Thread: adidas on the dead and timeless

on her way home she broke her arm, this was fitting she thought. now she got to get a cast. in the waiting room she saw a fishtank then an iguana and magazines , it must have been a bad combination because now she felt like breaking windows . in the doctors office she waited forever the doctor was realy nice, then she took a strobe light out cause it was bothering her eyes. then she wrote this poem as a belated birthday preasent to her mother ___"i just want to eat my makeup/ every time i see the doctor/ when the trees make autumn red/ i am glad that summer is over/ liloc bushes in the mall. ....then she went to the mall actually , and bought herself a tommy hilfiger shirt and decided that she hated her poem. with a broken arm the whole world looks different the doctor looked gay and then he looked normal. she felt bad about being so negative instead of pretty but wtf. it was a horrible day. then she went to herbergers to steal her mom some perfume.

she was a interior designer. in one room of the house the carpets were the most beutifull green , the top floor was guarded by her puppys they were in charge of that whole floor. the cat didnt have a floor but could do whatever he wanted . he spent alot of the time learning about interior design , and would sometimes host parties. the third floor was the cleanest and there was a pool table in the attic. when ever it would rain storm everyone would color in coloring books. cat wrote his name on his coloring book and had several pictures framed.

journal: today at the mall i saw some raver kid breakdancing at first i thought gay but then i saw his girlfriend was realy pretty. she had a purple bra strap and a black tommy hoodie. fuck i was so sad and jealous. so i wished them good luck and went to stand over by the pepsi machiene . nothing was happening so i sat down and rolld some cigarettes. i thought i saw a fight down by the verizon stand so i ran down there but it was actually just a line for pumpkin photos. everyone was ignoring me so i went to the food court to write some poetry , my pen was busted so i just freestyld in me head, it was pretty bad. then i thought that maybe the love of my life was in the christmas ornament shop picking out ornaments, i was so excited but by the time i was there i realized she wasnt. i went in anyway and looked around for awhile because i didnt want to go home.

ships are struck by bolts of lightning /lighthouses are beutifull/ pull the dagger out my head/ all my blood will get on you. now shes craazy/ now shes dead/ now shes crazy now shes dead/ driving a car super fast down an alley and the kid i just ran over was me thank god i didnt hit that cat cause its almost halloween and his paws are all dusty from that pumpkin patch /black cat/ black cat/ driving down the alley cause my teeth are caveties my shirt is tommy hill my girls got a gun and im out of it/

put the lilocs in the mail and somehow get better/ put koolaid in a vault for when koolaid is gone / i need fifteen minutes so set the fucking timer / and if im not there somthing must have gone wrong/ / i got the wrong tattoos and there still not blacked over / and i havent had a perfect easter / and the skatepark is closed / and i lost 20th century., in the skatepark by my house.

molly was so sick she didnt know what to do / and writing a journal was not helping matters, she was on the wrong level , except for that her dog was here . she couldnt remember eating a poison apple but she thought that drugs probly made her life worse/ she didnt want to sea triangles/ ever again. she felt wonderfull at the waterpark last summer but couldnt imagine ever feeling that way again, for many reasons. still she had some hope left.

it was cats turn to go grocery shopping. he returned with all pop-tarts. no one in the house new why cat did that ,and no one was dissapointed. after lunch cat went outside to sit on top of the fence. nearly an hour went buy and cat had an idea . cat was going to dye his paws blue, and no-one could stop him. . when everyone got back from the beach they saw a big bowl of blue dye on the floor and cat sitting on top of the couch staring at it. then cat jumped down and told everyone that it was permenent blue die, and that he was going to dip his paws in. everyone thought it was a cool idea, so cat did it.

adidas on the dead and timeless/ shades of red and black white dresses / rooms with drapes/ and mahogony/ in the way it was supposed to be/ with an attic for the rainstorm/ full of plastic flowers and squares of colored carpet / boxes full of things that belong together/ and gold necklaces to restore health/telescopes and sleeping bags/ shirts with crests/ a time to practice caligrophy/ and learn facts for conversation/a droor full of fountain pens/ remote control cars/ waiting for things to get better/ in a place that lasts forever/

I'm not sure what's going on here.

It's a poem and the slashes are part of the format, I am pretty sure. If I am correct they indicate when the poem is shifting to a narrative voice and when it changes back into not a narrative voice.

hello everyone thanks for the replies. i appologize for my spelling in advance. the following is a new poem, and if you happen to be able to read through it please leave a comment. ok heres the poem. -------its titled------- THE ARCHETECTURE OF FRANK LOYD WRIGHT/ all white rooms/ constructable constructable/ in the hands of modern architecture/ and every other future thought/ looking back and seeing new/ its so old though its from the past/ like a reindeer / like construction/ like a raison on a button/ in the forrest right before the frost/ is/ is when/ the colors are needed/ for the blue room / when its finished

adidas on the dead and timeless/ repetition reps me blindless/ off a cave off a cavern/ in a haunted twisted tavern/ cursed to hear through conversation/ cold applause lest i wake up dead/ for the statue of the deaparted / for the courtyard /brokenhearted/rept in madness/ rept in blindness/ masachussets/ dead and timeless

in a state of pure confusion/ rushed by forces within nature/ hurryd away in silent dissorder/ clear as night cold as night/ pulled back down to earth like water/ in a state of pure confusion , echoless cave of mirriors collapse like reflections exploding/ in a play for school children/ place by place / ESCAPE TO SAFETY /escape to night / elope to autumn/ pray for grace , baseless games/ fortnight ,castle, vase of roses. /shadowplex is house of mazes /till those fuckers collapes like echose exploding from the sound of golden bullets from the looks of plastic explosives at the sight of defeat to a place of beuitifull hallways at the thought of a future/ cleanless paint / THROUGH AND THROUGH.

