The writings of Oddpoet

I like shiny things, I'm very superficial.

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

My scream painted sin

Across the sum­mer sky

The world

Wob­bled on its axis

Paused

Held its breath



The trees trembled

Sam­son knelt before me

And pre­pared to die

“Scarred Man” he began

His lips quivering

“They came in the night”

“The Cho­rus and I drew sword”

“”She bade us hold”

“And left with them”

His hands twisted in rage and shame

Yes

He would die for her



I let him live

My breaths came in ragged gasps

Her voice

Sud­denly

Came to me

As it had for three years now

And my eyes squeezed

In vain

To stem the tears

That washed my scarred face



She was alive!

I moved to my horse

Sam­son and other mem­bers of the Chorus

Eyes gleamed

And fol­lowed

Their blood lust

Pal­pa­ble

I winced



Men who

Once coaxed

Beauty

And Life

From Dirt

Would become

What I have always been

The enemy had much

To answer for.



“Samson”

“Dou­ble the guard”

“And pre­pare to move”

It was as if I struck him

“But…”

I never gave orders twice



My horse wheeled

As I method­i­cally approached the castle

My body was strewed with arrows

I couldn’t die

Until she told me

I could

The berserker was upon me

My sword screamed

And Sang

In the key of rage.

My blade glowed incandescent

Its white fire

Unquench­able

Blood hissed and splattered

My hated essence blazed



Who would dare touch her?

Those who stood before me

Died

The rest fled



Three witch word singers

Hurled arcane verse

At me

Just before there heads

Came to rest on the floor



I stormed the room that I knew held her

Five men died

Quickly

There

She was

The Last Poet and a Word Mage

Were engaged

In eldritch incantations

Her hands were bound

Imped­ing her

From verse flow



He was not

Nor could he ever

Be

A match for her

I almost laughed.

But decided to kill him

Instead



The Word Mage eye’s widened

Hurled

Death verse at me

His words crum­bled and howled

In use­less fury

“I am already dead fool”

I flung the Word Mage out the window

And watched

As his body tumbled

Curs­ing

That I could not hurt him

More.



I gath­ered her in my arms

“You know

You really have to stop doing that”

She curled up in my arms

And the world was

Once again

Tol­er­a­ble

Hope

Was

Alive



A bird sang

A group demon­strat­ing in front of the United Nations protest­ing the geno­cide in Dar­fur was set upon today by a group of angry New York shop­pers eager to get into the Christ­mas spirit.  Dis­grun­tled bar­gain hunter Christina Spencer angrily said, “I’m sick of this shit, Wal Mart  has a two hour spe­cial half priced sale which I will miss because of these pathetic fucks…  It’s Christ­mas for Christ’s sake. Hey we all have prob­lems, this year alone I spent two thou­sand dol­lars on lit­tle Susie’s bal­let lessons.”  To empha­size her peeve she kicked a young Dar­furian Child in the head crack­ing it’s skull like a fuck­ing eggplant.

Pen­ta­gon offi­cials announced they fucked up again in their eight year pur­suit of 911 mas­ter­mind Osama Bin Laden.  Award win­ning jour­nal­ist Odd­poet revealed that Bid laden was not in North Waziris­tan but actu­ally work­ing as an ani­ma­tor for the Walt Dis­ney Com­pany.  When pressed Pen­ta­gon big­wig Gates admit­ted that Bin Laden pen­chant for chang­ing one let­ter in his named befud­dled the Pentagon’s brain thrust.  The plug wear­ing Gates said, “It’s really not our fault we were look­ing for Osama Bin Laden and he was work­ing as Osama Ban Laden, You have to admire him, he is a crafty son of a bitch.”  The pen­ta­gon wun­derkind went on to state that he believed Bin Laden had out­side assis­tance and prob­a­bly four or five for­eign nations were involved in the nefar­i­ous scheme.  He urged all Amer­i­cans to remain sus­pi­cious and terrified.

Sci­en­tist announced they had noth­ing really to announce.  They did say the quest of cures for chil­dren leukemia, can­cer, aids, global warm­ing were con­tin­u­ing at a snail’s pace.  “But on the bright side we dis­cov­ered after inten­sive research that when you rip a lab rat’s ears off they make a really cool screech­ing sound.”

