Armageddon?

Not yet my friend. Not yet.

Note to the world: Armageddon…?

You claim the wars,
The innocent dying,
Constitute the end.
You’re wrong.
You say the cruelty,
Barbarism and evil,
Prove the end times.
You’re wrong.
The end: the only explanation of
The outlandish violence,
The drugs and fights…
But you’re wrong.
The blood spilling,

Terrorist activities
Shaking your sheltered life,
Your securities shattered,
The wonton hate and malice,
The pain of the hungered.
Thousands of wars for tar and sand:
All confirm it’s the beginning
Of a most terrible end.
You’re wrong.
When Armageddon is coming,
We will all feel the Wrath,
Chaos will be unending,
The Great City will fall in ruin;

Its twisted carcass, bent and smoldering
Upon the defiled ground.
Countryside aflame with falling fire-
Stars whose light has been
Transformed into shadow.
The day will become night,
And night will become terror.
The very mountains will shake
From the ocean’s fierce beatings.
Rocks will melt, oceans will freeze.
Plains will rise, hills will be leveled.
Rivers will overflow with blood;
Congealing and clogging our

Thoughts and judgment.
Plagues will infest nations,
So numerous they will make
Seven look like a blessing.
Hell will be given free rein on earth,
Compassion will become extinct
Rather than endangered.
Frenzied Horrors will be unleashed
From the deepest, Darkest
Divisions of our imaginations…
Demons from the dankest corners of our
Demented and tortured psyche.
You say Armageddon is here…?

You’re wrong.

Damn Kids

You know what really pisses me off? Its those damn kids with roller wheels in their shoes. They go zooming around, running into stuff - pretty much thinking they are the shit. And their parents always look a little ashamed, like they can't decide how their child conned them into letting them have the atrocious crap laced to their feet. That's what pisses me off. You know what else? Those driscolli strawberry containers that you buy in the supermarket, you know the little plastic carton that hold probably half a pound of strawberries. well, the edges are fucking sharp, and plastic grocery bags just don't like sharp things. why can't they round the corners on the little boxes?!? it would actually save them plastic in the long run... douches.

Why and When

Why And When

As black as a cavern’s deepest chamber,
Confusion spinning my reality,
Hand out groping the wall, eyes dilated.
Truth’s glow blurred by doubts of morality.

Where once rose the sun now hangs a new moon;
The fading light gone with a single blink.
Lost and dazed without anchor or harbor;
Wandering with no thoughts as what to think.

Clubbing in Canada

Club

Beat throbbing
Through me;
Swaying and jumping.
Treble getting lost in bass.
Lights flashing,
Smoke swirling,
Liquor flowing.
Spilt beer and vodka.

Heart rate following
The pounding music;
Thumping and pumping.
Treble getting lost in bass.
Hips swinging,
Arms waving,
Mouth singing.
Sweat and perfume.

Pulse quickening
As the song changes;
Dancing and wishing.
Treble getting lost in bass.
Music blaring,
Ears ringing,
Dawn coming.
Tequila and cigarettes.

New dogs and new tricks

You can always teach new dogs new tricks. And thats the precise reason adults should always put their toys away.

my bleeding mind

my bleeding mind

it is not ours to wonder why
but only to do and to die.
when we tilt our heads to the stars
and see reflected our scars
we understand that we are not
meant to question. our thoughts do rot;
and yea though we always ponder,
ne’er do we know why we squander
time with those we love. let them go?!
for when the blood begins to flow
it is not ours to wonder why
but only to do and to die.

Fire Club Productions

Ladies and Gentlemen:

I doubt this will interest you! But tom-boys and scoundrels, come this way! I am a proud member of what has become Fire Club Productions. It started out as a small group of friends, then it started growing! It soon incorporated a larger group, supported by tens of tens around us. We had become dedicated to fire; we were its creators, its producers, its directors, and we wanted it published. Out first films focused on fire and "breaking stuff" and explosions... then we started branching out. As our organization began to grow, we found we held the interest of talented actors and actresses who now live throughout the Nation, and we used this pool of talents to create films about controversial issues of our time period. During the brief success of this film, we turned our considerable talents towards bigger and better things. We brainstormed for days until we came up with the perfect sequel to our very first film. After multiple experiments to create our props, we were ready to begin filming. However, due to various causes, we eventually conceded to take a break, and reconvene as a filming crew, as a cast, and as producers, again in the summer.

After this brief reprieve, we began creation of our most spectacular film to date. A critic reported it to be "Three thumbs up! That's how good it was!" She went on to say it got "Six stars!" A reporter from The Modern Explosives Film Journal of Canada said it "molded modern explosive issues with technology... to create shards of society that fly at you with incredible speed and determination." Overall, when this film hits the screens1, it is sure to become a blockbuster.

