I walk down an old street
the midnight sky in constant movement
soft wind blows in my ears
as my eyes meet the gaze of a huge tree
a fir tree of some sort
large, plump and billowy with green needles
from far away it would seem short and stout
from up close it touched the moon
every cloud of needles waved
bowed
swayed
i stared at the mighty dance before me
when one round branch moved
the one next to it moved the other way
and the next went a 3rd way
all across this huge beautiful tree
the ghost that caused the tree to waltz
blew the overwhelming peace softly into my heart
as my eyes stared
total hypnotizing euphoria
element of air merged with element of earth
dancing under moon and street-lights
as i walked home
i took several long detours
to continue to feel the night
to evoke the memories
that each street had given to me
of past events
past friends
past loves
and to search for more huge trees
being lovingly embraced by the wind
Grapes to Wine
DancingCrushing
Squirting
Dying deep red
Giving their flavor
Lifting her dress from the mess
Exposing her sweetest features
Barefeet of the beautiful maiden
Dyed deep red and purple
to be a grape kissing her soles
bathing the naked skin with my essence
the sweet grape necter between her once clean, white toes
Purple like the grapes they squished
Lucky, am i,
for i get to clean up the delicious, purple mess...
Faeries, Humans and Elves
Dancing about her bodythe feel of their tiny toes
dancing across her nose
jumping across her face
her eyes
her lips
They scatter across her body
tickling her knees
and the hair under her arms
walking the lines of her rich,
ample,
belly
zigzagging through her toes
licking the essence of the earth from her soles
Her feet wet with the dew of her morning sleep
tickled by the flutter of wings
They all gather on her chest
tickling her chilled breast
warming her body
They dance downward
Playful in the hair ... they enter her
They make love between each other
inside the warmth of the inside
They make love with themselves and leave their nector there
Her dreams of pure ecstatic colors
until they flee from the dewy warmth
And that is how an Elf is born
Kill Off The Cardboard -- Co-Written by Ashley Dunne
(Verses: Sung lightly like a child's song with soft, happy, children's music)
Button shaped handles
On the drawer of the future
Constantly tugged on by curious little boys
Floating in the ocean - wading,Waiting
for escape from the past.
(Pause)
(Choruses: heavy metal guitars, sung with deep monstery voice, each syllable sung to the beat of the drum and heavy guitar strokes about 3 times per second)
Gremlin scratch eye bleed
Leprechaun candy
We eat from the hand of the ghost with the crown
Snacking on children we play for the masses
Bend over garbage to meet your reward.
(Verse)
Old school shine records
With heart shaped little holes
Punctured and bruised we climb to the top
When nothing is found we just turn our heads
Face to face with naysayer’s glee
(Chorus)
Gremlin scratch eye bleed
Leprechaun candy
We eat from the hand of the ghost with the crown
Snacking on children we play for the masses
Bend over garbage to meet your reward.
Bend over garbage to feed on the poor.
That's Ok, You got a Homie!
He's so big
He's so strong
He wears his baseball cap backwards
that makes you so hot, doesn't it?
With his shiny
baggy
striped tracksuit
(striped, or with a little rounded checkmark)
That makes you want him, doesn't it?
He talks about his rap music as if he is
that damned shakur guy
You want him so bad, don't you?
He tells you You're Fly, whatever that means ...
You want this guy, such a rebellious teen
So rebellious that he rebels by trying to fit in
You are so turned on.
Black? White? Red? Yellow? Does it matter?
Not really. As long as he's "raising da roof"
You're burning for him
So he hits you.
But that's ok, cuz you now have him
You have a homie!
He hits you again.
But is your pain more important than your pride?
Not to you, i guess.
Cuz you got a homie!
Congratulations, you've fallen into a cliche
Such a rebellious teen.
Block J
Why can't i tell you?
Why must i keep it inside?
I don't let me, that's why.
So very suppressing
How i wish to tell you
How i feel about you
To delicately take your face in my hands
To slightly pull your soft lips to mine
and kiss you sweetly
I would finally feel the joy
that i've been longing for
But will it be forever joy?
Would you accept with loving graces?
or would you run away?
That's what i'm afraid of ...
Bully
Bully was small
Bully is new in town
Bully is pushy
Bully came and took our stuff
Bully beats up entire groups of us
Bully beats up boys who act feminine for no reason
Bully beats up even his own people
Bully is very jealous
Bully tries to make everyone into him
Bully is now bigger than us
Bully is not called Bully anymore
Now they just call him God.
