Dark Voices

barbituarate blast

Gurney cuffed and covered
by two too green officers
you cant miss the smell of psychosis
it steeps in pants and reeks of sweaty ass crack

sinewed strained
spittle flecked
spitting curses that have the nurses
scared to test his heart rates beat
cheeks are chewed
eyes dark orbs absorb the light
beam it back in black pupil wide eyed hysteria
some kind of hyena man as laughs bark out

strains at the cuffs that save us
from having him hallucinate
us into a funhouse horror that gnaws
with twisted jaws
at his feet
he beats against the mattress
afraid to rest
lest his mind be hypnotised
by the cries that lie beneath our sight
blood pours from scores
of metal bite laceration
hands red run drips
splatter on the floor

one of the officers
undoes his cuffs
to get him off the gurney
before the doctor could administer
a medical dose of what the fuck
you're scaring us
you need to stop

freed a wounded beast
amongst a flock of chickens
he flew
at the cops with
demons playing tunes in his head
for glory or death knocked them down
with a wailing sound
ground though teeth and pursed lips

hissing like a snake
hands clawed like bear paws
painting a canvass of carnage
he turned his focus on me
his aura pulsed fears grip
adrenal surge

I wrestled with this demon thing
splattered in its blood-bile
its vile vitriol
until the doctors could finally
administer
the barbiturate blast

hazy vision dazed me
as it relentlessly gripped at my throat
I drift off to sleep

the gyprock pockmarked with
pepper dotted scars
a bedroom door squeaks
on one hinge swaying in the aftermath
of a wrecking ball gone wild

small smears appear
streaks of dried burgundy
a face etched onto the wall
its smile runs red rivulets
teeth jagged in its
perpetual humour

how small
it all feels
time laughs a gut busting laugh
the one that has you gasp for air
wheeze in that breath
eyes water
tastes of salt and copper

just another highway marker
sad to say its all been done before

the last time I did Dark Voices
I got called a racist- Fuck Daddy G

twelveoone said:

the last time I did Dark Voices
I got called a racist- Fuck Daddy G

Click to expand...

I wanted to be a racist but couldn't afford the running shoes

Blood drips from wrist
runs a rivulet turn
a pretty pink spiral
down the drain

the gurgle bubbles
garbled sounds mumbled
and you're in too deep

and D

todski28 said:

the gyprock pockmarked with
pepper dotted scars
a bedroom door squeaks
on one hinge swaying in the aftermath
of a wrecking ball gone wild

small smears appear
streaks of dried burgundy
a face etched onto the wall
its smile runs red rivulets
teeth jagged in its
perpetual humour

how small
it all feels
time laughs a gut busting laugh
the one that has you gasp for air
wheeze in that breath
eyes water
tastes of salt and copper

just another highway marker
sad to say its all been done before

Click to expand...

says it's been done before
sad - redundant in context, and leading
sad to say - just trivializes it

var
how small it all
feels in gut busting laugh
that has you grasp for air <grasp, actual reduntancy, wheeze takes care of it, do you want?
wheeze and eyes water
in salt and copper taste

clarification of earlier statement
you are shotgunning sentence fragments, do it too much, it becomes moronic
see I can say this shit to you. you know where its coming from and why
p.s you write too much, take and play

small smears
appear
streaks of dried burgundy
a face
etched
onto the wall
smiles
in red rivulets
or
small smears appear in streaks
etc. etc. and so on
jack the shit around

rule of thumb -3/4 of what you write is garbage
Actually 99% is but I don't want to discourage you, 3/4 of what I write is garbage and another 20% probably doesn't deserve to see the light of day
Now take whoever you think is the best here, whoever, see that 95% - suspect. You just don't see most of it.
Do you
Mr. Jones?

todski,
out of complete and utter boredom this morning I decided to arrange the threads alphabetically, and after several insults decided to actually fuck around with your poem. Because why the fuck not?
best
1201

.....

I agree with your poem completely, trix
So maybe you should see a doctor
Well said

Do you ever hear the echoed screams
of unrelenting dreams
past nightmares that flash
Molotov cocktail bright then
burn a swathe through night time sleep

the heat makes you sweat, the smell of smoke
the tang of melted flesh
the screams high pitched curve balls
how reality blends with the time when
you were dreaming awake
how much closer it is after all you survived
to not existing any more

now sleep is such a fickle lover
her caress is almost a memory
but she comes when I'm most desperate to stay awake

tods, despite greater subtlety, your writes still punch punch punch right to the stomach

trix, wonderful emotional control

.....

Life where is your madness?
Here, here but a world away
where humanitarian
pays the dreadful price
for mans inhumanity to man
Earth cries, her sorrow
the pain too much to bear.
.
RIP David Haines - Lost your life doing good for others!
Served in the RAF as an aircraft technician
Per ardua ad astra
I salute you!

Got hit by a dump truck this
morning
easy as pi
one quick step, and
KABOOM!
I don't even wonder
of he the fuel or his
rusty rocket ship that
jettisoned me deep
into space
But~
does the rain gutter gush
the Cascades, ancient rock
to new born stream?
are the laughing teens
blowing straw wrappers
at the pizza shack?
Oh! Already I miss the fragrance
of cheese melting in brick ovens,
the colour of wildflower mayhem
in April swathe,
the sound of September leaves
rustling in dying amber within
nebulous winds
and the cherry wine taste
of long ago kisses.
I never did take that
balloon ride, learn to sail
or even swim
And now I wonder...
-but no I don't
for here in the potter's field
feeling has fled
wishes are for those
who see candy apple stars
and dreaming remains
among the living.

