Welcome

Please excuse the comma splices, tense changes, verbosity, etc. I was just a youngin' and now I realize the error of my grammatical ways. Plus, I preferred the flowery and descriptive writing styles of the early 19th century and beyond rather than the short, journalistic post-Hemingway-style of writing. I love intense imagery and descriptions in general. Still deciding whether I should edit my old poetry for grammar mistakes or take the Beatnik approach and fuck it.

Disclaimer: I only wrote/write on bad days. Grand days have never inspired me enough to write as I've always used writing as an outlet. A majority of my poetry is angsty, dark humored, or depressing, however, I don't have depression, and I'm not self-destructive or suicidal by any means. My writing is mostly a tenfold representation of the kind of day I was having at the time. Embellishing the realities of my bad days on paper helped turn them into good days. Not sticking my head into an oven anytime soon (or ever, actually). :P +10 points if you got the reference.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to comment

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

My Nightmare, Alive

Sometimes I wish it had all been just a dream...

My mind awakens from its thoughtless sleep,
The world, a blur, as thy eyes open,
The pure rememberance of yesterday's past, gone.

Fruitless acts spill from thy spirit,
Thy pen, overflowing with rot,
Spite, maliced thoughts,
Objected by most.

I toss, turn, drear at the tormented world,
A corrupted cascade of catastrophe.

My mind marvels at the lack of might of some,
The failure to foreshadow the false,
Reveal the truth,
Be not afraid of admitting your wrongs.

Wrongs are immediately revealed, long-lasting,
Rights are over-looked, unnoticed.

Copyright © 2008

No comments: