[x]

AstrologicalI have lost myself to
Venus & Mars,
tangled in their mismatched limbs.

Just dream dust & shattered prayers
begging for a new set of skin
(she can't remember where she orbits).

Pluck these fractured wings;
the Sun & Moon no longer ache
to see me fly in their luster.

lies, she wrotei. just a mimicry, really;
uncompromisingly
desperate to shine.

ii. counterfeit & clockwise,
tasting words on her
unworthy tongue.

iii. with a dysfunctional mind
& apocryphal dictionary,
she cannot clone it all.

iv. "say anything," the pen
whispers as she trembles
among ink-scented fraudulence.

v. but she just laughs & plays the part,
forgetting what the pages told her:
"truth is stranger than fiction."

The Pen, The SwordJust lovely
I was happy to fall asleep
in the welcoming warmth of your words and
you were unaware that you held me
so close, and so carefully
from the moment before I heard you speak
to the taste of every sentence you spoke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been seeking all along
Just barely
I was loathe to fall so deep
in the sharpened edges of your words and
you were too aware that you had me
so close, and so carelessly
from the first second I heard you break
to the taste of every sentence you broke
I knew you were the very truth that I'd
been avoiding all along

Death of the PoetDear poetry,
This is your challenge,
my eternal chore,
to restate the truth
like never before-
but I’m imperfect
at my very core
and hypocrisy
is what I abhor
so you may expect
my work to be poor
enough for me to
be crushed into gore
with failed attempts
to take wing and soar
when all I wanted
was something much more
than emptiness and
inherited war
and pointless details
of imagined lore
which most of us tend
to simply ignore
at the piercing sound
of a lion’s roar
or the convenience
of a nearby store…
what am I truly
writing these words for?
Let’s merely pretend
that this isn’t me
but the voice of God
or L. Ron Hubbard
or whoever you
wish for it to be
since facts remain facts
no matter the source,
no matter the cause,
since the trustworthy
are also humans
prone to failure;
so prone to a fault
that we hold dearly-
the sum of our faith
measured in dollars-
rewarded by credit
and paper money…
for some odd reason
I find this funny!
So I conclude

False EternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days,
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.
Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!
Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for the moon
then sought the horizon, again and again warned my father that doom
would befall him if he didn't seek a better way to live and be
I wasn't willing to follow the dark and deadly rules,
trying to bring some light into the lives of these fools.
Guilds of anti-gods were formed, wars rose higher, nothing to atone!
They all represen

ArrheniusThe birds are
keeping to themselves
this evening
as the earth shifts
slightly-
ever so calmly
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have
to move).

Here and there, I
witness these
beautiful strangers
with perfect bodies
and long hair
walking down the road
in tightly knitted packs.
They are animals
like we are animals-
like we are
animals without
claws and fur,
with scratches on our
skin that yields to
fragile and
familiar hands.

The winds respond
as quiet birds rush
from telephone wires
in panic and
in beauty; she
tries to brush the hair
dancing circles in her eyes
(for when you are
this powerful
you only have to move).

False eternityDisillusioned youth was less common in those days,
I assure you, the people even more set in their ways,
murderous and unforgiving, yet unaware of the lie they were living
convinced that faith is stone, they cut faces into gods, they thought
ignorant of the fact that being made rendered useless the very gods they wrought.

Shiny carvings into stone, faces, figures, blessed unknown,
Murders, slaughters, sacrifices of the weak, preaching sins and what they seek.
Forgiveness is not for all, all who do not have will now fall!
Greed consumes the mortal mind, rage is all that's left behind!

Amidst it all I rose and found the sun, disowned him for

Psychotic ramblingsI, in the eternal void rest,
Am the unwanted thirteenth guest,
Insane, deranged and psychotic,
There are people who even call me sick.

Isn't it joyful and greedy to demand
A sacrifice of strangulation at the reach of the hand?
Cure the poisoned in a prison built of mental sand.

Murder is the solution brought by the resolution.
Is this the final, one and only conclusion?
Better think again, there will be no retribution.

Death is not the liberation, just the beginning.
Is there eternal peace? The solution is sinning.
Unacceptable lies become the truth, the chaos keeps spinning.

