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...and so we travel onwardsAnd so we travel onwards, to the high seas and the cliffs. And so we voyage forth, to see behind the myths. Of ogres and giants and big malicious dragons....and so we travel onwards
Of little boy soldiers who get imprisoned in dungeons.
We’ll walk past the books and all the farytales. We’ll flounce past the princesses and tropical blue dales. Boy, I will take you to a bigger place, A better, a dreamy, a fabulous place, I know not of where this is. But we will travel onwards to the high-seas and the cliffs. And voyage forth to see things greater than the myths.
by ~drainpipeblues
Mistaken Identities,False HopeSpeak a little slower The words are stuck on the pavement Travelling south to the hillsMistaken Identities,False Hope
What did I miss I said Lets jump into the river Its cold from the snow
Whats your name? You were like my imaginary friend In the dark watching me Unlike all these other spies Calling me quietly on the phone But now Just sick stained carpets in your apartment I thought you’d remember
Just reassure me Who are you? Have some more coffee What is your purpose? Ground yourself
Is it true? You hate your children
They remind
by ~drainpipeblues
UntitledSolvent abusing teens,Untitled
Drowning in self-depression, Self inflicted pain, The needles of rage which pierce through the “tough” skin scarred from emotional pandemoniums.
Blinded by frustration, That started with nurturing love,
Addiction to discover new pain threshold, And letting the sadness of their world bleed out. The fear of dying is extinguished by the fuel of excitement that burns, “what if” they say.
As if death is just another new adrenaline-junkie obsession. Alcoholic acid that tangles real and imaginary into one, Burns and scolds away the
by ~drainpipeblues
The WallTHE WALLThe Wall
On this night, I fear the most,
My wall is staring at me. Its thick white paint
So unevenly spread
Engulfing the life from my cell
And on this night I stare back,
Blankly to the blankness Smudges of memories Scratches of past Engraved on the infinitive empty, Which so coldly sits here with me
Mesmerized by each bump and dent, I fall into the trap. I am eaten alive, Becoming part of it. Morphing, conjoining apathetic misery
And who knows
Maybe I have always been part of it Maybe I am
by ~drainpipeblues
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: tokyo/london
- Interests: music, literature, writing, drawing, painting, sculpting, thinking
- Favourite movie: american beauty
- Favourite band or musician: too many to bother typing out.
- Favourite genre of music: mostly rock, industrial, progressive, trance, drum and bass, occasional indie.
- Favourite artist: anotny gormley, alex grey, gunther von hagens,HR Giger,Louise Bourgeois, Zdzislaw Beksinski and Dali
- MP3 player of choice: ipod
- Email: writemeapoem@hotmail.co.uk
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We scratch our eternal itch
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