|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
jejuneand I was smiling like a bellboy in the backseat of your sportscar
with my skirt hiked up to high heaven
and you pulled bread from out of an envelope
I asked you why you had it
and you said you were the farmer around here
as you poked a needle in your arm.
and we drove away in a racecar
to uncross my legs ...
frogShe imagined how it would be
He'd put the ring in her turkey dinner
And she'd pull it out with a smile on her face
And lay it on the napkin beside her plate.
She'd kiss the frog and get the prince
And they'd have chocolate angel food cake for dessert.
She found a hair in her turkey dinner
She pulled it out, frowning at no one.
She cried into the napkin beside her plate.
She cursed the prince into a frog
And ordered two angel food desserts
"and keep them coming, waiter"
titleOFF THE OFFSPRING
The marching sang down from afar
They broke down doors not left ajar
The wagons were filled
With bodies to be milled
Most of them kids wearing stars.
Four spokes painted on their breasts
A semi-automatic strapped to all of their chests
Lips made for walking
Hands made for talking
Boots made for stomping out pests.
The smell of burning flesh is as familiar as home cooking
He conducts the mangled frowns to the oven without looking
Afraid to refuse
He lights the fuse
And mutes out the screams with his singing.
He sits guarding the iron doors on a chair
Waiting for the burning to dwindle in there
Obedience without borders
The fire stops, they give the orders
For him to sift through the teeth and the hair.
They stand naked in a shivering line
The men in boots take their surveying time
Then once engorged
They stick in their swords
And explode time after time after time.
The sun bakes the icy cadaver-soup
Tangled limbs express distress, but
untitled as of yetI went walking in the garden
To pick flowers for myself
I came upon a pretty one
And picked it for myself.
The gravel path did shake
And reeds and vines did divide
The stone wall collapsed
And I saw what was on the other side:
A world of black and white and red
Bullets punctuated every brow on every head
Skyscrapers dictated skyline sublime
Wrapped in clouds as thick as time.
And while all this ceased to unfold
I peered down at the flower that had now grown cold
It melted to syrup and dripped like oil
Down to the ground to soil the soil.
So as I waited for my own due destruction
I plucked the only flower left, hiding under my shoe
And as I rose to my feet all I saw was undone
Because I picked the flower for you.
old nickdo your palms hurt from dealing out too many soldiers?
your nails are splitting
scratching too hard, digging too deep
for a path to the pit when we're already in it.
you don't even recognize your own living room
even with your pitchfork propped next to your broom.
the fires are burning too hot
the waters are climbing too high
the houses are breaking too fast
nothings made to last
and yet you keep at it:
something pleaseI cant stand the smell of my room
wet and thick
I hate clothes
fuck Adam and Eve and their modesty
I hate my stupid friends
who talk about nothing to no end
that make me laugh
but never question
im sick of my mom
and her endless self-help-book suggestions
and papa's comatose relation
all with good intentions
I don't want to sleep in anymore
I don't want to settle any old scores
or make new ones for that matter
small talk is such a chore
their problem's such a bore
I want to pull up their zippers too high and stick gum in all their leaky pores
im sick of opening and closing doors
that lead to yellow brick roads back to home
there are no forks in my path
just redundant street lights like a crowd of prison guards cheering me into the electrical chair.
im sick of brushing my hair
painting my face
just to prolong and oblong his ugly aftertaste
puking my guts out on the sidelines of the rat race
wiping my mouth with the back of my hand
and hoping no one noticed
im sick of individuality and i
the dotted yellow lines make one loooooooong arrow
to what? I don't know
but green said go
and I havent stopped yet
the bordered road signs are one biiiiiiiiiiiiiiig blur
but I wont slow
im getting too close
and I havent stalled yet
the cars along side me now join the huuuuuuge pile of behind
but I don't care
they pushed me this far
im climbing close to 200
and I havent stopped yet
the cliff's soooooooo close I can feel the fall
I close my eyes
no one's ever felt this ready
breaks make one loooooooud screech
I peel my fingers off the wheel
I hadn't first thought of what would happen
if hell found me
underwaterwe must have been underwater because the cars kept driving by
the stones stood, humble
angels carved into their sides
flowers growing guiltily
people plant them as they cry.
this place is always empty
but this is where they come to pray
and maybe its cliche
but this is where we come to play
where we come to bury the day.
look into eachother's eyes
and ask rhetoric questions
under our breath, between our sighs -
like 'what's so big about the sky?'
and 'where do we go when we die?'
tonight we sat in the cemetery
and didn't dare ignore the sounds
of crickets tattling on us ...
I think we all agreed that death belongs underground
Terylene BallerinasOut come the Dacron royalty
wrapped in rings of ribbon.
spotlights direct the ogling crowd
to the polyester women.
Terylene ballerinas with limbs of paper-maché
crayoned rayon-cotton blends sport arrogant pliés.
rouge smiles that cry out flamboyancy
hide plasticine-induced buoyancy.
The men in the front row point and wink
and lick their lips and fingertips
and the ladies see who the night will be
the secret creed
that came with the job.
sucking and cringing their way to the top.
There go the warriors of excess
coated in thick acrylic.
floodlights expose their flowers-
because it's oh so chic.
Passively posing mannequins
not worth what their milked,
dying on the runway,
tongue-tied with silk.
Keep in Touch!
scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More