1) In select locations only

Love Grows

Love grows as all things do.
It grows with time, branching out.
The roots sink further as years go by.
It ebbs like an ocean and
Flows as a river within our souls.

As I discover who you are,
It blossoms, and the petals
Encircle us while we dance
To the gentle melody of a
Drizzle falling on a mountain lake.

Love learns to fly just like a bird;
Falling hard but then knowing how
To flap its wings and soar.
It descends on me, a tender dew,
Glistening perfect and pristine.

Written for a friend, they know who they are.

Ended

ended

She stood by his side,
Where the clouds kiss the mountains
They stared, minds numb.
Wind blown slopes.

They embraced never touching,
It will end, she hoped, he cried.
Empty tears from a missing face
Where the clouds stroke the mountains
Wind. Wind blown hair.

She watched as he stumbled,
Down from where the clouds
Never quite touch the mountains.
Unknown, unanswered questions.
Her blank face, cut open by the
Wind. wind… wind blown away.

She didn’t know what to do.
Her shapeless body shivered.
Where the clouds blanket the mountains,
A broken blade of grass lay on the rock
Wind. Wind blown, cold.

Her hair trailed behind her.
Two glazed eyes, vacant sockets.
Formless clouds alone.
Where the wind ravages the mountains.

Drunken Proverbs Take IV

Well, I think another toast is required. This time, its an actual toast made by a drunken idiot. When they were asked for something to toast to, they responded almost immediately with "Let's toast to the Thermarest pillow!" What the hell kind of request is that? I'd be inclined to say that exactly half of the population doesn't know what thermarest is, and that one percent doesn't know what a pillow is. Thats less than half of our population that knows what this dude was toasting to. And those who knew, well, they were more bewildered. Who toasts to a pillow? Honestly.

I'd also like to issue more evidence for the topic of drunken people living in their own world. They hear what they want to hear and see what they think they've seen. Size can be completely squewed. For example, "dude, you have a cavernous belly button." Ok... who analyzes belly buttons? It was a normal belly button, if anything, it was way hairier than cavernous. Also, apparently a chick of polish heritage has a mouth that "could swallow the world." Last I checked, the world was a wee bit larger than 6 inches wide. Besides size distortions, some drunks develop ADHD. Some develop it to such a degree that they don't even finish entire thought processes. It's obvious from the stupid things they say that their mouths are speaking exactly what their heads are thinking, with no consideration for what it means. So, when their thoughts change half way through, so do their quotes: "I just ate some pineapple, lets go to DormLamerThanMine." I can't see a single connection between pinapples and dorms. They smell different, they're different colors, they aren't even the same size.

It is also obvious that our school is also a liberal arts college. I was in a room with two other people and suddenly, as we were about to leave, we heard talking in the hall. We weren't the occupants of the room, and the residents were out of town, so... we turned off the lights and were really quiet. But soon enough we heard chanting rising about the average symphony of drunked slurring, we distinctly heard "george bush don't like black people." This was repeated six or seven times to great effect - we couldn't stop laughing. I distincly remember thinking that they should have a march on Washington with that as their motto. I think they'd get a lot accomplished. They might consider changing it to "goerge bush don't like poor people" That way it would incoorporate the other non-caucasion races in America.

Rebuttal

Ah, fiend, stand up to your cruel words with a name! I have recently been attacked. Yes, verbally slandered and shamed. Some poor fool (alias KoT) mistook my words, my harmless blathering, for an insult to the name of ramen. I encourage each reader of this rebuttal to familiarize yourself with the post entitled "Noodles" and then with the comment listed thereunder.

If I had been serious on attacking this wonderful food, I would have first and foremost spelled ramen correctly. Second, to me, the oriental flavor is perhaps the best tasting flavor known to man, besides the lime shrimp flavor and fondou. And sir or ma'am, where have you found ramen for $.10??? I have yet to find it for less than $.12! Perhaps enemies can still work together to save money, eh? And your wise words on homeless people, yes, they don't have the appearance of those born to nobility, but can we not all aspire to be the most we can be? No, of course we can't. Despite what Disney says, the beggar shall never become prince of England, nor will the squireboy become champion knight of the round table.

And in this same venue, a college student should not aspire to start a candy company when they have only but one qualm with a flavour? I wouldn't dare trying to sell something named waterpus, unless it was for Halloween, I've heard nasty names sell well. You are correct sir (or ma'am)! I completely overlooked that fact that Smirnoff Twisted Watermelon has alcohol in it! How foolish of me to add it to the category of other things that taste like watermelon yet also have other things in them. Because watermelon jolly ranchers have sugar, and watermelon flavoured water has water in it, but silly me! I should never have grouped the Smirnoff Twist's in with those other things that have other things in them besides watermelon! To remedy this, I'd like to say how Smirnoff Twisted Watermelon malt beverages do not taste like a stuffed watermelon, yet these both have alcohol! I'm so glad I got this issue resolved, I would have been up all night.

