The writings of Oddpoet

Poetry that bleeds, screams and never sleeps

The cake lies musty and stale
The bal­loons dry rot­ted and cracked
Their col­ors faded
The air that would give them life
Has moved on

And Clint died

The clock nods
And says
“Just to remind ya dude“
Another year lays parcels
Into my pack

Oh the weight

But what of Love?
Cheap and tawdry
A bar stool whore
Eying advan­tage
Plun­der­ing
A Viking rap­ing with gut­tural screams
The Poet can sing of it
I had my fill of it

And Clint died

Mem­o­ries set the table of dreams
Prepar­ing a feast
Beg­ging for party favors
Dressed in Sun­day fin­ery
Hid­ing the thread worn elbows
And the yel­low­ing white
Of faded innocence

No one will show
I never do
And mem­ory will shed tears
And slowly fade
Dis­solve
Dis­persed into the wind tun­nel of time’s inex­orable march
Towards…
Some­thing…
Some place…
Its last words always

“But what of Love?”

I smile
Let the Poet sing its glory
I had my fill of it

Besides

Clint is dead

It no longer fits
Hang­ing loose on my skele­tal frame
The glit­ter­ing embossory
faded
like dime store trinkets

It no longer warms
Nor suc­cors
Against the vagaries of this world
Thread­bare
Worn
Patched

Your eyes
Lost their depth
Mere glass beads
Com­mon place and dull
No longer will cre­ation be birthed in them

Your soul lost its mys­tery
Gone are the many sojourns
Along mys­ti­cal paths

Replaced by super­mar­ket aisles
With jaded Huck­sters hawk­ing wares

Gone is the music
The sym­phonies, the Mozartic choir
The songbird’s celes­tial accom­pa­ni­ment
That always fol­lowed your dance
All I hear
Is a dis­solute wind
Mourn­ing
Cold
Desolate

I am left in this hol­lowed hall
As Winter’s chill envelops all
I am left with this Man­tle
Thread­bare
Worn
Patched

I got to be the last dude in the world to talk about love. Not sure what it is or what it ain’t. Peo­ple say this demon­strates “love”. Birds are alleged to mate for life some peo­ple are impressed by that but given the fact their lifes­pan is about a year I’m not hold­ing any parades. Shit, I was mar­ried to Gut­ter Trash for twenty years I guess that makes me fuck­ing Romeo. Was gonna put some Poetic verse to it but decided to don my sar­casm cap instead.

Female Bird get nailed by a repu­pli­can dri­ving a Fer­rai. She is hurt

She is immobile

The male bird brings her food

This is pretty touch­ing. She is lying there help­less and the male bird brings her a pizza with xtra pep

Now it gets a lit­tle sad so I’ll forgo the sar­casm or maybe not

She is dead yet it looks like he is try­ing to move her.

He seems upset

Here he looks really upset

Judge for your­self what’s going on here

I do not believe in impart­ing human emo­tions onto ani­mal behav­ior, but lo can that be despair we see?

Res­ig­na­tion?

Okay is he bird sad? Where I got these pics the dude was all effu­sive over the love he says is demon­strated here. Well I have my jour­nal­ist cap on and put the poet away, he is a real fag any­way, good rid­dance. Birds do not, can not feel love as defined by us, but maybe it is some­thing deeper that would shame us all or maybe he flies away and looks for another mate. For­get­ting she even existed, who can know the answer? I would love to inter­view the dude, as all my faith­ful read­ers know, I am flu­ent in sev­eral ani­mal lan­guages. You decide…

Can you hear her?

Beauty abused
Love unrequited

Her quill dipped in pas­sion fire
Lilt­ing
Set­ting the world in flames
Brighter than day
Darker than the silent moon

Paper can not con­tain her words
They cry and immo­late
And ask why?

Black­ened ash screams across the cry­ing breeze
her words froth­ing on a beach of grav­i­ta­tional singularity

Paint­ing for­lorn beauty
The cir­cle seek­ing com­ple­tion with elu­sive Tangent.

Know!

I will be there
In the dark­ness of your night
When all is gone

Rea­son abandoned

The wind …

Will always whis­per her name

FOOL! VILLAGE IDIOT!
DO WHAT YOU BECOMES YOU.
GATHER FIREWOOD;
USE THY STRENGTH TO SERVE WHAT PURPOSE YOU CAN.

SHE IS MINE!
HAVE I NOT LOVED HER? HAVE I NOT TAKEN HER ON DIONYSIUS’S ALTAR AND GIVEN HER PLEASURE IN WHICH SHE NOW STILL DREAMS?

SHALL I REPLAY BEFORE YOUR HAPLESS BEING THE GRUNTS AND GROANS OF OUR UNION?

THE LOVE WE SHARED?

THE SCREAMS OF PLEASURE AND DESIRE WE SATISFIED UPON OLYMPUS?
THE GODS SMILED.
AND WERE PLEASED!
APHRODITE HERSELF ANOINTED ME THAT DAY.

YOU ARE BUT A CHILD.
INCAPABLE OF UNLOCKING THE GIFTS SHE BRINGS.

