| centipede |
[Jan. 15th, 2007|11:04 pm] |
The centipede on tracks
With wheels for feet
And amber headlights for feelers.
The path is set
The flow is steady
And the clicks run ahead of the antennae.
Days are in painful, florescent bursts.
People fill his aching belly.
He rolls back into the yawning comfort of night.
It is damp and heavy.
He is omnipresent and cyclical.
The rain runs down his metal and glass armor.
The feelers seek out what he already knows.
The feet roll along the path always taken.
He is tied by invisible thread to the clocks.
And the people are flowing.
The fill and leave him
Much like they fill and leave each other.
No appetite is ever satiated
Through mechanisms such as these.
And the feet pitter-patter, clickity-clack on. |
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| (no subject) |
[Feb. 14th, 2006|10:32 pm] |
I want to climb up to moon on a ladder of rope
And watch the earth tumble dry to sleep
Let's make angels in the dust on a crater slope
We'll sink down twenty years deep.
I think on the moon it'd be like we're under the ocean blue,
Where the sound is muffled and sweet
not done yet.
<22 |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 8th, 2006|06:53 pm] |
Last Song
Where upon the last star blurred
I ran my dreams, onward they spurred
Past my darkened sunlight last
Time rips carrying to the past
Scent of dust all left behind
Not quite there, still state of mind
Burnt earths tacked on satin walls
As the last crinkled comet falls
Ebony tapestry splattered with pinpoints of light
And swirling orbs hover in well-patterened flight
Soaring beyond the black hole and holds
We've shattered all the classic molds
Sweeping the last nebula, heading past yestereday
Tomorrow's last we leave behind,losing today
Bent into the wind unbearing
Cold and vacant, not caring
And the last shadow creeps behind
The cracked moon, as we at long last find
The ever sought-for
Silence.
Hypocrit
That i am
A mask maker
A mask wearer
That i can
A lie taker
A sorrow bearer
Two faced
Mirrow cracker
Hiding cowardice
Not common place
A lazy slacker
If the charm is thrice...
A hypocrit.
And that i am.
-bobally |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 25th, 2005|02:03 am] |
One Week.
And this sour vibration
An insult tumbling from your lips that haven't stirred
A mental citation
Same lips that have so quietly drawn out romantic lures
Now move infinite cosmos inside me
With a gargoyle's pose
Unrelenting miserable verbal celebiacy
Leaving me only to suppose
A loathing too vast for any other expression.
One Day.
Flung, outspoken and vibrant into the rioting daylight
Careless, dauntless, fearless, flauntless
Yet with a stinging pride that rockets lesser egos out of orbit
A surrouding aura of Olympian proportions
Sweeping in a warm warp all around
Till all is drained out
But you. |
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| Airport Goodbyes |
[Oct. 30th, 2005|12:39 pm] |
Lost a little late in the sheets
Stroll to the farewell we're dreading
Where running mascara and noses meet
And over cheeks tears are sledding
A cacophonus roll of jet engines beat
Sunk down so deep in sunshine bedding
Makes me numb to the goodbye's heat
Went to Africa in my dreams
Bit off my fingernails over the lions tigers and bears
Jumbled the words to lose their means
For extracting the Pacific from eyelid tears
Good for the grin that the sky leans
By for the hours spent basking in our youthful summer fears
Longing a little for the next hello that teems
On the edge of the smile you wear. |
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| Welcome to the Valley. |
[Sep. 7th, 2005|02:59 pm] |
The ravines grow deeper
Sprouting fresh crevices,
Populating the walls with wrinkles
Infinite and wicked.
The orb is a hollow bitter orange
The color of cadaverous fruit
Thrusting merciless waves of loathing
Into the open, ebony arms
Of the pavement.
