.
Math could be easy.
I could go to college that way.
I could get a math degree and be rich.
I do all my homework.
To unlock everything.
I play with rocks on the playground.
I don’t know what they are, but I pretend I like rocks and hate people.
I hate running and laughter.
I want to be angsty.
So I can be better.
Then I didn’t go to college, anyway.
I was too busy being smart.
I wish math had been easy.
I could have been rich that way.
But instead, I wasted years.
Learning that I’m not a savant, after all.
I would write in a diary.
And leave it open on the counter, for attention.
All that would happen, is coffee spilling all over it.
Destroying my thoughts and fears that I had wasted time writing down.
And my mom yelling about how I’m always making a mess, and I’m such a mess…
I learned not to spend too much on diaries.
As they would always end up in the trash anyway.
We’re not supposed to be this way.
Us 60 year olds.
When I was a teen.
Say- 17?
Maybe younger.
When they called people like me “angsty”
or “quirky.”
But I could still smile.
That kind of dry smile, that pulled my lips tight.
Now, at 60, I have wrinkles from that.
Wrinkles which feel like scars.
I have gray hair, that I still play with anxiously.
I go to my favorite cafe.
I order a coffee to go- same as always.
I’m going to the book club, I say.
But really, I’m seeing that new therapist.
As my old one retired…
She’s a pro, they say.
But still it bugs me…
That she’s younger than me.
Angst!
Angst-angst-angst!
Angsty angsty angsty!
GAAAAAAHHHH, angst!
I grieve bloodstains upon your heart
I bleed out red dread of angsty art
Angry as a shark of envy…
Seeking prey viciously
In love with catastrophe
Grief-stricken drastically…
Paint your skies red wine, exceedingly RED
Toiling, vermillion souls fed upon it instead
For my friends in Erie, PA.
If you've found this poem, congratulations. You've just solved my most intricate social puzzle to date. As your reward, you now have access to all my angsty works of "art" (dare I call it that) from my teenage years. You also have all my more recent "I'm bored and alone" poems from the past couple years. You'll notice a steep decline in those, for notable reasons.
Congratulations. Let the roasting begin.
stellar companion
sparkles icily
a narcissistic twinkle
I haven’t wrote to you since you went to war.
In fact much longer before you started that tour.
So I’ve taken pen, whilst you took sword.
But right now I don’t feel it’s all too mighty.
I’m struggling too much to strike a chord.
And I wonder if over there you even thought you liked me.
Remember when we used to play war with sticks and twigs,
For giddy kiddy kicks and gigs?
I fear I may have made that too fun for you.
Cause it was my imagination your enthusiasm used to tire its legs through.
We used to fight a lot and not just for pretend.
Both of us took too long with toys we’d lend.
In our angsty teens we tore the seams.
And we were both too busy trying to be men to learn to sew.
It was your mum who told me you’d enlisted.
It was for the best you always lacked that discipline she insisted.
And I agreed.
It was my mum that told me about the funeral.
Said your mum wanted me to go with her to meet your coffin still.
And I couldn’t.
I’ve been wasting precious holiday
Time tied to the computer screen,
Working at night and during the day
Finishing my essays and writing lean
Poetry for the internet to truly play
With philosophically, an angsty teen
Let loose on the world, but indoors
Where the sun cannot reach me
And my pale skin. Oh marble floors
Will you protect me like a tree
And its branches, from the jaws
Of the blazing light-giver I see
From through my window, what
Is it called, I don’t think I know.
It sits there in the sky, burning hot
While I remain inside. I never go
Out there, I work just like a robot.
But now it is dark and I still sow
The seeds of knowledge in my
Hotel room. I want to leave
My prison, looking like a sty
Again. I just want to breathe
Foreign air; more essays I ply
From my mind, push and heave
And finally escape. Time to live
Life! I open my door and head
For the beach, brain like a sieve,
The heat is nice, a cooling Med
Breeze to which I sigh and give
My vacation soul. Time for bed.
It was so uncomfortable,
The tension: Like two strangers
Just waiting to step on each others toes.
Don't put your face so close to mine
I wouldn't want you
To do me any favors!
It's been almost a week.
I'm getting angsty, I'm getting anxious,
I'm getting frustrated.
I need a cigarette!
Maybe I should listen.
Maybe they're right.
Did I impose myself here?
They couldn't be any further from the truth.
I'm not holding on to anything.
How could I? It was never mine in the first place.
Today I decide and tomorrow I wait.
It's not just another Saturday
No, this one has some weight.
Stupid? Not for long.
Friends? I won't say goodbye.
I wonder how long it will take to realize I'm gone.
I wonder if you'll call.
No apologies
No criticism
Significant abhorrence
Distorted transfiguration
Angsty mornings
Disheavled evenings
Annoyance , frustration , disdain .
Paradoxial inception
Analytical depression
Muffled whispers
Defunct agression
Ultimate paranoia
Unconsciously decisive
Submissive arguments
Disoriented contortion
Twirling whirlwind of suppression
Tumult of words
In finalè
Pure satured composure guided by
motives of predestined animosity
Finally got around to
writing on paper
Actually writing—
seems like forever
My pen flies,
runs away with my chicken scratch
much like a chicken
running away with its head cut off
Better write this…
feeling’s bearing down on me—
just niggling
Ever felt that way?
Like there are 999 fire ants
biting you
They crawl…bite…
just everywhere
and you wish
that you can just die
You wait for that
final fatal bite
--but it never comes
simply because it
needs that 1000th ant
It’s the magic ant
with the final deadly bite
So you are tortured
forever
You keep scratching,
itching, hurting
Never really knowing
where to scratch since
the itch is everywhere
and nowhere at all
Pretty frustrating
and so I just sigh.
Fire ants biting my heart.
*** Wrote this one because of the Ants in my towel plus I was feel angsty O_o
Gosh, that was crazzzzyy! Good thing I felt some of those ants biting me
on my shoulders and arm--then I stared at my towel and aaack,
it made my skin crawl--yeeek!!
Haha had to take a shower again-- *shudder* just thinking about it--
so nope, not for any contest ;)
Of all the things you ever did
all that you regret is your kid
As you slap her with your hand
she wishes she had a real man
As you hit him with the switch
remember your ruling day will be over quick
Cause vengence is an angsty word
but with yo its hardly absurd
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