Killer Sperm
The shaft
Gets pumped
And then
You reach the moment
The right trigger
Gets pushed
Sending a screaming pulse
Of a single Killer Sperm
Creating a cowardly,
Bloody, lead hole
Into the chest
Of a hated one
Am I?
Am I gay? Am I straight?
Am I bisexual? Am I not?
Am I a transvestite? Am I a beastialist?
Am I a pedophile? Am I a necrophiliac?
Am I white? Am I blue?
Am I me? Am I you?
None of it will matter
When I die.
The Perfect Date
Dangling her feet in the water
Twiddling her toes
Causing ripples
The reflection of colors
Red, blue, yellow, green
Lots of green
Poured all around her
In the small pond
At the center of the thriving forest
Tall green trees and
Countless colors of flowers
And sleeping animals
Calmed by the overwhelming peacefulness
Of the small area
Wearing nothing but her hair
She falls asleep by the pond
Awakening in the dewy morning
In the center of a huge circle of
Animals and
Flowers
She sees me
Calls me to her
In no language at all
I remove my clothes
And we lay back
Holding only our hands
Staring at the changing clouds
Dangling our feet in the water
Twiddling our toes...
The Lone Hammer
The hammer hits the wall
The wall does not fall
For seven layers thick
It is built with brick
But alas, there was a flaw
And the hammer stared in awe
The mortar was gone
It was lying on the lawn
Waiting to be used
Leaving the wall reduced
So the hammer turned around
And leaped a great bound
Placing its fork in the cracks
The bricks wedged out from the attacks
Then slowly the wall deteriorated
And was finally obliterated.
What violence couldn’t do
Knowledge prevailed
strong and true.
Bloody Rivers
The television blares
The face of some old man
And a backdrop of yellow behind
Just a normal old man
Speaking endlessly
Causing a headache in my mind
The ears of the old man
Sprout wings, white and feath’ry
And the TV is no more
The old man stands tall against the yellow desert
With sandy mountains on the horizon
And the TV is no more
Tiny rivers of red
Break his brittle skin
And blood pours out all o’er
Each limb, his face and torso
All covered with broken rivers
They seemed to pour and pour and pour
Falling to his knees
He clutches his throat
The blood is now mud
His skin is now dirt
His head with winged ears
grows a point at the bald top
the dirt begins to dry
and crumbles to the ground in a lump
A dove flies pure and true from the rubble
But, alas, under the feathers
The dove bleeds from broken-skin, blood rivers
A Happy Little Town
He woke up
in a place he hadn't been.
He was in a place
completely void of sin.
It was a happy little town
with happy little hills
where happy little people
walked happy little dogs
as happy little cars
puttered down happy little roads
blocked by the happy little boundaries
turned back by happy little law enforcers.
In each happy little house
you could hear the happy little sound
of a happy little man
pointing his happy little gun
at his happy little head.
House Pet
A mother
A father
and 2.2 children
are fed to its eye
each day
per house.
It consumes
by teaching consumption.
It tells us what to do
how to do it
and when.
It tells us what to eat
What to wear
What to buy.
It tells us who to love
Who to hate
Who to destroy.
Watching us as it does so
We often end up
being displayed by it
to merchants.
It orders us around
but the majority of us
never wonder why ...
(Guess what it is ........ if you want to check to see if your guess is right, go HERE)
Gangsta Rap Song
(I do not condone any of the actions portrayed in this poem ... it was simply written to insult the stupidity of popular rap)
Yo yo yo gonna rap you a song
Gonna slap my bitches all day long
Muthafucka is a foo
Gonna pump a cap in his ass till he's black and blue
I'm white but i like saying "niggah"
Cuz each rapper just makes the word biggah
We rape for crack
And we take lotsa smack
We'd sell all our friends for a Nike knick-knack
Foo!
I have no brains that's why I rap
All I can do is bust a cap
I hold my gun sideways foo
So i just gotta be coo, foo!
I live in da hood
I see my bitch and get a wood
And say, "Yo, bitch, get in my kitchen,
Cuz i'm itchin'
to rape you bitch!
Yeh Yeh, we're all superficial
you gotta be in da trend
or we shoot you and yo' friends
Praise the Lord cuz we allways follow his rules
and we kill everyone who believes in themselves
foo's
I'll end this pathetic display right and fair
So y'all put cha hands up in da air
like ya'll just don't care
and say yeh
Foo!
(Before you yell at me, let me say that I am fully aware that rappers don't comprehend words like "superficial," or "display," so don't bother pointing that out ...)