Dry, snapping grains lodge in every pore
Skin is tortured to suffocation
Deja vu and the daydreams blur relentlessly
Till the only salvation and salvating thoughts
Are reduced to
WATER. |
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| Valley Summer |
[Aug. 14th, 2005|01:49 am] |
Blindfolded on a staircase
With blue high heels and mascara
An honest-to-God nutcase
Three high windows, stained glass
Let in an overdose of sunshine
The cars slink by, shaking the overpass.
They're in the front seats
Driving on the wrong side
X & Y runs to match heart beats
Bleach from the sky consumes
Tickling tongues of flame
To live in the valley it dooms
And we stretch with the blushing fronds
Uncurling slowly to curiousity's irrestable invites
To conjoin overwhelmingly tightening bonds
We will burn too.
I'm trying to write again.
I've really lost it. Makes me sad. |
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| Focus |
[Jul. 14th, 2005|12:13 am] |
Focus on the letters
Try to make them lay still
Put the words back together
And maybe the puzzle will follow
If you can't breathe too well
Pick out your favorite constellation
Say the name thirty two times
Till you can hold it inbetween your teeth
The big picture is beyond this view
And it's so hard to focus when
You're lying on the canvas
Paint splatters on your cheek
We'll fight a war
With rubber band guns and plastic surgeons
Let's put on a show, add a little confetti
Just tell them you forgot to stop AIDS
Cause you were smoking pot.
Of course
They'll be dead by then. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 1st, 2005|08:53 pm] |
The kamakazie seducer
Leads him to her own execution
A suicidal revolution
Makes love by candlelight
By poisins bright
Not for crystal, coke, or cash
Or a Bond movie, for an information stash
It's to buy his wings
Nail a halo over the thorny crown
Negotiate with a lost cause, a lost God
And make the manna and honey rain down.
-haven't written in forever. Need to get back in the swing.
<3 |
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| *Jazz man* |
[Apr. 6th, 2005|08:29 pm] |
An eloquence of the saxaphone
in a new step
A slip and tap with a variation pleasing
To the senses
A fedora tipped at a sixty degree angle
To match the weather
Cardinal feather embedded in
the brim
With a set of ivories behind polished lips
And at well-conversed fingertips.
Dabbing a glance at the crowd of
toe tappers
He snaps up his collar
operates on Charles and Crawl
Leaves appendages supplicating
and a candlelit flood on the floor. |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 6th, 2005|09:53 pm] |
I tried to write happy. It just won't happen.
I wish I could write the music in my head in here. Splatter the page with ink blotts that run into your eardrum and bounce back with a melody to make you sleep so sweetly. Belittle Bethoveen with the notes screaming softly in the back burner of a melodramatic teenage catastrophe. How many brain cells do we waste waiting? Drugging? Loving? And hoping not too many in the crowd see past the makeup that melts in the spotlight.
Enough of that.
Simply put, you are a beautified entity waiting to tumble off that parental pedastal, woven from the womb. You banter back with hormonal rage and undeveloped brain waits to meltdown. You are young, you are fearless, living off verdant naive instinct. Crazed for comfort and company, keeping only textbooks and a pipe at one's side for fear of exile. Some choose to run the fast and high paced techno beat box boozed up bitten through road the "adults" know all too well. They live it, with a highball in their hands and bottle in the other, constantly pouring out the poisin some stake their lives by.
Done. Doing. Dwell.
