[Inhuman]

Cred Jon Boy for the idea. If the prose/ poetry/ story is too big, keep in mind you can always zip it and attach to your post, or simply use Megaupload

[SpectralJulianIsNotDead]

I don't really like presenting song lyrics without music because it isn't really showing the full picture, and I think lyrics and poetry are two different things, but here are some that I am proud of:

I'm pretty proud of the second verse here, although I am using pretty childish rhyming. This is about a dream I had that made me lovesick the next morning. In the dream I made love to this girl and then felt unable to talk to other women.
Frequency

I've got a feeling and it feels like love
but I've got noone I've been thinking of
wondering if it could be you
washed in memories
alien, blonde, and blue

(Chorus)
Come across the cosmos baby
dream to dream osmosis maybe
yr soul shares something with me
bandwidth, amplitude, or frequency

I took to you like flies to glue
paper that lay on a warm summers day
just like us here aroused yet in fear
that this bond will be forced too long

We watch our words because we feel tied
though I'd be glad to make you my bride
"I can't be with child for one more day"
as I leave, you pray and pray


this 2nd song is sort of a futuristic version of pygmalion with a bad ending. I always thought Greek myths should end in tragedy, not happily ever after. He builds a robot to love him and she crushes him when she embraces him.
Science Fiction
I've traveled from dune to dune
and I've never met a girl quite like you
but that doesn't matter anymore
I've found a new girl to live for me

I'll build her from the parts I salvage
give new life to the death touched wreckage
i'll wire her to hold me in her
arms of steel and copper

(bridge)
she won't see the pain in my eyes
she won't smell the stink of my thighs
she won't see straight through my lies

She'll never leave me like you did
I'll guarantee you that
she'll think of me as God
not as a scurvy rat

(2nd bridge)
When you see me
dead in her iron clutch
you'll pray to God
that you'd taken my ring

[Danny Himself]

I don't enjoy sharing such things either, but here's my lazy attempt at something:

You heard the man
There's nothing to see here
Get back to your TV
Get back to your beer

I know. :/

[alyasa]

Little man
What is wrong with you?
Little man
There is no truth
In time we will be afraid of you
Meanwhile
You are the little man
Does that mean
There should be no hope
Feel inside
Is it empty? Does it,
Need to be?
Filled up with hate?
Hey little man
Unclench your hand

No other day
Is better
than today

Reach out/touch sky/fall down
I am the little man

Hatred grows
Black and all consuming
All it knows
In its darkened hate skin
Machine knows
It is all forever
Though it slows
It never stops to grow

Never the same
Never
We must stay sane

Reach out/touch sky/fall down
I am the little man.

[atari 2600]

I put up a short story (of a sort) over at the old board in the post yr art or die threads. I wish I would have saved it.

I used to have a 3-ring binder full of prose & poems that an ex copped off of me.

[CHOUT]

Here's the lyrics to my silly metal song Dirty Mud, a Burning Candle song. It's about an evil parent who is upset because his child isn't so evil.
you can hear it at
http://www.myspace.com/burningcandle

DIRTY MUD
I LOOK AT YOUR FACE
I SEE THROUGH YOU EYES
I LEARNED THAT LIFE IS
JUST DEATH IN DISGUISE

I REARED YOU FROM BIRTH
TO BE MY WICKED CHILD
MY PARENTING FAILED
CUZ YOU'RE NOT VERY WILD

A DARK FORTNIGHT AGO
I SENT YOU TO KILL
I THOUGHT YOU CAUSED FRIGHT
TILL YOU STEPPED IN THE LIGHT
WHAT I THOUGHT WAS CRIMSON BLOOD
TURNED OUT TO BE DIRTY MUD

