Bantering with Octagons

[freescorfr]

Lead me, then, that inner self
Once dense, dull and malleable,
Like my intrapersonal dialogues
In the dark night of my soul.

Listening to exchanges between my heart and mind and mind and heart, I eavesdrop, enlighgtened: in wonder at this mysterious complexity of self.

Clarifying, I am sometimes a particle, or atom, or molecule, or cell.
Always searching to combine or separate, successions of either being my life.

 

[cymbidia]

Clarifying, speechifying, tiring myself out on the mundanities.
When will it be my turn to play?

I am so often a moderator these days.
I moderate this and that in my life, offline and on, internally and ex, intrapersonally and inter. I intervene in life's rich tapestry until i'm tired of sewing, tired of mending, tired of doing the right thing, tired of taking shit, tired of being tired.

Actually i just want to play.
Can i blow bubbles now?
Run through the sprinkler?
Stay up too late giggling and eating popcorn with my friends?

Can i swing way up high and pretend i'm a bird?

I like birds.

 

[Svedish_Chef]

There are so many unconcious floyd metaphors in her bantering I think I was slipped acid.

I'm feeling weak now, (why wont you talk to me)

 

[sigh]

carried aloft in the talons of an eagle
last flight
soon to die
torn to shreds to feed her brood

birds
inheritors of the destiny of dinosaurs

wings
i want wings
to fly in body as my soul flies
to soar through clouds and challenge the sun
to make love in freefall
spinning
dropping
thousands of feet

to have afterglow in flight
how amazing that must be

 

[freescorfr]

Freefall afterglow.
The trick is not to "Thud!"
Gravity relentlessly tugs like a child needing an ice-cream.
Most infra-cuisine replaces dessert with cheese.
My child is torn between his mum and me:
I offer him poisoned honey.

 

[cymbidia]

Honeyed words, poisoned with a suface layer of sweet irresponsibility, dulls the reality, impedes the intensity, and makes a lie of our truth.
Fuck that bullshit.
I'll scream and rage and poke the fucking sleeping serpent before i slip quietly into the helplessness he desires of me, the impotency he wishes on me.
Such is my way.

 

[Dillinger]

Raging impotent bull-shit
wages of sin-shit
pages of life-shit
cages of parrot-shit
Peeple of ze wurl, relax!

 

[sigh]

a fist of shit
slams home
careening across my brow
bloodied eye
dripping feces
brings a snarl
and a touch of froth
to my lips

keep your shit
or at the very least
leave it elsewhere, please
for i've no need of it
(i've more than enough of my own)

but thanks, all the same

 

[TheDR4KE]

eight is the number

to be ant
or
not to be ant
ant eater?
what key are we in? wait!
what key are we in?
be ant eater in G

today's episode of lit is brought to you by the key of G and the number (1 2 3 4 5 6 7) 8

Quack

the D (who's bantering with Octagons)

 

[cymbidia]

The slam of a door, propelled by the sudden heat of anger, reverberates through the empty places in her soul. Glowing with sullen resentment, she digs weeds, yanking them from the moist peace of the earth and tossing them without care to die in the radiant warmth of the July sun, overrun by ants.
Anger glows.
So does the sun.
So does her ass, on occasion.
So do smiles.
So do the stars in the calm night sky.
Not all glows are created equal.
Go glow
Go glow
Rah rah rah!
Take a bite
Feed your spite
Sis boom bah!

 

[TheDR4KE]

That was very cool. I hope you'll work it up into a poem you'll submit.

quack,

the D

The slam of a door, propelled by the sudden heat of anger, reverberates through the empty places in her soul. Glowing with sullen resentment, she digs weeds, yanking them from the moist peace of the earth and tossing them without care to die in the radiant warmth of the July sun, overrun by ants.
Anger glows.
So does the sun.
So does her ass, on occasion.
So do smiles.
So do the stars in the calm night sky.
Not all glows are created equal.
Go glow
Go glow
Rah rah rah!
Take a bite
Feed your spite
Sis boom bah!

 

[Svedish_Chef]

Take a bite
Feed your spite

Buiilding on it
I hate tonight
Forcing the world down
Flush it all down
Crush it all down
Move it all away
Fuck it all off
Enough

No more

No

 

[sigh]

no
more
tears, please
or aching
or lonliness

i'm here now
if you need a shoulder
to dampen

rocking my child in a wooden chair before a fire
as he whimpers
with quivering lip
and a lost look in his eyes
i sing nonsense songs
soft songs
any song
and at long last
he sleeps
quietly
again

i miss that little version of my boy
these days i can only climb into his bed and hold him close
(because he'll always be my little boy)


i'll hold you too, if you think it'll help

 

[Dillinger]

missed
but not gone
not really not truly
energy
all energy
everything
forever

achenomore
nevermore

Ah I am become a poem
But not a banter
a banter would da da
Ma Ma
Moo moo

 

[patient1]

A quack- quack here.
And a quack- quack there .
Here a quack ,there a quack.
Everywhere a quack attack.

 

[TheDR4KE]

A quack- quack here.
And a quack- quack there .
Here a quack ,there a quack.
Everywhere a quack attack.

You rang .. er ... quacked?

the D

 

[sigh]

the quack whistled loudly
to any who were near
then ran away screaming
that for just a buck
one buck, mind you
this little potion can cure all evils

like lice
and consumption
plague too
and black lung disease

and when the lung came crrrrrawling
trailing slime in its wake
the blonde girl screamed
and her boob fell out of her halter
and every guy at the bar
had one more round
on her

so to speak

 

[cymbidia]

Her Majesty's a pretty nice girl but she doesn't have a lot to say...

round in circles we often spin
wound so tightly
twirling like straws
we try and test and tidy thoughts
we fear and chase and open up
we love and laugh and eat ice cream
we share and care and dry our tears

and in the end
the love you take
is equal to the love you make

 

[Black_Bird]

Spinning thoughts like cards being thrown one by one at a blind folded man drinking cancerous poisons.

I was once awake.

 

[cymbidia]

Octogonally awake
i look blearily at the quick flick of the screen and realize that
...i...need...to...sleep...pretty...damn...soon...
so i can be all refreshed and awake and alert and brighteyed
and bushytailed (oooooh! sounds kinky! i like it!)
for tomorrow
today
but i haven't slept yet
tomorrow

oh fuck it.
good night.

 

[GreenEyedGirl]

Good night.
Good Night.
If the night is as good as it is deep, then let all of the stars guide my path through this consciousness.
Good Night.
The royal gloaming floats through the air, wrapping around the world like burn-out velvet, settling down to cool the heated pavement and concrete.
Good Night.
I would make it good through definition if I could, but the night is not ours to define. It simply is. As we are.

 

[Dillinger]

Perchance to dream
of wicked octagons
this way come

Farting is such sweet sorrow

 

[freescorfr]

Sweet dewed rubs.
There's the "Aye", we dream of,
Perchance.
I can't imagine dreaming in a sleep of death.
My dad died a year ago today.

 

[cymbidia]

My brother died last month almost 20 years ago.
What kind of father would he have made, i wonder sometimes, that 18 year old boy?

They leave holes
Those who leave us behind.

I am sorry.

 

[Wolf_Song]

Unto beyond nights light
E'er thoughts in flight

Bequeathed of love
Baring not to shove

Nor to have torn away
Never truly to sway

Other than to perceive
Lifes love we receive

Sorrow so blue
Ever delights true

Memories forever
Lifes endeavour