Don't have an account? Create one!

Well Aren't I A Pretentious Little Twit

AuthorMessage
blow
Bleeding on the Floor
blow
Age: -
Gender: Female
Posts: 1137
July 7th, 2008 at 06:18am
Bonjour!

Read it, love it, hate it, but comment s'il vous plait!

Oui?

Merci beaucoup!

1. How Stupid, But How Normal, After All I Am A Teenage Girl
2. Heart-Shaped Balloons
3. Groove It Up
4. Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall
5. The Herculean Effort
6. A Harsh Appraisal
7. Frank Sinatra and Truth
8. du sens
9. Things that Speak


Poetry Competition Poems:

1. Existential (Tied for first place)
blow
Bleeding on the Floor
blow
Age: -
Gender: Female
Posts: 1137
July 7th, 2008 at 06:22am
1. How Stupid, But How Normal, After All I Am A Teenage Girl

When I'm alone I think;
I think of things I wouldn't dare to say. the things I try to keep at bay.
the things that slink into my mind, like creeping vines they do entwine

I doubt:
do i look good,
do i look bad,
do i look fat,
is this too much,
is that enough,
do people even like me at all?

I think these things when I'm alone.
I face my fears all on my own.
blow
Bleeding on the Floor
blow
Age: -
Gender: Female
Posts: 1137
July 7th, 2008 at 08:01am
2. Heart-Shaped Balloons

heart-shaped balloons, floating in the sky
so many hearts, just floating by
i'll send a note, all truth no lies
and to my heart it will be tied
i'll set it loose to drift up high
one more heart, floating in the sky
blow
Bleeding on the Floor
blow
Age: -
Gender: Female
Posts: 1137
July 7th, 2008 at 08:02am
3. Groove It Up

It's like, step, step, swing and twirl
Shake my hips and skip and whirl
Stop for breathing
Chest is heaving
Spin and stop again
And then...
Step, step, swing, and twirl
Dancing, dancing girl
blow
Bleeding on the Floor
blow
Age: -
Gender: Female
Posts: 1137
July 7th, 2008 at 08:03am
4. Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall

Have you ever heard of mirror twins?
They're said to be complete opposites.
One would be right handed
And the other, writes with his left
But if they where to play a game,
When one twin wins,
Does the other lose?
And if one has his heart on the left side,
Does the other have a heart on his right?
I thought on this for an awful long time
And finally came to a conclusion
One twin has his heart in the center,
and the other?
It's simple
Because he simply doesn't have a heart
blow
Bleeding on the Floor
blow
Age: -
Gender: Female
Posts: 1137
July 7th, 2008 at 09:21am
5. The Herculean Effort

It takes much energy to fire off my neurons,
For they sit in apathy, unused, dulled by many days of laziness.
Sparks burn the cobwebs, the sparks of half-formed thoughts, also burning my brain, setting fire to my contemplations,
and when encountering an idea devouring it like a starved citizen from a third world country.

But because of my brain lethargy the idea is an unborn fetus of thinking and thus it provides no substance to the fire that has by now consumed my wits.
There is too little essence and the electric charged blaze dwindles.
I struggle, my own thoughts, that very fire, are too deeply involved in the vicious circle of my human emotions.

My words are tied down by my sentiments.
My sentiments that act as shackles,
heavy un-rusted lead chains that nail whatever fragments escapes the fire to dirty, earthly, hell.
Like a plane with no fuel,
Or more like a bird,
that possessing the tools with which it can fly, is forever condemned to ground
beating it’s useless wings,
with a pitiful hope that it too, might soar in the sky like all its brothers and sisters.
Having no means to lift themselves, they wallow in the ashes of my intellect.

And so it is with a Herculean effort that I manage to free myself from this existence,
to exercise my gray lump of matter.
Too light a candle there that does not burn, rather I cup my hand around it
and while it’s glow,
it’s illumination recedes it is protected, and my reason, my logic, my is safe from it.
It sputters, as the drafty winds of discontent blow,
unhappy with the new approach, grasping at the last straws of sloth, that the candle,
even in it’s dimness, has scattered.
Once my neurons flicker, and again they spark, not chaotic now
not out of control.
Heaving, with a stitch in the side like the out of shape runner that lags behind,
They begin process, begin to interconnect, speak, and flare.
Reaching at last a state of being that is more aware, that is awake at last.
blow
Bleeding on the Floor
blow
Age: -
Gender: Female
Posts: 1137
July 9th, 2008 at 03:03am
6. A Harsh Appraisal
Brown hair, brown hair.
Blue eyes, blue eyes, brown eyes.
Big chin, slumped shoulders
Short? No. Tall, too tall for a girl.
Not tall enough for a boy.
Big hands, big feet.
Uneven tan, freckles, acne, disgusting.
Façade of confidence, pretense of poise.
Detach the mask:
Nothing
Less than nothing
Unfit for life, not good enough to die
blow
Bleeding on the Floor
blow
Age: -
Gender: Female
Posts: 1137
July 9th, 2008 at 09:35pm
7. Frank Sinatra and Truth

