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Array ( [sid] => 97064 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => The Lack of Human Existance [time] => 2005-06-06 16:22:59 [hometext] => freeverse with couplets inbetween! for the greatest limiter(?) of life, Sandra Lucille 'Bananahead' [bodytext] => The Lack of Human Existence

In the garret of reckoning the voices knead,
And her five year old skeleton lies,
Painfully under the forces of oppression.
She hears the whispers and listens,
Like no other could.
Soothing, Hypnotic murmurs slip through her mind,
Like paint on a rough brush,
Filling her lobes with bright red-orange.

and then she lifts her head,
done rejoicing the fortunate dead.

The idle oceans that fill her mind,
Mix and churn her ever-living thoughts,
Her ever-breathing limits to life.
Blue orbs that fuel her vision,
Speak screams,
Like no other bacterial infected opening could,
And with her lids shut tight,
Her plates are filled with a deep sigh,
And a longing for the past.

For there are things she wishes she could get,
But she was much happier with no mind set.

She sips anger,
In a plastic cup.
Boiling proportions of pure arrogance,
two cubes of contempt,
a sorrow filled cracker,
and the company of self obsessed peers.
Her emotions are thin lines of protein,
Pulling together to conceal her deficiency,
Her lack of all that is human.

She hides herself with such finesse,
But this is to mark the still birth of her happiness.

[comments] => 2 [counter] => 174 [topic] => 21 [informant] => EmpressTayloria [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 6 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )

The Lack of Human Existance

Contributed by EmpressTayloria on Monday, 6th June 2005 @ 04:22:59 PM in AEST
Topic: Lifepoems

The Lack of Human Existence

In the garret of reckoning the voices knead,
And her five year old skeleton lies,
Painfully under the forces of oppression.
She hears the whispers and listens,
Like no other could.
Soothing, Hypnotic murmurs slip through her mind,
Like paint on a rough brush,
Filling her lobes with bright red-orange.

and then she lifts her head,
done rejoicing the fortunate dead.

The idle oceans that fill her mind,
Mix and churn her ever-living thoughts,
Her ever-breathing limits to life.
Blue orbs that fuel her vision,
Speak screams,
Like no other bacterial infected opening could,
And with her lids shut tight,
Her plates are filled with a deep sigh,
And a longing for the past.

For there are things she wishes she could get,
But she was much happier with no mind set.

She sips anger,
In a plastic cup.
Boiling proportions of pure arrogance,
two cubes of contempt,
a sorrow filled cracker,
and the company of self obsessed peers.
Her emotions are thin lines of protein,
Pulling together to conceal her deficiency,
Her lack of all that is human.

She hides herself with such finesse,
But this is to mark the still birth of her happiness.

Copyright © EmpressTayloria ... [ 2005-06-06 16:22:59]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: The Lack of Human Existance (User Rating: 1 )
by heartless_soul on Monday, 6th June 2005 @ 05:34:21 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Welcome to YPDC I do hope that you will enjoy your self here as much as we will in having you.
this was an interesting poem, it had emotion and feeling in it there were images of lonlyness and sad times, this is a truly good posting and I did enjoy reading it. I get the feeling that there is more that needed to be said but what it said was enough. your choice of words was amazing and done very well. Bravo

*H_S*

Re: The Lack of Human Existance (User Rating: 1 )
by axeman on Tuesday, 7th June 2005 @ 10:39:13 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

great poem. dont stop writing

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