A group rep­re­sent­ing the “Real hor­ror writ­ers of Amer­ica” urged a boy­cott of the phony Vam­pire movie “New Moon”  It’s an out­rage, you have 13 year old chicks fin­ger­ing their sludge pods over some cute vam­pire who don’t even suck blood.  What the fuck?  He pre­dicted dire con­se­quences on the con­tin­ued fag­i­fi­ca­tion of Amer­i­can youths.  “Let’s face it a vam­pire is sup­pose to tear your throat out and they never fuck, sheeze”

The National Orga­ni­za­tion of Woman’s news con­fer­ence announc­ing the group’s leg­isla­tive ini­tia­tives urg­ing the “cas­tra­tion of all males” was dis­rupted by the icon­o­clas­tic Odd­poet.  While over­turn­ing tables and toss­ing dil­dos at the “les­bian fucks”, Odd­poet announced his own agenda. He planned to “cold­cock any chick who pisses him off” to demon­strate He turned and dropped a female reporter who got too close.  In the mêlée that fol­lowed Odd­poet was remon­strated by an asso­ci­ated who screamed, “she was not a les­bian Odd­poet, she was a pretty cool nympho­ma­niac who would fuck any man who looked her way or bought her a cup of cof­fee.” the never remorse­ful bard said, “Fuck the bitch, they’re all dykes in train­ing”   As he was being led away to a wait­ing police wagon he urged all les­bians to con­tinue mak­ing “Dyke flicks”, and that “he was still a sucker for girls going down on each other.”

In related news, Odd­poet planned to pub­lish from prison his con­tro­ver­sial annual Yule­tide extrav­a­ganza, “very cool sui­cide let­ters.” The gang raped devi­ate stated that he had the “utmost respect for any­one who up and offed them­selves.” The Amer­i­can Busi­ness alliance rejected the post and urged any­one in the depths of despair to hold off on killing them­selves till after the hol­i­days.  That “the con­sumer dri­ven Amer­i­can econ­omy needed every present bought and paid for by afore­men­tioned ema­ci­ated Amer­i­can poverty stricken con­sumer, It’s no time to be selfish”

And every word of it is true…

I kicked the Jester’s man­tle aside

It balled up

In a corner

I almost laughed

At it’s lone­li­ness.



Make me laugh!

Sorry not tonight

Got no time for smile

The clock be tick­ing



I slid through the sul­try sum­mer night

Naked

All bull­shit

Packed, pack­aged and labeled

In alpha­bet­i­cal order

Of course

That be Tomorrow’s game



Tonight

I stare at the stars

And will them brighter.

I feel the life of grass

Against my back

As it envelopes me

Makes love to me

Who could want a bet­ter lover



Crick­ets sing

Fire­flies flash cryp­tic code

In the light starved night

I know

They speak the eternal

The lan­guage of Poets and Lovers

Saints and Sinners

Mad­men

Mur­der­ers

Gods

Dev­ils

Tonight

There will be only tears and awe.

Tonight

There will be magic



Will you take my hand?

Please

No words

Tonight

We sim­ply

Be

A

Part

Of this divine tapestry

Sleep free my lady
Let thy trou­bled brow
Sooth in safe dream

Let the pranc­ing cloud hoofs
Of child­ish toys
Bring smile
And joy
And bend your lips
In too unfa­mil­iar ways

Let not men­da­cious lovers
Assault thee
Nor
The love­less toil
Of fruit­less search­ing
Scar your beauty

I know your heart

I shall never allow you to shed false tear
No water shall
Ever stain your visage

Again

My lady I love thee from afar
Can there be truer love?
More Forthright?

With­out need for self per­ceived advan­tage
Like an onion seller in the mar­ket
Lay­ing digit on scale
To improve the weight of purse?

I seek no recompense

Just

Tonight

You sleep free

Tonight

I will guard your dreams.

Guin­e­vere
Lay beside me
Let us lie upon sil­ver clouds
Hud­dled in Blan­kets of rain­bow
Bathe in essen­tial starlight
Each point of light diaphanous­ness por­tals
To what never was
But might yet come to pass
Where this bit­ter world does not exist
Where tears are never shed
Each new day a mys­tery
An unopened present
A child’s con­tented heart



Guin­e­vere
Do not speak
Words are clumsy use­less con­structs
The mere cack­ling of crows
Let the quick­en­ing of our hearts
And the trem­bling of our flesh
Sing our song



Let angelic choirs sing rhap­sodic coun­ter­point
Let the mae­stros of yore
play celes­tial instru­ments
Shak­ing the heav­ens
In thun­der­ous melody
Where even the dour Gods smile and nod
Know­ingly



Guin­e­vere
I am lost in your eyes
Falling help­lessly to an essen­tial core
The eye of the storm
The cen­ter of all things
I am no longer who I was
Merg­ing, meld­ing, blend­ing
Into some­thing new
Dis­tinct
Pure
What never existed before
Yet older than the ancient bones of Gaia



Guin­e­vere
Your name is the soft caress of a mid­night breeze
A glo­ri­ous spring day
A gen­tle rain that suc­cors parched earth
A balm that heals a bro­ken heart



Guin­e­vere…
Guin­e­vere…
Guin­e­vere…



A sin­gle tear rolls down my cheek
It is my gift to you