I TAUGHT YOU TO KILL
SATANIC SACRIFICE
BUT YOU PLAY WELL WITH OTHERS
YOU'RE JUST TOO DAMN NICE

YOU WON'T EAT HUMAN FLESH
YOU WON'T DRINK VIRGIN BLOOD
YOU JUST PLAY WITH DOOMED BOVINES
IN THAT DIRTY MUD

MY TORTURE DEVICES
YOU PAWNED FOR CASH
YOU THREW MY SKULL COLLECTION
INTO THE TRASH

YOU'RE GROUNDED FROM PLAY
GO PRACTICE YOUR SPELLS
I COMMAND YOU TO SUMMON
THE DEMONS OF HELL

A DARK FORTNIGHT AGO
I SENT YOU TO KILL
I THOUGHT YOU CAUSED FRIGHT
TIL YOU STEPPED IN THE LIGHT
WHAT I THOUGHT WAS
CRIMSON BLOOD
TURNED OUT TO BE
JUST DIRTY MUD

[SpectralJulianIsNotDead]

Cool stuff guys.

This thread needs more mutual masturbation!

[qprogeny79]

i haven't done any writing in forever. this is from a few years ago.


The society of intellectual elites was always taught to think outside the box, and yet every member of that society was trapped in the box. There, in that cramped, dank space, they developed a society in which all could cope with the isolation from the rest of humanity. But one generation, claustrophobic and unable to go on not knowing what went on outside their microcosm of mutual support, broke the box and climbed out. Outside the box, they found that every man, woman, and child who had developed outside the box thought of themselves and only themselves. It would have been far safer to have remained in the box, but, seeing that they must somehow defend themselves from the constant bombardment of closed minds they encountered, they decided to carve small shields out of the wooden shards of the box which offered them so much protection against a world in which the elements, far from being merely physical in nature, tore at the soul far more than the body.

But they found that there were two problems.

The outside world is hell, and wood burns.

[qprogeny79]

another one i just found.


The News of Today

– An unrepentant demigod has claimed responsibility for Thursday’s attacks on Reason. In a statement, it pronounced “revenge for Reason’s atrocities against people of Faith.” The Prime Minister of Reason condemned the attacks, calling them “cowardly acts” but quickly noting that “the criminals of Faith will not frighten us, and we will continue to go about our daily lives.” Some, however, have criticized the Prime Minister for not doing enough to secure Reason’s borders and blaming his policies of placing Reason’s forces in the heart of Faith for inciting more violence against Reason.

[SonikJesus]

Those are pretty damn good qprogeny79. The first one is really good.

[jheii]

i met two girls
on the corner
of peachtree
and 17th street
in Atlanta
the sweaty armpit
of Moloch
we were all waiting
for the same thing
they came from
St Augustine and I
came from Starland
to see the band
they were only
sixteen and
living seemed
so easy for them
we became close friends
and I haven't seen
either of them
since...

[static-harmony]

here is this I wrote

I go in the wind underprepared,
With my wings full of mud,
So heavy with sins I forgot where heaven was,
In your sweet kiss I found a knife hidden beneath your teeth,
And it stabbed you in your molars,
In your sweet kiss I found revenge in my soul,
And it killed your intimate secrets,
In the green field where you gave me your sweet kiss, death dragged me there,
In the form of insects,
Come back from hell dressed in dreams,
Show me some sweet sensation,
Black raindrops don't bring me down,only you babe,
Now I must land, because I am drunk with the colors of your perfume,
And will wait for your heart to replace mine at the edge of the world.

[static-harmony]

here is another one is called eternity

Eternity

I walked through the city streets, lost in my thoughts.
The girl with pink hooves passed me by, she wasn't odd.
That lady with pink streams of tears, never looked so nice.
My brother stretching his vision to eternity, lost in time.
Oh! angel of desertion why won't you pierce my heart?
And drag it through the city, and do your part.
I lie here with no sentiments in space.
And I'll die alone in the vision of my brother, in eternity.

[schizophrenicroom]

"Why do you choose to be the way you are, Keith?"

He put down the copy of The Economist, which he always kept under his paper for when he was finished to show off his 'smarts'. He's not really that bright. He just looks at the paper and pretends to read. He hasn't found out we're not fooled. "I can't help that I take pride in having unconventional ways." A collective sigh.

