The writings of Oddpoet » madness

I have no mouth

oddpoet1 — Tue, 18 May 2010 10:10:53 +0000

She laughed and spread her legs and said “Fuck Me”

I ran out of the building
Made of counterfeit promises
And of stripe clad designer shit

She was everywhere

The breeze
The wind
The manic song of birds.

I rambled down the street bleeding gut shot

She was the Mailman’s fake smile
The school children’s skipping steps
The knowing smile of false traffic

She was the hum of summer lawn mowers
The incandescent laugh of young lovers
The foolish pride of suit wearing wannabes

She howled at my weakness
Assaulted me with Hollywood smiles
And soul eating love words

Holiday picnics played and measured my creeping steps
Balloons painted the phony sky
Fireworks snapped and crackled
Me
To the ground

I crawled up yesterday’s steps

The world
Regarded me
Like decayed vermin

A mouse better off dead
In the trap

I slammed the door-less room shut
Bleeding sweat

Sanctuary sounding Renfield giggles
In madmen harmony

She appeared before me with condescending laughter

I tried to screamed

But I had no mouth

I am Madness

Eddie Mount — Thu, 11 Mar 2010 18:50:52 +0000

Her blood screamed contrast to the polished white porcelain
Begging for meaning
As it swirled and sloshed
And descended down to where?
If that all that is left to me?
Diluted blood on some incomprehensible journey
with the faint pique of Lifebuoy stinging my senses

They killed her
Stabbed her with lying knifes
Shot her dead with scented candles
Fried her brain in love potions
Flayed her skin with flagrant promises
Buried her in maggots and puke larvae

They believe they know me

Can you know the stopped heart?
I have no need for power ties
Nor is my smile painted
Like a performance piece for a 3% wage increase
I have no use for laughter
I am the shadow that disquiets their dreams

They can never comprehend
That I DON’T NEED

I am invisible in the light
Yet blaze like painted pain in moonlight’s caress

I will fuck their God
And bring down heaven
I will blot the Sun
And rape angels with the devil’s cock

I am madness
And I’m coming…

They Come for me

oddpoet1 — Thu, 11 Mar 2010 05:00:42 +0000

As if the beats of my heart were unique.
As if I were a star in a long dead constellation
To be resurrected by sad eyes

Layers of false hope strew the stage
Genetically predispositioned to save the gene
I am more than that fuckers!

Climb they implore
Can you not see the light?
I can not be blinded by false hope

Their penciled stick figured God
Would embrace me
Like some chick’s cheap fuck toy

Would you cheapen insanity?
Make it a crawling insect
Searching for death?

I stare at the world
In a ring made of cheap dreams
It ain’t good enough

I go deeper into the maze
The path is down
Not up

I am the last magician
But I ply no tricks
I just dig

Deeper

The Crazy Lady and the Broken Clock

Eddie Mount — Sat, 06 Mar 2010 17:06:22 +0000

She had the sweetest smile
But eyes that seen too many dark places
And when she decided to play with the world
Her mind was sharp
Like a glistening razor
Pulled out of Richard Speck’s pocket
Blood stained and thirsty
Screaming for vengeance
Always at that mill
Grinding
Honing
whetting
Her hatred for this world

But it was the broken clock she carried
Around her neck which
Hunched her back
Like Quasimodo
Like Atlas shouldering the burden of this world
It sprouted springs and gears
The tousled hair of some deranged Medusa
Wavering in mad rhythm to her tortured steps

But the wood was cared for
Polished and shone
Not giving reflection
But absorbing all
A black hole
Where only night lived

She would smile and touch it constantly
it’s hands frozen
In rictus
The stiffened reach of a long dead God
The clock was perpetually 9:47
It was when her love left the world
When her life creased to be
She said
Love would come back
And it would start ticking again
Others would laugh at her
And roll their eyes to the sky
Not I

She was far too young
To push a shopping cart
Filled with the tattered refuse
Of other people’s lives
of her own

Yet day in and day out
She rolled wearing
treads in the streets
Like a Roman legion off to some
Distant conquest.
Only she knew that destination

I do not see her anymore
No one ever cares
A paltry few
Really care…
Perchance
She found a new land
Where her eyes match her smile
Where life does not assault her so…

And
I hope
That clock starts ticking
Again…

Broken Word ~Malt Shop Blues~

oddpoet1 — Wed, 17 Feb 2010 18:55:47 +0000

Malt Shop Blues ~Broken Word Piece~

Silent Death Within The Tomb~para

Para — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 03:34:50 +0000

There are so many suffocating images
On the second story
That they jump for their lives
Like glories on fire
Flaming the sky
With the backdrop clouds
To liven the entertainment
For eyes dry
And clouded over by judgment
And for the tries diminished
At the wake of shrouds
Revealed.

Images that witness their own death
Forced stillbirths
For the sake of held breath
And the measuring of penis girth
Of mere babes
Sealed upon impact
To be memories
Held tight as momentary fact
And glimmerings of what could have been
Of what cannot defend itself
As reality…
Too late
Just another casualty
Of feeling blackened
By the great pharaohs
Elated
Berated again.

They were
But cannot be proven
Again as uncertain
Cremated for blurting the words
Into the volcano of the sun…
What was begun
Was heard
Then spun
Into a thousand shattered webs
Weeping
And keeping tracking of each tear
Sleeping on the edge of the pillow…
Each creeping silhouette
Dissolves
Upon the light of day.