love&peace-Ally |
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| A few hours |
[Feb. 25th, 2005|11:11 pm] |
El caminos rush by
Rays emit softly in though tinted windows
At a drive thru on a Saturday
Whittling away at an hour
Watching the pieces tumble
And
Walking down empty sidewalks
Penetrated gently by streetlights' orange haze
With a chocolate milk in hand
And not another soul
Only cars, mechanical hums of houses
Homes
Rooftop conversations encompassed by cigarette smoke
And blankets hold the moment closer |
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| high school |
[Feb. 25th, 2005|10:55 pm] |
The words wound up like the first pitch
Thought to be an explicit explanation
But merely another another lolling head hung tight
With you sitting cross-legged at their dangling feet
Watching the colors bleed in with a sunset style
You've caught the drift and like a dead fish
Gone with an eager flow
Dragging you into a rapid firing squad
Melding into the faces like one epidermic monstrosity
To gain a slice of acceptance |
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| AIDS |
[Feb. 22nd, 2005|06:24 pm] |
Call back the riff raff
We're combating infanticide
Old hags break backs, cackle and laugh
She watched him walk away, sighed
He never looked back, and died
The babies' cries echo echo
Disease eats at their insides
Bred by hormones, sex sex sex
A carnal hunger rages, dormant lies
Contemplating
Call back your ex
You need to feed that animal urge
Driving your lexus
Gobbling up with your xbox a power surge
Drop a dollar, don't give a damn
Knock knock at three am
It's the grim reaper, eyelids slam
And end the cyclical process again
You commit genocide
With nickles and dimes
Erotically
Now he's six feet under
And she's stuck in traffic
Behind a cherry red pick up
Burning ben franklin with a gas guzzler
And the baby is in a jar
Dusty and crinkled
Little toes and blonde hair gone gray.
She's dishwater colored
With ten years weighing down
Pale lips
Will you ever make it end? |
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| Color draws attention. |
[Feb. 3rd, 2005|08:10 pm] |
Red rum on your wrists
The lines crisscross
Figure eights
A date too late
Orange juice stains the carpet
Running in between the fibers
Spells out my name
Everything's inane
Yellow chrysanthemums are in your arms
Petals soak the ground
Gathered to a peak by your feet
Your words hit harder with each beat
Green beans on summer nights
Beneathe star scarred skies
On peeling porch stairs
Gazing into headlights of cars
Blue souls congregate in a bar
Drinking vodka tonics
You've got your ring hand
Resting on a cup of a powerful brand
Violets at your grave. |
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| .mouse trap. |
[Feb. 2nd, 2005|07:19 pm] |
Snap back
Mouse trap poised for action
Caught red-handed
Apprehended for innocense
No crack just back
Bone
And no one's home
So she's in her underwear
Blaring Manson and Mozart
She breaks her own heart
Takes the clocks apart
Runs the race backwards to start
On the lunar eclipse
She's poised
A finger tip on the sun's rim
Cinders consume the digits and appendages
And the moon ate her soul. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 18th, 2005|09:53 pm] |
She's got the neck inbetween her finger tips
The red wine slips back and forth against the glass
Waves ripping against the rocks call her name
With a pack in her pocket, and the ignition in hand
Pondering the very stark brink.
She's got the smoke inbetween her maroon lips
The red words slide against her teeth, trippingly grate against her tongue
Jeans with embers pressed into the shins
Wondering if she should try to think
She's got the wheel inbetween her knees
The red ideas slosh around against her skull, aggravating comprehension
Winds with ill tidings and music in their intent
Bid her run out with screaming wheels, left in hot agony
And she's gone. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 17th, 2005|11:11 pm] |
I need help by the way. I need something new to write about. I'm out of ideas and no one comments anymore. So pleaseeeee help.
I love you.
- ally grace |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 17th, 2005|10:43 pm] |
I guess I just wanted to say I love you and capture a moment when I'm perfectly happy for some reason or another and it feels so good.
God I'm so happy.
I love this.
much<3- Ally |
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| .growing. |
[Jan. 10th, 2005|01:09 pm] |
Fork in the road
Splices personality
And a black and white mirage
Shaped like last Tuesday
Evokes a storm of conundrum
Blind to every in retro moment
En route to the four corners of the world
To the suicide
The edge
Strung out past recognition
Swollen to disposition
Rotting inside the womb
A embryonic trajedy
That would've made Shakespeare verdant
Now when a decade slips by
He's dying and she's just begun
The cruelty of humanity and God
With hands to dictate and point out flaws
She can feel her skin wrinkle and her hair gray
Sight goes a shade of old
And she's gone down her road
With a nonchalance of aged wine.
-me
comments if you can?
much<3- Ally Grace |
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april18th's journal