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Jake Brunton Poem
With impatience, we leave
for a broader world covered in gloom
With imprudence, we deliver ourselves
Into a brand new darkness
With grace, we thrive
And embrace the bleak future of our lives
It's just how the society works, I guess
I've tried many times to theorize why we are
And why we hate all
I've tried many times to love
Only to be met with violence
Oh, dear society please keep it up
Maybe if I shout high enough
I will be understood
Maybe if I cursed loud enough
You'd hear me out
I'm just a pitiful error;
Unfit for modern society's perfect biology.
With anger, we delve down
Into a bloody hell that everyone seems to love
With anguish, we march to the tone
The tone to injure ourselves to
With perfection, we love
And I hate you
It's just how the society works, I guess
I've learned that all of us are fake pieces of rubbish;
I've learned we're all littering a beauty that we rape slowly, surely
Oh, dear society please keep it up
Maybe if I hurt immensely,
I can inflict these wounds onto you as well
Maybe if I leap down the concrete tundra,
I can make it rain acid on your precious face
We're all pitiful errors;
we're all perfect for one another
Screw your creations, beast
Screw your ideals
Society, please glue my shattered pieces
Into your deviated masterpiece
I hate you...
Maybe if I die slow enough,
I can enjoy the burning of it all
Maybe if my corpse mocks well enough,
I can stir tears in your toilet eyes
Pitiful error;
that's all we ever were.
Copyright © Jake Brunton | Year Posted 2017
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Jake Brunton Poem
The endless page is a story of meaning
that she has so excellently sewn
The endless sentence is but a fire
that she has so excellently extinguished
and she mixes quill and ink.
Among the morning dew is when I had to leave
because of her unconscious fallacy
And she may not realize it yet
that it troubled me so
She writes the endless page,
with endless words.
I who lives one-thousand miles away from love
I who has decided to drain himself of rationality
am announced upon a letter from the post master
and I who is shamefully evil
entail the details;
the endless page.
"My Dear love,
to whose actions I cannot express
why am I such a deceit to you?
The deceit to which you left little explanation
the girl to which you killed with burning ambition
Why do you fare with my heart
why must you treat it like a poppet?
"My Dear love,
I'm forever sorry for never detailing
just how much I love you
And the pain to see you everyday
just reminds me of the darkness;
my dear love
I'm in the ground now,
as you read this endless page."
Copyright © Jake Brunton | Year Posted 2017
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Jake Brunton Poem
Spiteful loving madam
You undress to your velvet-soft skin
The catering butler,
you let me in
The limbs spread so graciously
you allow me to observe
The breathing pink flower
that you have reserved
With which we've been since children
but now you're fully grown
The soft droplets of sweat~
you now ensue a moan
Our moisture was a steam
your skin delicate, soft, and sweet
Ripping through your seam;
loving is a romantic treat
The pleasure simply erratic
Our hearts thud and boom
The pulse and pleasure ecstatic
and the seed goes in the womb
The impregnation; the towns folk discovered
Now the high court calls to rue;
to extract a princess' lover
and dispel me to doom
In the shade of the night
she whispers goodbye;
One last kiss with soft pink lips
And I leave to die
A butler; servant
and a princess so fair
Her chastity stripped from him
brought townsfolk to despair
Doctrine of a high king
the vanguard looks on
For the servant of "cruel" deeds;
the hunt is wide and long
Found me in the morning;
my organs bashed in mud
The leftovers to be exemplary candy;
in the uka of blood.
Copyright © Jake Brunton | Year Posted 2017
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Details |
Jake Brunton Poem
There's a blood-stained tatami house
and it rest peacefully near the cherry blossoms and pond
It has an ancient roof that aims for heaven
and a foundation built in hell
There's a small child in the house
and he sits alone with his welts and wounds
The room has a rather unique smell;
presumably rotten veggies
There's a breeze blowing the cherry blossoms
and near it lies a box
Ever so neatly tucked away in the trunk;
a knife and a rope
There's a beautiful pond shimmering
and in it lies the bodies
Carelessly tossed in;
the boy pushes me in as well.
Copyright © Jake Brunton | Year Posted 2017
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