Originally Posted by fairytale complex

hello everyone thanks for the replies. i appologize for my spelling in advance. the following is a new poem, and if you happen to be able to read through it please leave a comment. ok heres the poem. -------its titled------- THE ARCHETECTURE OF FRANK LOYD WRIGHT/ all white rooms/ constructable constructable/ in the hands of modern architecture/ and every other future thought/ looking back and seeing new/ its so old though its from the past/ like a reindeer / like construction/ like a raison on a button/ in the forrest right before the frost/ is/ is when/ the colors are needed/ for the blue room / when its finished

I like this

if you use more traditional formatting it'd be a lot more readable and effective i think. I'm only saying that because i think your poems would be more accessible that way, not saying it as an "important internet user" type of thing . it's up to you though of course

Grod ---Thanks . i think your right. i would format it in lines. ..... like each line under the last. but i dont know how, if i were to try i would use the tab button to get to the next row, but im pretty sure iv tryd that often , and it never quite works. anyways thanks for the reply.

lone wolf / the devastated/ the def/ left hook trilogy/ the refusal to submit/ the tainted fainted heart/ is left alone to purify/ the liquid love affair/ cant happen now / in this life/ i guess we needed tradgedy/ i guess we needed betheny/ all alone the lone wolf wonders/ the def/ the devastated / the left hook triliogy/ hook 2./ i know its you / left alone to purify/ left alone to dye/ left alone to hear the crys of a thousand dead hourses left alone in the himalayas/ left alone to study aesthetics / to get a fever and beg for death/ to descover loves last virtue /the damned romance / that taunts at virtue/ woven threaT OF LOVELESS PURSUE/ loneless death of dethless virtue/ in a place where kindness hurt you / and they kill your dog/ the refusal to submit / the mother fucking fakeness/ the fake mother fuckers.

betheny wants the saddest death/ the saddest death/ all alone / with the saddest colors / and an empty locket

To get to the next line, you press the 'Enter' or 'Return' key which sometimes has an arrow on it pointing to the left. It's above the shift key on the right side of the keyboard.



Or do you not have an English keyboard? Or are you using some other device entirely?

Anyways, as eccentric as your poems are, I find myself thoroughly enjoying them.

thank you
franklin

I <3 adidas

journal: iv been writing on napkins all day , at a coffee shop that always lets me down. sometimes all the conversations i hear seem to be a metaphor for me , and even the crosswords people left behind tell me that i am dead. i dont want to know if im dreaming , i want to know if i am dead. but the conversations never help, and im not intrested in magic , or uncovering some game to play. some stupid lonly game to play , that turns into a show. still some hope would be nice. i would have been at this coffee shop today no matter what, even without a reason. but todays reason was that i was hoping to get an ecstasy pill. isnt that depressing, i think so. iv never rolld , its a bad idea , im not trying to trip, im not trying to go crazy and unlock my hidden genius, i just want to get sad and cry and feel like a girl. because thats what the dead want, most of all. you know i dont have alot of hope in this.
the kid never showd up , 2 bad so sad.
i walked outside for one of many cigerettes, and my "friend" walked up and said he wanted to make a t-shirt that said "fuck people" he then told me some people in the coffee shop were making fun of his speach impairment. iv never noticed a problem with his speach, and i told him that.
then he asked me if i ever just want to get in a brawl, and i was like "yeah" and i started to tell him how someone tryd to fight me at the library for talking on the phone, but some other people came outside for a smoke and he just walked awy in the middle of my story.
so i went backinside to write on napkins for another 2 hours.
anyways its almost the end of the story and i go out for another ciggerette, a drunk man comes out rite after me and says somthing about how cold it is. i didnt have shit to say to this guy and i didnt realy have much hope or intrest in him at all.
but im like " i know" "is it supposed to get warmer" and he says 'shit i dont know" then he tells me its to early to start thinking about spring and that then its july and you take out your boat and then its fucking winter again. and i said "yeah you shouldnt have to much hope"--( i didnt have shit to say to this guy} then he surprised me and said a little hope can get you along way, and then he looked at me and said " it depends what world you live in"
before i could finish appreciating what he said he told me how he was still waiting for his 6'2 amazon chic whith three boobs and an ass and all this stupid shit. im so sick of all this sci-fi shit. anyways it made me sick in the past, and know im just dead to it.

dear MODS
dea moderattors
CAN YOU DELEATE THIS F$R ME
can you deleate this ho thread
?

No!

It's okay. Mods don't usually delete people's old posts/threads just because the author wants them to. Needs a compelling reason. Even if it is a flamewar, they prefer to lock the thread and edit the most flagrant posts.