Actually

I heard a pretty brilliant but disturbing musicbox version of a Pixies song on an episode of Criminal minds recently. It was played over the video images of human beings used as marionettes.

Trixareforkids said:

The tower of song stands quiet
the voices distorted and then stilled
echo nowhere but our heads
their message lost
midst the rubble
carted off piece by piece
to be bartered and sold
in the name of security
the lesson they should have taught
buried or scattered in the changeless wind
of the wolf in sheep's clothing's huffing and puffing
wolf, wolf is the only cry we hear
from the ghostly haunted towers
as we run to our straw houses
and burn the wolf's barrels of fuel

Click to expand...

.....

Kil-Burn summer 1990

asphalt melts in black puddles of shimmering haze
the gaze of two teens rested on
a lonely child as he pedals,
each push clacks a pegged joker
on the spokes of the rear tyre

their approach is a hollering rush
of violence
the bike their prize
the boy cries tears of defeat
as the teens beat his face with fists and feet
he trudges home head down
shuffle steps, tears drown out his sight

where is your bike boy
the gravel crunch speaks in anger incarnate
a sob story told of teens and conflict

you boy are pathetic,
a single slap cracks the boy to the ground
hands scrape on rocky chunks
as knees are ripped in bleeding hunks
a boot to be sure a lesson is learned

turned back out the driveway
screwdriver in hand
get your bike and come back a man

and I only had to stab the first one twice

feel the tingle of adrenaline
pins and needle nerve shocks
as pressure parts soft elasticity
the liquid red merlot
aged 13 years tastes of copper
pain that seeps
it feels better to bleed
than to play the carnival rides
of chaos that wont stop
their continuous scratched loop
skipping disk
atrocities

how they stare
and I don't care

since I need to re-write

I'll drop this here for later work



seasons blur, mingled together
by the scattering of islands adrift
in providence

"providence he spat the word like some curse"
life has shown you get what you get
all that karma malarkey,*
wonder what all the children getting bashed and raped
did wrong to the universe heh
we all need a little perspective sometimes
blunt perspective in the shape of a jug cord
or steel toed boot
yet he makes sense*
or was it just rationalization of whiskey
beer and brutality

the world turns and here we are again
a little older a little more jaded by the way that
it's all made, clichéd and degraded*
first time poison*
well first time taking a direct hit
none of this second hand smoke*
on the path to broke and broken
the family heirloom
of booze and bruises any drug that skims the edge off
pity is like an overzealous carpenter it takes more every time
to plane the edges to find the level*
the house is bending and props*
well they're just a make do aren't they......

autumn is here
its cool crisp air makes the skin feel alive
it rains colours but the walls don't melt
and the trees don't breathe
like they do in acid dreams*
Mind the screams are they mine
mingled like some kind of mess
a child would concoct out of a cupboard
when you're so out of it you can't control your bladder
let alone look after a child

summer again
thoughts of rain long gone*
less clothes though on the women folk
one night stands melt into puddles like ice
left on a bench along with all the dishes*
growing mold cultures*
because that is culture to the bottom rung
sing me a song, sung by the downtrodden
and I'm sure it'll contain anything but spring
because spring is the time the world
says go fourth and multiply
where the weather smiles
and fuck smiling it hurts my face

the past is like herpes sometimes
springs up on you when you least expect it*
brings with it those weeping sores*
maybe not providence
we all have to believe in something though.

** *

Damn Todski, that's a real kick in the teeth! I like it!

No return

A gray bitch dog of a night
the cruel March wind
blows right through you
and if this rain
turns to ice
the street will be
a skatin rink
and I'd have to
take a cab home
if I still had a home.

Blowin into my hands
sippin java
knowin
I passed
the point of
no return
long ago.

Conquistador

(I submitted this in Poetry with Audio.)

Even downpouring water can’t wash the sad away.
Whorls suck in souls with leaves and rush out to sea,
drown bitter tears, dilute them without trace.

No winding road: the polished stone
worn down with time, the common denominator
a multiplier of pain, scrapes rock upon rock, bone on raw bone.

She’s not telling tales: bent over double, screaming sorrow.
Bellows of loneliness turn all away
to stave off contagion. The tourniquet’s her rage.

Loss begets loss, wounds ooze blood,
flesh eats itself, no limits, no sand lines drawn.
No fault, of course, of yours - it’s in her head.

You with your shield and sword and courage
to save princesses and maids in castle towers,
bred with hair down to there,
so you can scale the walls of their desire.

And once you conquer, well - what then?

legerdemer said:

(I submitted this over two weeks now in Poetry with Audio, but it's taking forever to post. Dark Voices seems a good home for it, such as it is.)

Even downpouring water can’t wash the sad away.
Whorls suck in souls with leaves and rush out to sea,
drown bitter salt tears, dilute them without trace.

No winding road: the polished stone
worn down with time, the lowest common denominator
a multiplier of pain, scrapes rock upon rock, bone on raw bone.

She’s not telling tales: bent over double, screaming sorrow.
Bellows of loneliness turn all away
to stave off contagion. The tourniquet’s her rage.

Loss begets loss, wounds ooze blood,
flesh eats itself, no limits, no sand lines drawn.
No fault, of course, of yours - it’s in her head.

How could you help? You’re only human,
with shield and sword and courage sufficient
to save princesses and maids in castle towers,

bred with hair down to there,
so you can scale the walls of their desire.

And once you conquer, well - what then?

Click to expand...

to me it felt like it should be read a bit faster to take advantage of the sonic structure.

todski28 said:

to me it felt like it should be read a bit faster to take advantage of the sonic structure.

Click to expand...

I'll try it, see what it sounds like. Thanks for reading it.