There’s nothing left wide open
And nothing left
With more to say or groom…
The will cuts the
Umbilical
As death screams silence
To echo
Within the pyramid’s tomb
As a bereft womb.

©Jen2010 2–5

Another failed suicide attempt

Eddie Mount — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 18:31:49 +0000

My brothers hear the crash and break the door down… Absurdly, I mentally curse Home Depot and their cheap fucking doors. So there I am with a belt around my neck and the entire drop ceiling strewed about the room. I fucking hate failed suicide attempts. I mean what can you say, “Whoops?” It’s like getting caught by your future ex-wife with your sweat pants draped about your ankles waxing your carrot to the Fredrick’s of Hollywood web site. That has happened to you, right? Please say yes.

I briefly wonder how woman masturbate. Probably with environmentally friendly solar powered dildos. I hate Women.

So my older Bro says, “Dickweed, stick with drinking yourself to death, suits your style.” Gotta love my Brother.

So I decide to go outside, which is a feat in itself because I haven’t left my room in about three months. I find most people boring — I really hate rubbing elbows with the fuckers. I leave the belt around my neck; I figure maybe I can pass it off as some kind of new sartorial style.

I see the mailman and I was going to tell him to stop delivering me mail, I don’t open the fuckers– what’s the point. But, I figured he worked for the Post Office and therefore was in his own private hell.

So I make it to the overpass, beneath me is the New Jersey Turnpike. I read somewhere; it was one of the most traveled roads in the US. I watched the social insects whiz by. I dig the sound. The World is full of songs; you just have to know how to listen.

I notice the inward curving fence and it pisses me off. (I’m always pissed) I mean it’s not like I can’t get some C4 and blow a whole in the sucker.

I know they are trying to stop jumpers. Not because they care about human life, they don’t want you fucking with traffic. I once saw a jumper splattered like sea gull shit on the asphalt. People were getting out of their cars and kicking the dead fucker saying shit like:

“I got a massage in 30 minutes I’m late because of you dead shit”

“I have a two hour window to cheat on my husband and fuck Ted the insurance man”

And my personal favorite:

“Someone scrape this dead fucker off the road”

So I mosey down to the local Dot Head store. What’s his name is at the counter. Cool dude but he has far too many consonants in his name. Hence “What’s his name?” Now, he has this pet Anaconda who he loves, so I ask him if he has any new pictures and his eyes light up and says: “I’ll be right back.” He runs to the back room and I run to chest freezer whereupon I start stuffing frozen Ice cream sandwiches down by pants and in my pockets. I love stealing shit and I love Ice cream sandwiches.

So he comes back and starts showing me the pictures of his pet snake and in the meantime my balls are freezing from the frozen Ice Cream sandwiches stuffed in there and let’s face it, who needs frozen balls.

I give him a fake smile and I split and start eating my plunder. Oh yea, then I went home.

Here there be Demons

Eddie Mount — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 10:55:33 +0000

It was a rickety old thing…

The train that is…

Filled with busted dreams

And

Salty tears

And faceless people

Who no longer cared

There were not many there to see me off

Just a few…

They begged me not to leave

Where was I going

I had no idea

I was just going

Who can answer such questions

Their tears were touching

As If they knew

I was never coming back

Take directions

No point in that

I never follow them

Go right

I go left

Besides

No matter which way you go

You always arrive at your destination

Looking back

I wonder if I had a choice

If I could have changed anything

Might as well try to change

The color of your eyes

The way you laugh

Will the rain away

I arrived

It was a cold place

The Sun seldom shone here

Twilight the best you could hope for

There were no flowers

Just twisted green things

Reaching out

Towards an invisible savior

In that struggle

They were beautiful

There is much beauty here

A daunting will to survive

Which permeates all life

A dour moon

Which paint all in glimmering ice crystals

An incessant breeze

That orchestrates

A heartrending dance

A Landscape

Hewed from Earth’s tired bones

Stabs out at the night

Proclaiming In painful epitaph

“I am Alive“

But here…

There be Demons

Darkness

Eddie Mount — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 17:48:01 +0000

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

The Chrysalis

Eddie Mount — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 21:02:48 +0000

I slithered out of the Chrysalis
The all knowing Raven chuckled
“You have not yet devolved.”
“You will be back”
thought briefly I should snap its neck
But he was stronger than I could ever be.

I parted the veil
And entered the night
Darkness is a gift
To be treasured.
A blanket of false deceit
Truth’s revelation.
The light lies
Darkness knows all

The cold air
Washes over me
A brief stilling of molecular motion.
The caress of an icy hand
Tells me
“Warmth makes you sleep”
“She is the false touch”

The Cold is Dark’s friend
Not so secret lovers
Eternally conspiring

I knew I was trespassing
Treading paths not meant for me
Yet I felt the need
To see
To feel
This abandoned Playground

Sleeping Mannequins
Being recharged
Reprogrammed
New dialogue being written by wraiths
Their toothless smiles planning new heartaches
A child will be raped on this stage
A human heart will stop beating
I could not stop it
Tears froze

I slithered back into the Chrysalis
The all knowing Raven chuckled
“I knew you would be back”
“You have not yet devolved”
I wanted to snap its neck
But he was stronger than I could ever be