Posts Tagged ‘statue’

moonbeam

Shine me a moon beam
Paint me a galaxy
Rend me a portion
Beat me a funky improvisation
Dance me a dinosaur bone
Frenzy me a psychotic break
Rumble me a raucous riot
Preach me a madrigal
Sing me a symphony
Smash me a statue
Crinkle me a carpet
Fondle me a fondue
Confess me a soliloquy
You’re starting to bother me
Get out of my head

clowncorpse

Corpse of a clown
Face without eyes
Deadweight diatribe against earth magic
Maudlin musing about nocturnal naughtiness
Dead grey foetus in a rubbish bin
Dead eyed optimism
Dead eyed consumerism
Corpse of a chorus girl
Makeup blurred, legs spread
Paranoia, Paranoia
Meanwhile many at the old folks home are
Entranced by the possibility of a quiet death
A quick death
Sacrificial mechanisms confound and confuse
And Paranoia seeps in
Encrusted with schadenfreude
Beaten to a spaghetti consistency
Squeezed through skull
Aching for cold lips
Of death kiss
Corpse of Marilyn Monroe
Necrophilia
Paranoia, Paranoia
Eyeball sliced like an egg
Eye-juice oozes
Poison gas pass-times eat away the soul
Napalm nightmares blaze across the cranium
Paranoia, Paranoia
Road-kill retro-action to circumvent cynicism
Squashed cat somnambulism
Body-bag of broken bones
Corpse of a junkie
Fantasy zombie collapses
Cold in a corner
Paranoia, Paranoia
Rigour mortis
Statue of the living
Physical indelible memory
Every corpse like a leaf in the wind
And a cell in the body of the grim reaper

sexism

I could tell I’d freaked you out
You said ‘That’s offensive especially for women. Let’s stop talking about that stuff.’
And my stomach knotted into a ball, and my balls crawled up inside me
I thought of how lonely for female company I was
How desperate to impress
I realized I’d blown it and been offensive
Oh God, don’t let me be a servant of the patriarchy
I don’t want to oppress anyone
My language about my flirting lessons is not appropriate
My attitude to women is not appropriate
It has a hint of hunger
It has a hint of lust
It has a hint of objectification
It has a hint of sexism
It has a stench of fear
It has a stench of desperation
It has a stench of ignorance
It has a stench of idolatry
I don’t want to be a gibbering maniac with a rapist mind
Please don’t think I’m a monster or a creeper
I’m just so lonely that I feel like I’m dying inside from the ground up
Inch by inch turning into a statue
Soon to be made a psychological eunuch
By sexual deprivation, frustration and loneliness