Ramblings

This doesn't make sense, and isn't supposed to. I guess I thought I was being clever when I wrote it.. if you really think quite hard when you read it the lines go into each other abstractedly (ie: a place I don't exist, a fresh fruit dairy on the stars - I certainly don't recall existing in such a place), but this isn't the case with all of it. In fact, scrap that, it doesn't make any sense in any part. Enjoy.


And presently I found myself in a place I don't exist
A fresh fruit dairy on the stars where all the men are sticks.
A woman formed of nothingness complains about her weight
And nearby pregnant willow trees are ready to dilate.
If a blade of grass should pass I'll call each its own name
For I'm no longer me myself to invite to the game.
Chance is dealt and choice is rolled within the walls of thieves
While just next door across the town the world begins to weep.
I wandered on through fields of wood to foil the paper chase
How little could I do for then my eyes were laid to waste.
Organs come and organs go in body church and grave
So bow down to the universe and it shall be your slave.

Thats really cool man!

I wish I could write like that, with hidden meaning and stuff.

Quote:

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Organs come and organs go in body church and grave
So bow down to the universe and it shall be your slave.

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Thats an amazing line.

Oo, lovely poem. I too like the last line, it's a really good finish up line, keep up the great work.

waah, i want to be able to write like u

Thanks guys, much appreciated ^_^ I've written a second part for it but I don't think it's anywhere near as good so I left it out, might put it in again if I change some bits around.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by FlyingJesus

Thanks guys, much appreciated ^_^ I've written a second part for it but I don't think it's anywhere near as good so I left it out, might put it in again if I change some bits around.

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Old folks used to say, you never know until you try, the outcomes may be surprising.

Surprisingly bad perhaps haha, but here goes:

The stars do shine a posthumous black amongst the bright night sky
When the heavens open up you shall see where daemons live to die.
And so it was I travelled on so backwards in my step
And though I moved not vertically my path was built on depth.
I passed the mountain made of gas and drank the solid stream
And screamed into the eyes of spiders to wake them from my dream.
By admission of my serf my senses had become aroused
And yet my mistress hath become the Master of the house.
A rock and brick beat log and stick where arson is the law
So burn your eyes out and you'll see my ceiling is thy floor.
A new perspective fuels the blind to only see in blood
For did you not know little one? That all men kill what they have loved.