The writings of Oddpoet
I like shiny things, I'm very superficial.

Archive for November 24th, 2009

I am a Poet

Tue ,24/11/2009

I rage at the incom­pe­tence of my words
Another futile attempt to
Pierce the caul
That fil­ters my dreams



Ripped from a woman’s womb
Not of a woman born
Seek­ing com­pan­ion­ship
Find­ing only scorn



The obfus­ca­tions of Satanic spawn
The TV’s point of sin­gu­lar­ity
Into that black hole I’m drawn
Blind­ing me with banal­ity



They killed Lenny Bruce
Dis­guised as over­dose
They though they broke him
The Phar­isees did boast
They died face­less, unknown
They are for­got­ten corpses
Devoid of flesh and bone
His words live on



I am a Poet
I dance
Between the crush­ing weight
Of con­for­mity and chaos
I move to a rhythm and beat
That speaks to my unique vision



My songs are pain
Not joy
Of ques­tions
Not knowl­edge
Of a bro­ken heart
Not love



I am the pack less wolf
The out­sider
You never see me
I hover on the edge of invis­i­bil­ity
I am the embar­rassed pause
The faux pas
And the lost cause



I am a poet
I am what the world made me
And what I was meant to be

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Posted in Poetry | 3 Comments »

Darkness

Tue ,24/11/2009

Blind light­ning snakes invis­i­ble against the coal black night
Macabre laugh­ter drowns out the pleas of the Poets
The death rat­tle of inno­cence masks the Bard’s song
The empty stom­achs of the hun­gry
Roared in thun­der­ous accusation

The uni­verse was engulfed in shad­ows
The Moon doused its radi­ance
Light died painfully
Its screams sucked down
At the point of singularity

Hun­gry ani­mals devour the strong
While the meek became chaff for the scythe
The preacher man wrung his hands
And cursed God
Love became rape
Can­ni­bal­ism replaced altruism

The Few
Hud­dled in the cold sheen of despair
And lis­tened to the dying screams which haunted their dark­ness
They heard the approach of vicious evil
.And clutched each other
Curs­ing the skin that sep­a­rated their essence

On This day
When the Light Died
And Dark­ness prevailed

They pre­pared to Die

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Posted in Dark Poetry | 2 Comments »

Child of Apollo

Tue ,24/11/2009

I met her.
A woman with a child’s eyes
Filled with won­der and questions.

She danced through the snow
Cold could not touch her.
Her heart burn­ing pas­sion.
Her soul a prism
Where she shaped dreams.

Oth­ers fal­tered.
Her steps were ordained.
A child of Apollo.
She was her own Muse.

She spoke to the world
In a lan­guage
That caused won­der.
Armed only with quill and ink
She changed worlds
Shaped hearts
Made tears obsolete.

Her words were like songs
Indeli­ble
Unfor­get­table.
They vibrated in time to a uni­ver­sal clock
Tick­ing truth and beauty.

Poetry was her art
Her pas­sion
The altar where she shed
Her life’s pain.

All were amazed.

But no one saw the sad girl
Behind the beauty
The words…

She was a child of Apollo.
Her steps were ordained.

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Posted in Poetry | 5 Comments »

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