Kyle shook his head. "What's the point in being quirky? I take pride in being average. I prefer being average. If anything, I think humans need to extol how fucking average they are."


///////
i have a bunch of stuff i've written saved in journals in my room, but nothing digitalized except this fiction/"memoir" i'm writing (it's this long running in-joke with some friends, but i really want to turn it into a book).

[acousticrock87]

I throw songs away half-way into writing them. I just keep the music, in bits and pieces.

My proudest writing was a three page paper on American Pie that I wrote last semester (it was a practice-exegesis paper), which I got 100% on. Unfortunately, it's boring as hell.

[jheii]

Not as good as the other one, which isn't as good as it should be

The bhoddisatva of noise
Walked thru the same
Doors as the rest of us
He was bringing a plate of food
Pasta and baked potato
To the guy behind the merch table
Slid it off to the side
While a girl in red silk
Counted from a stack
Of twenties and ones
Smiled shyly at them both
As she held a t-shirt to her chest
He signed ticket stubs
And shook hands
Smiled and appreciated the same
Compliments that he'll get
Every night of this tour
After that he walked away and waved
To the line of kids
Back at the door

[Gogogonorrhea]

Just now improvised haiku shit:

The words, falling
Lyrically like sighed rain
Is golden la la.

[luxinterior]

Yeah, so, this will never be a 'sticky thread.'

[DemonBox]

I wrote a psycho-thriller short-story about a kid who's working as a engineer at a local-radio station. I'd love to share it with ya, but I dont have the time or nerves to translate it into english.

I love reading yr stuff boardies. Keep it up.

[alyasa]

Here's something I wrote a while ago for a site called everything2.com
Here it goes:

You Know You're Right is Kurt Cobain's suicide note, screamed over and over again to unsuspecting radio listeners worldwide.

In it, he tells a story of a man; here the lyrics are more coherent and structured than in any other of his songs; a man who lives in a world of pain and is surrounded by it in everything he sees. He sees the pain in all human beings and the pain they cause each other. The burden of his insight causes him to realise the futility of his existence and how, it would be a bane to those who love him and care for him, as he could never, at this point, see or feel or understand anything beyond the all-encompassing pain that has enveloped his life. He still recgonizes the dynamics and subtleties of everyday human interaction; but his judgement is clouded by all the hurt that swirls through his life.

He does his best; he knows the people around him might help him if he gave them a chance, if he helped them realise what he realises, without of course alluding to the pain that he knows so well, make them realise without realising the pain. But, he cannot lie and cannot delude himself. He either does not have the neccesary tools of the mind to articulate his thoughts or he doesn't really understand his own thoughts. Or, maybe he just isn't capable of the self delusion; that is so inherent in all of us; which enables us to pretend that everything is fine and nothing really bad has ever happened in this world. Maybe because of this latter, the pain wins over him and he succumbs to it, he relishes it and accepts it. In the course of the song, he comes to terms with it, and comes to terms with how it would forever distance him from all those that he loved, all those he knew and in fact all of the rest of humanity, for those who realise Pain in its totality never seek out company or solace in others like them, they only shun themselves and everyone else, refusing to break the bubble of suffering for fear of propagating that thing which is so dear and near to their hearts, or for fear of their very small worlds being invaded and conquered, or just for fear, pure, cold fear.

This man realises; that whatever he decides is the right thing to do; he cannot escape the harsh reality that has become his world and cannot escape the responsibility that comes with that reality, the responsibilty of making sure that the pain is contained, within him and him only. In the end, when the credits roll, whether he lives his life, or chooses to end it, or escape it; he knows that he is already a martyr and that the weight of all that pain and the responsibility that comes with it, rests solely on his hunched and broken shoulders. The final word screamed in this song is the word pain, its totality and utter finality inescapable to the man whose story is being sung.

In the case of Kurt Cobain, that man decided to end his life and cease the suffering. And in doing so, embraces and contains the pain inside himself, never to be vented outward, forever.