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Submitted on
March 23, 2013
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(Contains: strong language and ideologically sensitive material)
when the crow caws at midnight
and his squall sounds like your name
when the sharp rock that you tripped on
leaves you swollen and be-sprained
when the days of glory past
come back to haunt you with a vengeance
and the time to kiss some ass
is long past in dreams of decadence

take your time, relax enjoy
you’ll have less life left tomorrow
bring your bowl and fill it up
with dreams and passions and with sorrow
life is not easy and you should know
each pleasant tide has under tow
drift out as far as you can stand
scramble frantic back to land

it is not this, it is not that
it is not what you want that matters
wear clothes that hide your fat
and come home in tears and tatters
do I care and should I worry
if you launch a futile ferry?
i am just another loner
a dead god with still a boner

eat my conscious, spit my sperm
infect your soul with my damned germ
art is not what you want to be
a sac of pus flavored with pee
you want a world I cannot give
a place enticing you to live
but there is nothing I can do
for your life is up to you

so roll yourself in fields of clover
take a demon as your lover
shirk the sun and work the darkness
come undone, give in to weakness
keep your hand close to your penis
swallow whole the spritz of venus
i don’t want you, i don’t need you
i won’t take the time to bleed you

i’m not your friend, i’m not your father
i could care less if you’re my daughter
don’t ask for counsel or wise advice
what i would tell you is not nice
leave me alone, leave me alone
let me go home, let me go home
let the stone that you will trip on
be the one that i have slipped on

each morning breaks, a new day dawning
your soul awakes; your soul is yawning
My daughter has left me, denied me...taken my grandchildren away.
Just as my wife before her took my children from me.
There is only so much a man can take, a heart that won't bend will surely break.
Twice in a lifetime is too much to ask.
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:iconswitzerlandmodels:
SwitzerlandModels Featured By Owner Apr 25, 2013  Student Traditional Artist
A poet of darkness... A poem without rimes, a strange message: You are Lord's Byron prisoner of Castle of Chillon : [link]
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:iconpjarrett:
PJarrett Featured By Owner Apr 26, 2013
Thank you for the comparison with Byron. I seem to have been born out of place and in the wrong time. Read and enjoy all my work. I love the sound of my own voice. Terribly vain of me, some would think. They don't understand that sitting down in front of a blank piece of paper and writing takes courage and an ego the size of the full moon.
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:iconswitzerlandmodels:
SwitzerlandModels Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2013  Student Traditional Artist
You create, even if it's only the sound of your own voice, dear ;) Kisses, Carole
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:iconpjarrett:
PJarrett Featured By Owner Apr 6, 2013
Shame? I would love to feel shame again. It's been so long.

My life is up to me?

My life is a mountain top that has collapsed upon me, leaving me buried beneath the debris of memory. I scream, of course, even a sheep bleats as he is slaughtered. What does it accomplish? Nothing.

You cannot know...perhaps you do...in which case I pity you.

What is it like to see all your paronoid fantasy played out on the stage of history?

I have been so deep into the darkness I have no memory of the sun...the light in my eyes, the heat on my face.

I am a shadow searching for the person who cast me then walked away.

I am a splinter of time, without beginning, without end.

I want so much, but I've forgotten what I want it for.

I am omnipotent and impotent.

I want to feel...anything...just to feel again.
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:iconbrittohhh:
brittohhh Featured By Owner Apr 6, 2013
and yet the question still remains
why are you left with so much shame?
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:iconbrittohhh:
brittohhh Featured By Owner Apr 6, 2013
...but there is nothing I can do
for your life is up to you.
Reply
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