Something slips, I shudder,
Shrinking from the crowd
Drawn by the subtle noise;
Troublesome are the thoughts
In the dead of night
Of bodies lying nearby.
EveningThe capillary rasp of tongues,
I know nothing but chattering
As warm air trades its place with young;
A shiver starts resurfacing
Within the walls of little lungs.
I know nothing but chattering,
Wintery gust I taste your braid;
A shiver starts resurfacing
As degrees fall in centigrade,
The weaving wind is circling.
Wintery gust I taste your braid
Within the walls of little lungs,
As degrees fall in centigrade
The capillary rasp of tongues
Will end all things that I have said.
Bad ConnectionUploading the art, in stops and starts, my patience departs
Like fractured quartz; these megabytes fail, and derail,
And e-mail never arrives. The Internet barely survives,
And gives little when it does, signals caught in the throes
Of unseen static. The hairline havoc and passive panic
Inside, an automatic trigger blown, the seed is grown
In my own anger; but soon the connection cocoon
Will balloon, and new wings this miracle brings.
SubsistenceWhy is it hard to admit you can't?
Can't live here, or you can't go back.
Can't carry the parable's lesson.
Why is it easy to be scant?
Eyes blink open the morning after
The thicket landscape of failures
Is set, yet admission cannot hold
The weight; no truths are a rafter.
Why is it hard to observe and decide?
Can't lay down, or you might lose sight.
Can't sustain like you want to or need.
Why is it so easy to hide?
Pried loose from the soil, small pebbles
Tossed aside; there is no end to
Labor, all is but sown or destroyed.
All green growth is born from troubles.
Genus BetulaLike quarter notes between the solemn face
Recorded there (the birch bark pulled away)
I scratched their names like tendrils carved from lace
The leaves will strut and curl this final day.
The cuffed, loquacious wind has naught to say
Of pink horizons purpling their hues;
The blaze replaced by melancholy blues.
The world already ended (is it known?)
The trees have gone with tempests in the news
Without a sound, eternal flat and brown.
ForensicsIt's maneuvered geometry,
The processes that machines see;
Where years inch by and fluids fall
From invisible anchor, all that mystery.
The thrust out scaffolds and tongues move,
Tidily performing a trove
Of objectives, but none can say
Shadows leave footprints here today, nor can they prove
A careful pandemonium.
The ruby of aluminum
Washed away, but the garments claim
The cluttered pitch of one stain's name will make the sum.
IntolerancePale gray, thinning and thickening,
Your upsurge and subduction sting.
Tectonic plates, your fresh cut
Motion, creases in the rut;
A hollow lava will clash,
Soon to speak to future ash.
Pale gray, thinning and thickening,
Your upsurge and subduction sting.
PhotoshopThe words returned, "not perfect yet",
On my aching eyes it
Highlights, needs less tonal width) "set
the contrast low" the lit
Enough now to meet the edge "no
But I'm not sure...(Undo, undo)
Each pixel can be more
House Of MirrorsA cutting gaze, the self-portrait's stare
Practices mimicry to fool the eyes;
The parts where light plays with air
A sputtering maze of lens and lies.
The foolish guise
Of glass, a lair.
Some are sneaky and stricken with lines
Of deformities, other strangers
Surely surprised; they sway like serpentines
On the run from hidden dangers.
Of see-through signs.
All these eyes, the self portrait's trap,
To see oneself in such ways, a mess
Of oddities within the mind that snap
When revealed; a game of chess
Cruelly skewed, less
Shards through the gap.
Something in the faces, the idealized
Distorted; and someone golden, gleaming,
Their smile leaving something to be surmised.
What is this place? This thing?
I am the changeling,
Twenty-SomethingNo one hand could guide me,
So I searched for several.
Each touch from a new person,
Some hurtful, some gentle.
I am shaped by all I know.
No one standing beside me,
So I looked for shelter.
Than dying out there.
No one thought inside me,
So many at once racing.
I am shaped by all I think.
I am shaped by everything.
I must see the meaning that
No one can, besides me.
Crawling in my forlorn appearance
I hide my soul behind these tattered wings
Tattered and broken as they are
Plucked of light, stained in tears and blood.
In quiet despair upon the cold earth
Smeared in dirt I crouch upon my weary knees
And clutched timidly between my fingers
Rests one last jewel of Hope.
A single unblemished plume plucked
From the silver light of dawn
A feathered ray of light from beyond
To illuminate the void that has me bound.
This precious barb of silk
Once lost as I was and forgotten
Blazes now to immerse me in radiant bliss
To wash away the pain, draw me from the abyss.
So now I fade away…
My tender flesh removed
My shattered wings released
My inner light unsheathed… escapes.