Now I ask you, stand up to your harsh words, I demand an apology! (not really, that would be arrogant - you are, of course, entitled to your wrong opinion).

p.s. my fake ID says I'm 67, but what's it to you??



I would also like to reply to another comment made on the post entitled Allegory. For this poor fool also completely missed the entire point of the post. This poem was written in my frustration with past friends, how they call when I'm needed, not because they want to do things together. I did not mention a female anywhere in the poem, and it was arrogant for you to assume so, for it was written towards both some old female and some old male friends.

I must say, however, that this deuche is slightly more gifted in the sixth sense department. Though this poem was written with no intent towards a girl i like, there is however someone I like. And oh! Suprize! They do know I like them, and the ball is now in their court. Second, they know about this site, and unless I'm mistaken, they read it. So perhaps you should keep your presumptuous nose out of matters you know nothing about, take a poetry class so you don't grossly misunderstand a poem, and stop insulting other people's work.

Allegory

Guard Dog

I am that scruffy guard dog.
The lone sentry on your threshold.
I protect my master, my best friend.
I'm there when problems arise.
I can't complain; you need me,
And that gets me through the night.
I know that you'll come and find me
When you need a loyal friend.
But you never take me places.
You never ask me to jump in the car.
And who does the dog go to when
He needs help and protection?
You assume I'll be here for you,
And you've always been right.
Love will keep me here forever;
Yet, being only called when needed,
Petted in thanks and not in salutation...
The love seems to wane like the
Red moon I now howl at every night.

Darkness Surrounds Her

blanket

darkness surrounds her,
presses in, overwhelming.
no walls, no limits,
contained by emptiness.

no light, no warmth
absence of pleasure,
total ambivalence.
darkness encompasses her,
heavy and oppressive;

confining in its simplicity of
no end, no boundaries,
darkness covers her.
a blanket of blood;
congealed memories of
times forever lost.

she inhales it in gulps, the
darkness enters her.
it finds her heart.
no peace, no beginning
to have an end.

no sight, no colors…
chill wind carrying frost.
with each labored sigh
darkness smothers her.

darkness possesses her.
no life. no reason
to still be mocked.

no love, no life, the
darkness becomes her.

now darkness need come no more.

Noodles

So how did the makers of Raman noodles decide what the flavors were going to be? Who the hell decided what the Oriental flavor was going to be? How does one get picked to decide this monumental task? Millions of pre-packaged salt attacks are going to be eaten with this flavor. Did they assemble a mass panel of oriental people, an equal random sampling from all Asian countries, and give them some flavored salt and say, "Hey, does this taste like your food?" Inside they were saying 'Yes, we know you have hundreds of dishes, just like us, but we want you to tell us if that tastes like all of them.' Or maybe they just had leftover spices after making the other seasonings and mixed them all together and tried it, and the stoned dude in the corner said it tasted like the two-week-old chicken teriyaki he ate last night from his room mate's fridge.

Same thing goes for artificial watermelon flavoring. It doesn't taste like a fucking watermelon. No 'watermelon' candy or beverage has ever tasted like watermelon. Like Smirnoff Twisted Watermelon... it does NOT taste like liquid watermelon. Do watermelon jolly ranchers? no. i thought not. They should call the flavor something else. I hate the flavour, so I'd be inclined to name it something foul sounding, like... waterpus. but, for the courtesy of the people actually eating it, maybe something like flip-flop flavor?

Of Smiles and Fires

A Fire Burns Within Me

A fire burns within me.
It tears at my seams and
Bursts at my door,
Longing to get out.
Your gaze lights me up inside,
Your smile throws kerosene
On my fire’s searing heart.
Your laugh makes the flames
Higher and hotter and stronger.
As my fingers reach for yours
My world slows until that
Perfect moment when our
Hands fold together and fire
Shoots through my body.
Like hot chocolate warms
You inside on a cold winter night.
When I look into your eyes
I feel the love inside me
Rise as a dragon from sleep,
Yearning for something
With unquenchable passion;
Raisings its wings in a sweep
Of power and honesty.
Each time I see you
I’m reminded of your beauty;
Each time I’m with you,
You make me whole inside.
I want you in my arms
More than the winter flower
Craves the first day of spring;
More than the bonfire's
Flickering and wavering flames
Crave the night sky.

note: written with recent inspiration