Country Western Ditty
Ah wear mah cowboy hat
Ah wear mah tightest bluejeans
Ah wear mah puffy white blouse-like shirt
Ah wear mah fancy boots
And ah sing about mah truck
cuz mah wife jest don't turn me on
Ah am not some queer-ass panty-waste
Jest be-coz some o' the boys come over
to my house for long nights o' liquor
Don't mean ah'm homy-sexual
But ah sing about mah truck
Cuz the wimin jest don't turn me on
Mah tight-ass blue jeans
leave nothin' to th'imagination
I spank my boys fer lookin' at nudy mags
jest fer the habit o' masturbation
Teachin' them ta sing about their trucks
Because the woman-folk shan't turn'em on!
Hoo-ey! We ain't gay!
Hoo-ey! We like men- d'I mean Trucks
Hoo-ey! We sing about our trucks
cuz them females jest don't turn us all on!
Typical Goth Song
Oh death
surround me
fill me with the blackness that envelops my dying soul for the blood of thousands may lay awake to scream in agony
agony
agony ....
all is silent as you
use your violence to suffocate me in your blackness ... oh blackness
blackness ....
oh my goth
we are dying in your black depression
please wake me from my nightnares
release me from my demons
oh goth
goth
oh goth...
Deliver me from your cold darkness
remove this blanket of shame from my hide
i do not deserve to live in happiness
for Goth is my middle name ...
Goth
Goth Goth
Goth Goth Goth
Goth ...
Please let me think no more of this retched world ...
Tear my hear- Oh ... you mean all i have to do is to just stop being depressed and i won't be depressed anymore? You mean, it was just all in my head the whole time? Gee, thanks for telling me! Wow, that actually worked!
I think i'll go pick the brightest flower i can find!!
Flat Alternative Song Circa 90s-00s
I sing, but i'm ugly
I just sing to get the chicks
i could be physically ugly as anyone can be
But since i sing, i get the chicks
I write lyrics that
are as originl as
the guy who wrote them
on the album my band imitates
In fact,
we all copy each other
can you tell who one of us is?
compared to another one of us?
My guitarist plays boring chords
Always a strum
Never a variation
never a change
My face is plastered all over
your TV screen
My music videos are boring
but i sing
i get chicks
Dave Matthew Good Band
Eve Treble 6 Charger
20 Oasis Matchbox
Does it matter?
We're all identical
We could play actual Music
Like the Tea Party
Radiohead
or even Pink Floyd
We choose to blend in
We choose to get brainless chicks
By pretending to sing with emotion
It always gets'em
Seven Days - By Gary Dunford (this poem rules)
in the beginning,
man created the mudhole and the marsh
damming the streams for viaducts
and routing waters for his own benifit
trickling through makeshift reed piping
splashing clean into clay bowls
bubbling to do man's bidding
and it was the morning and the evening of the first day
and the seagulls were dying
on the second day,
man created the slaughterhouse and the zoo
and the wild animals of the earth
which had wandered at will across the planet
watched man from behind wire mesh
scruffy lions with sad faces
and elephants, their bottoms calloused from sitting on cement
and it was the morning and the evening of the second day
and the seagulls were dying
on the third day,
the buffalo disappeared, simply disappeared.
and across the pampas
safaris, $495 per person, sought out exotic creatures
to mount in rec rooms or multiply in cages
and the ice floes ran red
and the monkeys reeled in terror
and it was the morning and the evening of the third day
and the seagulls were dying
on the forth day,
man created the sewer and the sump
and pumps to pipe sewer to sump and sump to sewer at incredible
cost
to nose and pocket
and the pumps pumped
and the sumps drained
and the sewers flowed
into the creeks and lakes
and every drop of sewage makes
an ocean spreading across the world
the universal garbage apocalypse
and it was the morning and the evening of the forth day
and the seagulls were dying
on the fifth day,
man created and canned atomic wastes
and made up the word "megaton"
packing the wastes in rusty old drums and concrete caissons
cramming biological uglies into old trains
that run on undetermined schedules
across the landscape
and somewhere, sunken tanks of arsenic
are cloaked in barnacles
and rust slowly in salt water
and now and then, on october afternoons
underground explosions occur
and smiling spokesmen describe them as necessary and safe
while desert floors collapse
and islands tremble
and the smiling spokeman says
the san andreas fault
remains faultless
and it is the morning and the evening of the fifth day
and the seagulls were dying
on the sixth day,
man created the additive
which differed in name, but never in purpose
and was gleefully installed in cereal and fertilizers
soft drinks and cookies
field and bug sprays
creams and cosmetics
it was added to everything man ate or drank
was added to smokestacks
ans sewage
and lakes
and eventually,
even the additives had additives
and counter-antidotes to combat the counter-pollutants
and even the experts gave up explaining
exactly what the additives were to accomplish
and it was the moring and the evening of the sixth day
and the seagulls were dying
on the seventh day,
there was quiet all over the earth
except for the lapping of waves
and the bubbling of storm drains
and the seagulls were dying
and the plankton
and the oceans
and the atmosphere
and the trees were dying
and man
rested
The Little Boy's Only Fear
Your disfigured head, dangling on stretched, coiled neck
beeping at me, controlling me, huddling me beneath the table
upon which your awkward body rests, haunting me with your every word
in your language so foreign
and so familiar at once
setting off my long dormant Fear, displaying to me that i do indeed fear
fear that your beepings would kill me,
fear for that if i were to rest your ugly head upon your sleak, black shoulders
you'd bark orders, in my own tongue, that i am wrong, reciting later some things
i'd just learned about for future need, to understand the likes of you
and many other monstrocities that would rob my childhood of innocense,
condemning me to your maker's "kingdom" so unnatural,
gripping me in your claws, surrounding me in your jaws, you swallow ...