Frank Sinatra is playing at the pool
A companion to the ever never blue
Do-re-me-fa-so-la-te-do, on cue
Quarter notes cutting through
the breath that is licking up the residue
Painting with light, the truer hue
And the masterpiece reflects off prisms of dew

The soul is resonating in the lungs
Reverberating in, and through the young
Syllables that roll of the tongue
Stepping up the ladder rungs
Becoming the anthem of songs unsung
Certainty becomes, idly undone
And the placid rest is among the brokun’

The fossil fuel of the summer is fragmented reality
A wasted spring of genuine vitality
Spent, squandered, substituted with fallacy
Lapsing into a requiem of morality
When the split ends are trimmed with brutality
To be the conventional mentality
That with its perverse attempt, rejects mortality

Return to those lavender, rose petaled days
of raspberry kisses that set fawn eyes ablaze
The gathered band, of steadfast strays
while cares wandered in a corn field maze
They held a revolution of Rutherford B. Hayes
A museum of existence on display,
Captured the attention of everyman and held his gaze.

So salvage the memory of Frank Sinatra playing by the pool
When summerside lives spoke only truth.
blow
Bleeding on the Floor
blow
Age: -
Gender: Female
Posts: 1137
July 12th, 2008 at 11:16am
8. du sens

I am staring at dizzy disco colors.
I am standing on the cracked asphalt of hope.
I am saying the only time was now, now is a relative term.
I am walking from a parched reality into flood waters of delirium.
The breaking waves are petroleum on a beach composed entirely of glass.
I look around and for miles all I see are the breaking waves and the glass beach.
There is no sun in the sky, but a soft feeling reminiscent of daylight seems to caress my senses.
To my right is the sea of oil and to my left is a mist, a mist so thick I am unable to discern anything in it's smothering grip.
I begin to walk, not too the sea and not to the fog, straight forward, walking the border of the two.
I am content to walk this way forever, treading the border of two lands,
but a voice filters through the deadened silence off to the murky left, calling for help.
I stop, I think, I turn to my left and gaze into the deceiving innocence of the milky white haze.
I step into the mist, one step, two steps, four steps, eight steps, the world closes around me, bleached bone white.
I close my eyes.
I open my eyes.
I am staring into dizzy disco colors.
Modern Zero.
Bleeding on the Floor
Modern Zero.
Age: 31
Gender: Female
Posts: 1669
July 13th, 2008 at 03:13am
wow, i really love heart shaped balloons =D

they're all good =)
blow
Bleeding on the Floor
blow
Age: -
Gender: Female
Posts: 1137
July 13th, 2008 at 09:31pm
thank you. : ]
that one was actually inspired by a pretty depressing event....
blow
Bleeding on the Floor
blow
Age: -
Gender: Female
Posts: 1137
July 27th, 2008 at 04:29pm
1. Existential

Content.
I am content.
Insects buzz
Chirrups of crickets, droning bees,
The silky whisper of milk butterflies
A mosquito, slapped away.
A slight breeze brushes my face and brushes my mind
Sun warms my dark skin
Sweat trickling down my back and brow
Heat hangs heavy in the air
But is not humid, rather soothing
Tinkling bells of children’s laughter
Giggles interrupted by snorts, gasps for breath
Lazily, raising chocolate eyes to chocolate eyes
I smile.
She smiles.
We are content.
blow
Bleeding on the Floor
blow
Age: -
Gender: Female
Posts: 1137
July 30th, 2008 at 02:31pm
9. Things that Speak

I see you see me see us see them
I see you see me
If we can believe
If we can stop the grieving, the ringing
in our ears, the smears
of blood, there’s a flood comin’
stop screamin’ and start running’
Before it overtakes you, and makes you
Into something you’re not, it’s whatever that they want
Burn the real you in a haze
And leave our whimsical daydreams to drift in a daze, smothered by an
uncouth haze.
The hypocrisy creates a maze;
winding, weaving, stopping to the left, starting to confuse
we are only stumbling through
Now comes the Metamorphosis, the chrysalis
that stimulizing, arises
Amid the butterflies, disguised,
I am distracted by sunspots in my eyes
All the lies, all those butterflies,
little or big the spell our demise.
But away they float into the sky, disappearing into the sunrise.
Like a spider’s skyrocket they fly
Burning up in the atmosphere
no longer here, nothing to fear.
I breath a sigh.
blow
Bleeding on the Floor
blow
Age: -
Gender: Female
Posts: 1137
September 1st, 2008 at 10:42pm
(number two under poetry competition poems, can't edit my table of contents, hopefully that will change soon)

