01-11-05 | Goosebumps - Page 2

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Thread: 01-11-05 | Goosebumps

  1. #11
    He's twisted, crawling, craving,
    Too weak to hold his teeth.
    They teeter, totter, tower over
    And kick and scrape while his jaw is ground hard into harsh concrete
    Relentless forced down like a vice.
    They smile, these people
    As they take his life.
    Eat me

  2. #12
    The Masochist

    "It won’t last forever,
    Someone’s life must be severed,
    And surely it won't ONLY be my own.
    I don’t know why you’re crying Jeremy.
    This isn’t quite like the hell you made of my life.
    Although you won’t live long enough to experience my pain.
    I’ll be with you, so don’t worry about being lonely in hell,
    Maybe this will ring a bell–
    ‘Tell the freak he can’t sit down if he asks.’--
    Yeah, I heard that.
    You thought I didn’t care about being accepted,
    You also didn’t think I would care about the spitballs in class,
    I’m not going to masochize anymore with rubber bands,
    But it all boils down to this: now your life is in my hands."
    He quietly slipped the glock out of his left pocket
    And held it up to Jeremy’s temple whispering,
    "I hope you’ve enjoyed making my life a living hell,
    Because now I’m sending you straight there."
    He fired the gun directly into his forehead.
    Sitting there with a face of guilt and dread
    As everyone ran screaming,
    He quickly aimed the gun into his mouth
    And fired once more----

    ---I dont know how scary that one is, much less if its even a poem, lol. I gave it a shot. I'm not a poet, I just thought I'd try poetry for once and enter it into here. Like the original post said "I have nothing to lose". Well, I hope everyone likes my poem.

    Last edited by NatureHoldsAnswers; November 18th, 2005 at 07:47 AM.

  3. #13

    The Man in the Mirror

    Off Topic:
    Almost didn't make it!!!

    The Man in the Mirror

    The shower-
    A supposedly perfect haven
    A place to wash away all fears,
    troubles, doubts
    But do watch out
    Furtive footsteps are not audible
    Over the roar of the fan.

    And surprises do lurk
    Behind cloudy mirrors.
    Who could be behind this door,
    But a crazed man
    With a gleam in his eye
    And a gleaming knife in his hand?

    Hope you run fast in a towel,
    I've been told that a knife slicing through
    not butter--
    Is just no fun at all.
    My aim is to put down on paper what I see and what I feel in the best and simplest way. --Ernest Hemingway

  4. #14
    Sleepless nights draw you to find
    A place that's long weighed on yur mind
    Familiar plots that lay confined
    By iron gates and stone cold shrines

    Fond thoughts this place does not remind

    Recall every grinned goodbye
    Clear as tombstones to your eyes
    All the friends that had to die
    All the guilt that you deny

    Cool corps lips beg silent whys

    Faceless bodies; not but names
    Peeling statues can not blame
    Time forgives; you'll outlast pain
    You leave this place just as you came

    Their whispers peirce you all the same

    Thoughts and conscience start debate
    wondering who deserves this weight
    The mind suggests, the mouth restates
    Hollow words, "that's not my fate"

    The dead just smile and simply wait

    Walk on swift don't terry long
    Your time's been wasted in their bonds
    The dead stay dead, the past is gone
    The graveyard's not where you belong

    Lifeless lips mouth words "you're wrong"

    You start away drenched in the moon
    Every step craving more room
    But guilt's a thought you wont let bloom
    After all - their only tombs

    An icey breath sounds "see you soon"

  5. #15

    Of Thoughts Alone

    Of thoughts alone on darkling night
    In house of stone and candlelight,
    Persistent clock and seeds I've sown,
    Amid bits of rock and shards of bone.

    Still I hear the thund'rous crash
    Through burning tears and smoke and ash.
    Within tumbled hill and tangled rope
    Lay buried Jill and desperate hope.

    Frenzied I leapt and began to mine,
    With hands inept, sought belaying line.
    High rose the moon to light my task
    If only to exhume was all I could ask.

    Two days I lingered, working the rubble.
    My blood raw fingers now numb from trouble.
    When on the third night, the moon did set
    My hope turned to fright; I collapsed and wept.

    Fatigue then took me and ended my chore
    But "Too early," said she (my weakness I abhor)
    After sleep without rest found I the cruel sign
    Beneath my breast lay Jill's cold hand in mine.

  6. #16

    Refrigerated Nights

    It was much a night like this

    When the darkness wrapped around me in cool comfort

    The time clock nattered away

    Waiting for its oak tag deposit

    I started my job, with much the same aplomb,

    The way I often do

    The morgue was cool and cautious place

    The smell of antiseptic battling the smell of death.

    When they brought in the latest victim

    She had auburn hair

    That lie on the gurney, spread about in casual beauty.

    After signing, they left her to me.

    Slot twelve was opened

    Or perhaps number five

    Never the type of choices

    For those not alive.

    I saw, for a moment, impossible


    Her hand clenched in response to the pain

    Her eyes moving beneath the lids.

    I had to move quickly, to save what was right.

    I grabbed the book end from the table

    And smashed her head in.

    She was dead after all.

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