This is the picture i drew before i even wrote the poem, as well as the original version of this poem:
Apathetic Hate - By Larry Portelance, My Friend
When you believe in god
You are a pea in a pod
You can't see the outside world
Your process of thought is whirled
You cannot think for yourself
You leave your brain on a shelf
Forget science, logic or thought
Their priest says its all a pile of snot
So start kissing his god's fat ass
Or else you and your ass are grass
Uh-Oh, the priest has had you shot
So much for independant thought!
Blue Eyes are Bluer when they Cry
Haven’t you noticed
That when tears stream down
From bright blue eyes
The blue gets bluer?
The sadness creates
A more beautiful exterior
With beautiful, bright, blue eyes
And sympathy will follow. Happiness creates another
Set of beautiful eyes
Gleaming in the sun
Tear rivers down the cheek
Maybe it’s nature’s way
Of gaining an attacker’s sympathy
To ward him off
Hoping he has a heart
But most don’t
So the eyes will just get bluer and bluer...
How do you rate Music?
How do you rate music? Do you judge by sound?
Do you judge by musical talent?
Poetic message?
What is the true way?
What is the noble way?
Do you judge a combination?
Do you judge only a single aspect?
How?
"Oh he plays well," or
"Oh he sings well," or
"Oh she writes well," or
"Oh she has a good point."
I want to know
I want to know how to rate
I want to know how YOU rate
I want to know what is a noble rating
Compared to a shallow one
Do you rate the band on looks?
Truly shallow
But evident in us all
It is evident in you and me, us and them
Do you rate its romanticity?
Do you rate its power?
Do you rate its loudness?
Do you rate its noise?
Do you rate its harmony?
Do you rate familiarity to your own life?
Is message more noble than sound?
Is sound more noble than message?
How do YOU rate music?
Sheltered
The vast fields of lost
The grim eyes of death stare
Leaving out no target
We hate therefore we are hated
Lust fills our souls
The drunk lose their trust
The mind consumes us all
And in the end we all lose
Sex, drugs, violence and the ever-condemning hate
I eat the grass
"Be free!"
And conclude with subtlety
I break the ties and
Kill the lies
Smothering our useless
Exploiting our useful
God helps not, but Continues to enforce obedience
Self frees us, councels us
Lets us discover our weaknesses and strength
I hate the shelter
I break the walls
Untitled #1
You smoke, you drink
You play lots of gin
You have no idea
How I've been
Why you hate me
I don't know
I don't care
I won't go
A shell breaks
Shards of glass
Puncturing me
but Healing fast
Yellow gulls
Flock above
Wiped away
With rubber glove
Killing my sweet
They look so grey
I have no one but
Myself to pray
They smite
the smoten
And burn
the rotten
With time to go
and people to kill
They will never break
our determined will
Autumn Moon
We sat far from a churchWhile exhaust-blowing beasts entered for their beginningless search
We sat under a great big tree
Yellow leaves fell around me
Like the broken bits of heaven
Out of the air I snatched one more than seven
Staring at the moon in daylight's skies
Letting its beauty enter our eyes
White ball hanging with no ties
Right above the house of lies
"How rare it is to touch the Earth,"said my brother
"There's cement, gravel, but rarely dirt."
Huge masses of leaves piled around
As the cars spew their Godly Airs onto the ground
I feel alive running and catching airborne leaves
As churchgoers sleep, learning their Adam's and Eve's
Down from the daylight moon, shone a beamBlinding us by its unlimited gleam
Earlier that day we drew a barrier from the church
To protect us from its unearthly powers
From the great beam explosions flowered
And we were protected from the great Moon Shower
Earth, glorious Earth, spread before us as the beam dimmedReplacing the church with Earth as we had whimmed
We looked around, the lies were dead
Our work had been done
"Let's go," my brother said.