2. First Tears For Freedom

9 years

9 years old and no sense of self
Not sure she’s alive
Not even sure she exists

470 weeks

7 nights a week, forced to work the streets
Husky voices and smoke choked laughter

3,287 days

Every day is a new hell, new suffering, new pain
Scars upon scars, bruises on bruises, until it doesn’t hurt anymore

78,894 hours

The hours are filled with silence
The only thing she can think of is the hunger in her belly
and the hunger in her heart.
Forget what you see, forget what you feel, that’s the only way to survive

4,733,640 minutes

Respite is sparse, minutes or less
Minutes only, but the dearest, most treasured moments.
Then back to a corner, bare feet on blackened concrete
Payments paid with her body, and no hope for freedom
The first tears where for the freedom,
the last tears where for the end.
blow
Bleeding on the Floor
blow
Age: -
Gender: Female
Posts: 1137
September 3rd, 2008 at 09:00pm
(number three under poetry competition poems)

3. The Sweetest Gold is Bronze

They said we couldn’t
One out, two out
A slapdash team of alternates and barely made its
Tossed aside and tossed away
Adding injury to insult, twisted tendons spelled the end

“Not yet, don’t count us out yet.”

“No chance, no way, not with those greenhorns.”

“We won’t stop trying, don’t you count us out yet.”

Falls and fumbles, but we’re trying, don’t give up hope.

"Keep watching, you’ll see, we will do this."

And we did.
15.35
Sasha’s saving grace
Now we’re slaphappy high
Intoxicated by the sweetest of all nectars
Our ambrosia is victory with the taste of we told you so

They said we couldn’t
We said we can.
We said we will.
We did.
mychemicalromance91
Killjoy
mychemicalromance91
Age: 32
Gender: Female
Posts: 82
September 4th, 2008 at 01:12am
omfg i loved them all but my fav would be heart-shaped balloons i dont know y though it just is. they are all beautifully writen but you do have some typos. thats all im saying oh and 1 more thing dont stop writing poems your really good at it
blow
Bleeding on the Floor
blow
Age: -
Gender: Female
Posts: 1137
September 5th, 2008 at 04:18pm
mychemicalromance91:
omfg i loved them all but my fav would be heart-shaped balloons i dont know y though it just is. they are all beautifully writen but you do have some typos. thats all im saying oh and 1 more thing dont stop writing poems your really good at it

Thank you! That one's my favorite too.
Typos?!
Darn, too bad I can't edit most of my poems, the posts are too old.
blow
Bleeding on the Floor
blow
Age: -
Gender: Female
Posts: 1137
September 9th, 2008 at 10:49pm
(under regular poems)

10. The Man is the Law

Control, control
You don't care.
Well no one cares that you don't care.
Smoke it up, shoot it up, snort it up .
Kick down the door, kick down your life.
Soon they'll be kickin' down your door.
Soon they'll be taken you away.
Say goodbye to the pipe.
Say goodbye to the needle.
Say goodbye to the powder.
The Man is the Law.
And the Law is unbendable.
The Law is unrelenting.
The Law will kick your fucking ass
It will leave you bleeding and crying
It will break your body, it will break your spirit
It will break you.
I forget though, you don't care
Well I don't care that you don't care.
So smoke it up, shoot it up, snort it up.
But rest assured, they are commin' for you.
tiny-t
Killjoy
tiny-t
Age: 31
Gender: Female
Posts: 80
September 11th, 2008 at 09:54am
wow! love love love your poems! your really good!
I reaiiy like mirror mirror, on the wall. loved it!
blow
Bleeding on the Floor
blow
Age: -
Gender: Female
Posts: 1137
September 20th, 2008 at 08:51pm
(under regular poems)
11. No-name Poem No. 1

I’m trying to play it cool
Abandoning conventional rules
Doubled personalities that make me the fool
Trying to deal with the duality of reality
The thing is my mortality has ended up being my vitality
And inside my mentality there’s an abnormality.
This is a formula for fatality.
I would say it’s just a formality
but in actuality,
I’ve got to say this is a quite serious situation
This fakeness is my temptation
I know I’m laying a faulty foundation as compensation.
For what I lack
is the willpower to take off my mask
I’m traveling on a one-way track
To consumed to admit it
To hooked to kick the habit
This façade that I’ve become has become my casket