Writer's "Block"

[No More Sugar]

"Words and stenches keep a close eye.
At least of the one when you told me no.
I might be more interested in anything you say
If I had two of my own.
I could probably believe it, or roll along with nothing
If I had left you alone.

I'd be content with ceasing, if she was the bus that killed me
Over all we've kept goodness alive
Despite the way you told me no."
-----------
Note to myself:
"Only Four of us, Wild Card.
No rope or cold.
If he brought us back, I'd find out why I left...
Now select, and hope she's lucky."

i've actually been writing this December...first time in almost 2 months.

[wither-I]

Nice to see this still a&k and excellent work - as above ^

Long time no post.

Lets put this to couch
With hired refrains
Making same mistake
To procure maximum gains
These your own
Darling
Wonderful
Empirical pains

Ritual rubbish
Is your rational choice
Bound to repeat fools
And fill vulgar void
Like epochs prior
Renaissance
And catharsis
Make equivocal aims

dude this is killer! the best stuff ive read in a while period...

[wither-I]

did a lil freestyling in the chit chat topic -plan a fuck...

"hoe on a rope"

put them hoes on a schedule ya dig

do that chore like cinderella ya dig

im all about balls and banquets ya dig

but the callender says we got a curfew ya dig

best be out that door once the deed be done ya dig

no hangin around snuggle bug in the rug ya dig

cuz after you gone i got another appointment ya dig

dont get hurt hoe on the way to see the doctor ya dig

this is a profession all about knockin ya dig

i keep straight prescribin' ya dig

cuz hoe's got ailments like people too ya dig

and stressful schedules and bills too ya dig

but im gone get mine ya dig

so ya best be on time ya dig

[wither-I]

merry solstice,
you private gems,
you pagans of a ruling earth,
you masters of the whimsical,
you tinkerers of love...

this is your song,
sung upon the obscure and discordant patterns,
the wavering refrains,
the screaming of open spaces,
the starry conglomerations of a luminous afterbirth,
in the vaccum of an existential lung!

it bites from the bottom of our hearts,
to pass in revolt and dance,
no oppressor greater than gravity,
with no worldly demand for a decorated martyr!

[theshadeisatool]

merry solstice,
you private gems,
you pagans of a ruling earth,
you masters of the whimsical,
you tinkerers of love...

this is your song,
sung upon the obscure and discordant patterns,
the wavering refrains,
the screaming of open spaces,
the starry conglomerations of a luminous afterbirth,
in the vaccum of an existential lung!

it bites from the bottom of our hearts,
to pass in revolt and dance,
no oppressor greater than gravity,
with no worldly demand for a decorated martyr!

This one is a gem, love it! 'starry conglomerations of a luminous afterbirth' - absolutely brilliant, an antidote for my vacuous post-christmas

Nice to see this still a&k and excellent work - as above ^

Long time no post.

Lets put this to couch
With hired refrains
Making same mistake
To procure maximum gains
These your own
Darling
Wonderful
Empirical pains

Ritual rubbish
Is your rational choice
Bound to repeat fools
And fill vulgar void
Like epochs prior
Renaissance
And catharsis
Make equivocal aims

dude this is killer! the best stuff ive read in a while period...

Far too kind dude!

[theshadeisatool]

No friend in dread
Or companion in doom
You wanted to offset
Not for fear to loom

Fragile in situ
No aesthete glory to present
Procrastinate a picture
While the performance you resent

[wither-I]

a bridge coming together in a fall.
a marriage in carnage, docked.
a leap to the origin from a vantage aloft,
where birds can be seen grazing on their feet,
small shards of the sky in their beaks,
like worms plucked from other moons...

holistic gatherings to put eyes all around,
and ears to the ground,
a vibrant begging resounds,

fall,

fall,


fall...

[lostpilot]

I often understand that my personal poetry is way too limited and way too simple when I compare it with yours all.

[wither-I]

i love your writings man

[wither-I]

...at a time of respiring,
trust was turned out in such great hopes,
that the vacuum overcame the exploder,
a sinus shared,
with all who bleed of mess we cannot measure.

for a tremble dense of earthen bases,
blazing,
rises and annihilates the senses,
heed for way of soft tissue emotions,
and rash callous responses...