Welcome to Gaia! ::

I quite like that one whee

Poem that I've had sitting around for ages doing nothing. Only just got a decent ending on it last night. Again, it's absurd. The rhyme is especially absurd - supposed to justify the subject matter. Its also deliberately lofty, just so you know. Yeah, I had fun with this...

The Poet

Tittle, tattle, fiddle and rattle,
Of pen and page and eye.
A sweeping glare and passions heir,
Oh sun! Oh stars! Oh sky!
Why must you be forever where,
I cannot grasp a prickly pear?
No hammer, no chain,
No furnace fed brain!
One must write with sweet refrain,
For the pen I guide is not yet tame,
It loves to write of flesh and pain,
And night’s that held my spirit slain.

…such ill words are read inane.
From such weakness I remain,
To sit.
To write of wind and rain.

Tittle, tattle, fiddle and rattle,
Oh pen and page and eye.
I dream of years of writers love.
The pigs and pies fly by.
A sudden taste for wasted haste:
My pen across a page.
My dreams of love! Of stars above!
Oh blessed writing sage!
I know not what I do with words,
My sins of sinful curse.
When the will is torn from heart.
My eyes.
The uni-verse.

Tittle, tattle, fiddle and rattle,
Oh pen! Oh page! Oh eye!
A sweeping death of spoiled breath,
Awaits me - do I cry?
Do I clutch the days with claws,
With snarls like toothless wails?
Do I write of guilty souls?
Of ships with tattered sails?
Do I write of God and Truth and Love and Hate and War?
Do I write of human waste?
Of drunkard and of whore?

I cannot see what must be seen,
To do the masters due.
I cannot write what must be known,
Until I know it too.

badgers
badgers
badgers
badgers
badgers
badgers
badgers
badgers
badgers
badgers
badgers
badgers
badgers
mushrooom
snaaaaakee
badgers
badgers
badgers
theres the greatist song in the world....i think thats how it goes

*frenchy art critic voice*

"It's confronting! It's innovative! It's bullshit!"

the cup cake sits alone on the table wondering when it will grow to be as big as the pie which sat on yonder windowsil cooling.
pie.
pie.
rituals performed around said pie.
pie.
pie.
pie.

Here's the first poem I ever wrote. I wrote it over 2 years ago. It is presented to you so that you may delight in its angsty crappiness. If you want to half-way understand it you should read my major work, otherwise just have a good laugh.

Content in nowhere

Eyes flicker open
Mind turns on
Perceptions change
The illness they chant
The illness of grief
Their pens hit the paper
To start the drugs flowing

Engulfing darkness
Witness to my plight
Strokes my body
Whispers to me
Lulls me to sleep

Numbness of treatment
Remedies in emptiness
The only sensation allowed to me

The feelings come
Through walls
Splattered with my life
Torn knuckles
Know the story

Tears relentless
Without purpose
An identity lost
What am I mourning?
The loss of myself

The science
Kills my emotions
Frozen in ice
As cold as my thoughts

My body lives
My mind is dead

I feel pain
I feel nothing


Wasn't that an angsty thrill ride?
Hmm, can you taste the elitism?

Where the hell are you?
Theres no-one here exept me.
You all socialise.

Gaia is playing tricks on me. It's all like:

"Hey Jim, theres a new post in this thread by Emwah!"

And I'm all like:

"Fw0ar ********! Lets check it out!"

So then I click and it isn't really there, so Gaia's all like:

"Hah, I tricked you! Your so lame! Hah, dumbass."

And so then I start crying and write a vent-worthy poem.

Anywho, here is a short short story that I wrote when I was bored yesterday and the internet wasn't working. It's about Penises. Is the plural of p***s actually Peni? Seems like it should be...

It’s a p***s Thing

The rain spread in whistling waves across the road and footpath. The wind whipped it down again and again creating an atmosphere of apprehension and uneasy exhaustion. This was reflected within the Army Recruitment Office. The officer on duty was sitting opposite a well dressed, jittery young man.

“So…” He paused “…You’re a pacifist?”

The officer leaned forward in his chair, confusion evident within his expression. By his tone of voice the comment seemed more like an accusation than a question.

“A pacifist? Oh my…” The young man leaned back and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “No, I don’t suppose I am…no, certainly not. I just don’t like the idea of killing people. The thought of killing makes me feel icky. So wasteful you know.”

The officer let out a long sigh.

“But that’s not to say I wasn’t a pacifist, oh my no. I fancied myself as a pacifist for a long while. That’s right. Peace of earth and the brotherhood of humanity and all that sort of thing. It’s all wonderful in theory you know, but the world isn’t like that.”

The officer looked at his watch. Four-fifty. Only ten minutes until closing. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer to any divinities who may have been listening, but then he figured they’d probably already knocked off by now.

“They really are lovely ideals…and if everyone believed in them the world would be perfect. But you know what? Do you know? I don’t suppose you do…well let me tell you, not everyone wants to live in peace. I suppose you already know that, being in the military and all… But…but you work as peace-keepers don’t you? Yes! That’s part of your job as a soldier, sometimes anyway. You keep the peace. I’ve often wondered how that works, you use guns to keep the peace…perhaps they should call them peace-enforcers because that’s really what they are doing, doesn’t quite have the good old neutral ‘Here comes the cavalry’ ring to it though…shame…damn shame.”

The officer had completely tuned out and was staring out the window. The dull drone of the young mans voice combined with the relentless undertone of the rain to create an almost soothing sound that seemed to lull the officer into a trance-like state.

“Pacifism is much like communism or any other lovely little humanitarian idea, it all sounds peachy, but it just isn’t natural. People have to kill. People have to compete. People need to feel powerful…yeah - and it’s not just a p***s thing either, it’s basic human instinct. Well, I admit, it’s mostly a p***s thing, but that just reinforces the point – Its all natural! Animalistic don’t you know…If God didn’t wan men to argue he wouldn’t have given us dicks…its all natural don’t you know.”

The officer finally looked up.

“Look, if you have a problem with the Armed Forces, why would you want to join the Army?”

“Well, you know, I need to feel powerful too. Plus I wouldn’t mind earning some money and serving my country.”

The officer let out a small sigh of relief and reached for the necessary papers. He was finally going to be able to sign this guy up and go home.

“Well then lad, how exactly do you want to serve your country?”

“Oh that’s simple…” Replied the young man with a detached chuckle “I want to know how it feels to justifiably kill a stranger.”