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Literature Text
Jack was a man, once brave and young
Handsome locks, the smoothest tongue
He came to lead an artist's life
Got neither money nor a wife
Our Jack tries to stand tall
Writes his words on the wall
He sends a wish down the well
Paints another picture of Hell
In this world he's all alone
How to see a light that never shone?
He hears the questions no one asked
To answer them, he grabs the flask
Jack hides in his shelter, still
Thinks he's healthy but he's ill
Somebody is calling his name
It's that devil in the frame
Today what's left is the shack
That once belonged to our Jack
And they who thought his words were small
Now read the bloody writings on his wall
Handsome locks, the smoothest tongue
He came to lead an artist's life
Got neither money nor a wife
Our Jack tries to stand tall
Writes his words on the wall
He sends a wish down the well
Paints another picture of Hell
In this world he's all alone
How to see a light that never shone?
He hears the questions no one asked
To answer them, he grabs the flask
Jack hides in his shelter, still
Thinks he's healthy but he's ill
Somebody is calling his name
It's that devil in the frame
Today what's left is the shack
That once belonged to our Jack
And they who thought his words were small
Now read the bloody writings on his wall
Literature
self-organized
the fatal attraction of civil mysticism and the ingenuity of the perfect aspect ratio fit me into my corner so I could cube myself and bloom under pressure never ending as expected new cubbyholes to place in my belly filled with grief and relief for the mes no one wants to see.
Literature
howl
Howl
Through leagues
Of old and
Proud white oaken trees
Wind
Literature
cycle.
(birth.)
i walk home, crisp shoelaces, bloodied nose
middle of autumn, frothing at the mouth
kids took summer skin too far, brought on apocalypse
i tell myself it will be over soon, wintertime freckles
will be here
incensed
(childhood.)
stove milk and delicate murmurs
the technicolor alphabet teaches itself
purple bowls with animal faces
hospital bracelets around tiny wrists
won’t come loose
mama
(adolescence.)
the clouds are gasoline, wisps of gin, addicted
there is vomit on the floor, new candy sores
sky is burning, orange with hungry flame, vying
i don’t know who to talk to, crying
let me go
alive
(adulthood.)
doctor
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"Write drunk, edit sober" Hemingway said. So I tried it. Not intentionally - I just had a pint and then the inspiration came flowing. Then this morning I changed a word or two, removed a couple of words that sounded just stupid.
Disclaimer: I don't mean to glorify drinking here, it's unhealthy and what not. Always drink responsibly. <i wytiwyg="1">
Disclaimer: I don't mean to glorify drinking here, it's unhealthy and what not. Always drink responsibly. <i wytiwyg="1">
© 2014 - 2024 Vedokun
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Another fav.