(c)2004 Joseph Palladino
SchoolIt’s like I’m trapped within a cage
The synchronized turning of every page
Being forced to stand on a stage
These people all fill me with rage
“I could easily destroy this place
To find me they would have to chase
I could turn the walls into rubble-”
OH SH-! They heard me! Now I’m in trouble!
The class writing about a book we read
As another part of my soul drops dead
But I’m too distracted by the clocks tick
“Mum I can’t go today, I’m sick…
I'll be the tight, faded T-shirt's you wear
Each random logo changing each year
Messenger bag covered in patches and pins
Slightly greased black hair and blackened rims
PoetryShe thinks the poet is to blame.
She'll damn his words and then his name.
She thinks all poems are a crime.
She'll make him live between the lines.
She'll damn his words and then his name
and eagerly await the shame;
demand his head upon a plate -
she seeks to sentence as his fate.
She thinks all poems are a crime.
They tease with wisdom, then with rhyme -
a poet's final stab at wit,
they make of him a hypocrite.
She'll make him live between the lines
not knowing that the words he finds,
those shifting letters in between
can bring the lady to her knees.
Inflation DayI walked into my room
Pulled out some loose clothing to wear
Then I went into my closet
And pulled out a large tank of air.
I stuck the hose in my bellybutton
I said "This is going to be great!"
I went to the airtank
And turned the knob up to eight.
I felt the air enter my body
I had hoped it would soon
That's when it actually happened
I was inflating like a balloon!
My belly was getting rounder
I poked it once or twice
My whole body was getting enormous
The feeling was very nice.
However, I was quickly losing mobility
I was bigger in width than height
Soon, I was feeling lots of pressure
And my belly feels really tight.
I tried to pull the hose out
Unfortunately, it was stuck
And now I can't move to reach the airtank
Well great, just my luck....
The expanding feeling is just too great
I don't really think I want to stop....
However, I'm starting to feel pretty full
And now I think I'm going to pop!!!!
Kelly's BellyThis is the story of a girl who grew
Her hair was blonde, her eyes were blue
Young and pretty, her name was Kelly
All she wanted was a big round belly
Her friend was smart, made her a pill
One to make her stomach fill
She let the pill slide down her throat
Then felt herself begin to bloat
Next her tummy rounded out
Her cheeks puffed up and made her pout
Her top was stretched, it was too small
to cover her belly, now a big round ball
You'd think she had too much to eat
She could no longer see her feet
She rubbed her belly, felt it grow
Wondered when she'd start to slow
But there was no end to her inflation
Although she quite liked this sensation
She grew to many times her size
And there was panic in her eyes
Her friend realised something was wrong
The pill she'd made was way too strong
As Kelly floated from the ground
Her belly made a creaking sound
Her friend said sorry she had to go
But Kelly was about to blow
Now alone she filled the room
Reached her limit and went kaboom
Creepypasta ABC'sA is for Abby, who has a creepy stalker
B is for BEN, he drowned in some water
C is for Cupcakes, which you'll just die to eat
D is for Dating Game, beware of who you'll meet
E is for Eyeless Jack, he wants to slash you open
F is for Funnymouth, who'll leave your jaw broken
G is for Guardian Angel, he's always with you
H is for Humans, and they can lick too
I is for Ickbarr Bigelsteine, your teeth he will keep
J is for Jeff the Killer, who tells you to go to sleep
K is for Killswitch, a game impossible to find
L is for Lavender Town, the music messes with your mind
M is for Misfortune, a hidden game within a game
N is for No End House, which lives up to its name
O is for On the Bus, you'll be riding forever
P is for Penpal, they can be oh so clever
Q is for Quiet Room, a film with a cursed TV spot
R is for Russian Sleep Experiment, more sinister than we thought
S is for Slender Man, wearing a black suit and tie
T is for Trust, who shall live, and who shall die?
U is for Unbranded Lapto
A bitter bite
Of pale moonlight
A shiver of pain
Beast overcomes brain
Fickle and furry
Through the trees they hurry
Air full of cries
Moon reflecting eyes
Silver and white
Howls in the night
The Raven Metaphor“Oh raven, please take pity, won't you just leave me be
I really am not in the mood for this tonight”
With that the raven for once seems to heed my warning
And from up on my seventh floor apartment takes flight
Between you and me I doubt it was real anyway
Just some lazy, overused and tired metaphor
The dark feathers symbolising the violent mood swings
The pecking beak are thoughts I tried hard to ignore
Oh to live a day without her emotional turmoil
And without her beady eyes watching my every move
It seems misery loves company when no one else does
And although it’s hard to admit it I loved her too
“Oh raven, please take pity, won't you just leave me be
I can no longer stand the din of your deafening call”
With that I'm compelled to try to follow the ravens lead
But from up on the seventh floor I begin to fall
Between you and me I doubt this life was real anyway
Just a series of events sent to confound and confuse
This life leaves no scars from the inter