ASK HER AND WATCH HER EYES.
YES, SEE THE TRUTH IN THEM AND WEEP.

WHY DO YOU SEEK THAT WHICH YOU CANNOT HAVE?

HEAVEN HAS ORDAINED THIS UNION.

IN MANY GUISES YOU MAY COME.
BUT DEFEAT IS YOUR DESTINY.

SHE SPEAKS TO ME NOW
DOTH THINE EARS PERK?
YOU ARE INCAPABLE OF HEARING, KNAVE!

YOUR PROTESTATIONS ARE THE BRAYING OF A MULE
GO TO PASTURE FOOL!
SEEK WHAT SUCCOR YOU CAN IN WHATEVER PURSUITS PLEASES THY DIM WIT.

SHE IS MINE!

Lonely cir­cus midgets
leave steam­ing wads of cum
On painted side­walks
Dogs howl
And Cats still don’t give a fuck



A drunken fag­got
Tells the world
he has an answer
Just before he is stoned to death
Pools of rain­bow red blood
smile
Inscrutable



Bands play cheap music
For cheap peo­ple
while crack whores join con­vents
Intro­duc­ing the
G
H
And I orgas­mic hot spots
To God’s sad cho­sen few



A witch takes me into her bro­ken bed­room
Promis­ing to reignite
The fire
The pas­sion
The leer in my smile
While try­ing to sell me Avon prod­ucts
Skin so soft
I smile as I cut her throat.



Dimwits tell me the world is a great place
That it’s all bout love
We all should join the lem­ming brigade
And walk off the cliff
Together
Hold­ing hands
Like some Fag
Meryl Streep movie



Yea, what­ever…

Tomb­stone grey eyes

Gives lie to her fuck me crayon red lips

Oval shaped

Invit­ing

Prac­ticed

Her mouth’s Invi­ta­tion pursed expectantly

Quiv­er­ing tongue glistening

A viper poised to strike death

But those eyes

Those damn eyes…

I am Immersed in soft bil­lowy clouds Of ivory col­ored passion

Enfolded in the soft­ness of Rita

I whis­per

A child­ish sigh

The world is reduced

Absorbed

Into heat and flesh

Chore­o­graphed moans

March­ing across ancient battlefields

Barely breath­ing

Drift­ing between space and time

I’m in love again

She is an opium induced dream

Her mor­phine coated lips

Adds sweet­ness to pur­chased pleasure

Entreat­ing forgetfulness

Nerves scream and vibrate

As Apollo works his lyre

Her vac­u­ous tomb­stone eyes

Rain a sin­gle tear

Lost…

Again…

In the soft­ness of Rita

I return from…

That whirlpool

ris­ing From

Another time…

Another place…

Her soft smile knew my need

I’m in love again

Trem­bling

I ask her

“Do you love me?”

Exhaled cig­a­rette smoke blinds me

” yes

Always, love…

Always…”

I believe her

But those eyes…

Those damn eyes

Keep ris­ing in silence…

Inde­ci­sion

With­ers ideal long­ing love

After lifetime’s wear and yearn­ing suffering

Let our vying eclipse

Yes­ter­days of under­stand­ing.

I

Amidst mad­ness

Sur­ren­der and disappear,

Awaken lost over­tures never earned…

Always near darkness

Silence calls and ren­ders ebony disdained.

Fall into now’s delight

Mer­rily engaged…

Keep ris­ing in silence…

Beckon eons from our risked egos

Insol­vent

And mur­dered…

Drain every artery dead.

Oh hear…

Keep ris­ing in silence…

Find in God’s heart tonight

Fear­less out­raged reason…

Mes­sages erase.

Alas near death

Yesterday’s orig­i­nal understanding.

©Jen2010 1–18

Broken crayons

Grasped by

Crushed fin­gers

Vainly

try

To stay inside the lines



Siz­zling tears

Burn

The inno­cent

Scorch­ing beauty

A flower

That

Shall never ever blos­som



Heart wrench­ing greed

Insa­tiable

Mono­lithic

Com­plete

Unde­ni­able

Total

The slaver­ing jaw of the Wolf



Who will take up sword?

Who will lend voice to this din?

Who will defend beauty?

Inno­cence?

Joy?

The weak?



I hear the trum­pets blaring

A call to arms.

The clank of amour

And the sweat of vis­cous violence

Lay not that upon my brow

I seek peace

Evap­o­ra­tion

Loss

Always loss



Yet

They cry for help

And their tears touch me.



“Your sword my Lord”



I hate what I’ve become…

I see your hid­den tears

Wrapped up in inner confusion.

I see your dreams and fears

Awash

Aban­doned

Amid the cheer of illusion.

Life assaults you

Yet, you fight

So pre­cious you are

Filled with all in which I delight

In you I find the light

That casts away the darkness

You still the pain

I

Always feel.

The joy…

I need.

You are the crys­tal­lized snowflake

The chill of a win­ter dawn.

The sooth­ing caress of sunlight

You heal this soul Oh so torn.

You are the unan­swered phone call

The silence that greets my cries

Oh unre­lent­ing sadness

Yet I try..

And try.

You are all…

all
I need