(NOTE: Some people may be wondering, "Why would the Godly Airs (exhaust from the cars of the Church goers) blow onto the ground?" Well, i was trying to emphasize that the leaves that had fallen onto the ground were having exhaust blown onto them ... exhaust pipes do point downward, you know ...)
Myself
Myself is mine Myself is yours
Myself is my self.
Myself is evil Myself is live
Myself is a freak.
Myself is mind Myself is young
Myself is Satan.
Myself is eternally explaining Myself is Love
Myself eats fantasy.
Myself is summed Myself hears my thoughts
Myself is stably unstable.
Myself is emotion Myself is Hell
Myself is FFF.
The Truth of Self Belief
I sleep
I dream
I'm in light
I'm in gleam
contentment.
I'm being dragged into darkness
Dragged into hell
Blindness devours me
Blackness begins to swell
damned.
I awaken
On a bench
In a foreign building
Then I wretch
realization.
I'm in a church
Thinking, "This is swell"
A damned church
Of all, the GREATEST hell
puzzled.
Why the hell am I here?
I remember, now
I was deceived
My soul sold for the milk of a cow
Temporary happiness is theirs.
noises.
The ramblings of a man
An uneducated old man
Facts he knows not
But spew fiction he can
preacher.
I stand up and storm out
I was very disgusted
The lives of all these people
Given to a ficticious god they've trusted
disgusting.
Why rely on a deity?
Why do they waste all their time?
Believe in yourself
Your life will be more sublime.
enlightenment.
I believe in myself
All my time is mine
I believe in no simple god
I am my own divine
Urbistan.
The name that is given
To the truth of self belief
No holy spirit
Will ever give you this type of relief
Urbistan.
Dread
The lies they spread
Of the ones they dread
The hate they dread
is The hate they spread
Take away our bread
Giving to the dead
Filling in their head
Are the lies they spread
"Their blood is not red" Some lies they spread
About the ones they dread
WE are the ones they DREAD!
Christian, Homie, Football Player Wanna Beat me Up?
Axe crunching
Saw munching
Into your crippled body
Crippled by hammers
The floor is quite bloody
THUMP!
THUMP!
THUMP!
The sound of a bloody stump
Pumelling every surface of you
But what bloody stump is this?
'Tis the arm I ripped from you!
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
It's your face I smak
With your own hand. SMAK!
So don't gimme no flack
or I'll WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
I laugh, "HA HAH!"
at your dismay
Toss you in the hay
Leave you many a-night and day
Still think you're tough?
Still think you're mean?
You're the worst mess I've ever seen!!
I spit on your carcass
Then read some "Farcus"
But it's replaced with "Herman"
which reminds me of "Mormon"
which reminds me of "christian"
So I kick you HARD
All over the yard!
Still alive
I tie you in the shed
Where the bugs will eat you
till you're DEAD!
"When walking in open territory, bother no one. If someone bothers you, ask him to stop. If he does not stop, DESTROY HIM!!!"
YOU DID NOT STOP!
Hungry Duckling
(I wrote this while I was feeding my dog)
He is my hungry duckling
And he has a jar of clay
All of the live-long day
He carries around his jar of clay
I love my hungry duckling
And I would like to say
Here you go, my Hungry Duckling
And I hope you have a good day, OK!
(I was feeling weird!)
Take christianity if you would ...
Take christianity
If you would:
Shitting on our heads
Would do as much good
You'd like to deterge your community
For we are "wrong"
While you sit and pray
and "sing" many a-christian "song"
I listen to Pantera and White Zombie
KMFDM and Korn
From your society
You want us all torn
For you know we know truth
You just cannot accept it
You fear and fight
Eventually running from it
You claim to love us
And how do you show?
With raping and burning
Making OUR fires GROW !!
Soon we'll flex our muscles
Your tails between your legs
We will free the world
From christ's almighty dregs
We have come
To heal Earth's wounds
Sending christ
To their awaiting tombs
Waiting
Go out, live, be naughty!
or Sit, pray, and be rotting
Life is for being alive
Do not continue to deprive
You are God of your own world
YOU dodge the obstacles that YOU are hurled!
Never before has there been such an oppressive religion
Which makes me glad I reached my decision
Life is Life
Death is Death
Boredom is Waiting
-The end-
The M-Pyre: The World of Unpublished Daydreams
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