VoicesDo you hear the moan of morning rhymes
By the people in their endless time
As the morning dew breaks the day
Back to where the city-lights once laid

The lamp-posts are filled with black starlight
As the children run in their flight
With cries of sorrow, cries of pain
The old houses creaking with disdain

Acidic puddles of blood-wet tears
Remain on the street through all these years
As the cracks have hid the crumbled dust
Within these roads of bone and rust

The melody of the birds is lost
To the screeches and screaming loss
There are people cowering in the dark
Murmuring, whispering their tortured remarks

Flames ignite the world in fire

WakefulI remain awake with dreams on my mind
and stories that wait to be knit into books.
To never find comfort until my pillows are
stuffed with thoughts instead of feathers
To never let go until I made sure that
the moon smiled back at me
Until the trees, the grass, and every night creature
has whispered good night...
And yet I'm still as wakeful as an owl
afraid that sleep would somehow
grab my neck and drag me to my grave.

Shared HappinessI like it better when you're happy.
The world feels like a safe place -
A good place to be.

Stay happy, even in the face
of great adversity
I know these last few years have been...

Well, difficult, to say the least.
But as long as your heart shines
I can hear it...

That devilish smile on your lips
the one no amount of miles
or hardships can erase

Remember, I'm always watching
With the eyes of my heart
I see you clearly

And, as long as you are happy
No matter where this life leads me
Then I am happy too.

Watercolor PainWhen you smile,
I turn colorblind.

It turns into a somersault
whenever I gain contact
with your skin,
bare back touching
bare back.

But I'm not hungry
for bedposts.

I just want to
savor each moment your arms
lock into mine,
the romanticism of
the moons in my eyes
and the skies in your words.

There's smoke
behind all those hues
of hazel and your fingers
are porcelain,
but I still love you.

bad nightmy mistakes are on my head,
and the cigarettes taste like metal;
on the street curb of a suburban block,
the lights jaundiced and flickering
like drunken fireflies, your reflection
that emanates from me covers every face.

HumanDear Hypocrite,

What do you do?
Throwing insults when you're insulted.

Dear Coward,

Where went you?
To your "peaceful" sanctuary you have bolted.

Dear Liar,

What say you?
Your poison corrupts innocent ears.

Dear Human,

What are you?
A sinner trapped in endless tears.

a true writer's souli write to release
i write to breathe
i write to feel
i write to bleed

i don't care
if you don't understand
i don't care
if you can't relate
i don't care
for your opinion
i don't care
about you at all

my words are thoughts
my words are emotions
my words are curses
my words are memories
my words are everything
i want them to be
and fuck if you can comprehend

i could write in measure
i could bother with rhythm
but i'm better than your rules
i'm beyond the margin

i'm a fucking psychotic mess
of ambiguous lunacy
that only the ones that think
can understand
the ones that
are just like me

fuck your critiques

fuck your citicism

fuck your opin

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More from *RUNNrabbitRUNN

point .point.
been on this earth longer than you,
know more than you do,
know you are full of absolut shit,
and you can't lie your way out of a paper bag,
you fucking lush.
you're fucked, little girl.
get out of my country and go fuck yourself.

wounded metalsiamoflonesomesubstance

that we share a slip of the muzzle

a kiss of cheek

a slight of hand

and glance of keep

we speak of aeons

within the depths of sadness peak

of death and prostitute desperate5.4.12 22:22:46by *DgenRetEliteRabbit

©2012 *Rabbit

_of death and prostitute desperate_

i am small

and therefore
shall those

MIGHTY

of the small
be

GREAT
of whence
they fall

i miss all manner of home today

why cannot home
consist of

family

both
blood bled relative
and
deep soul connection
together
?

and 2nite
we r lost
.

5.4.12 22:22:46Adam Yauch aka MCA died today

no period

should ever be an end to a statement
of sheer fact and
of sheer truth

i am still in yacolt, washington.
my flight was canceled.
aparently some time ago.

i should've been
(bEEn)
home
(home?)
in torrance in bed beside my husband by now.
but
but BUT BUT BUTBUT
i am fucking drrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrUNK!
in a small bedroom
in the southern clark county
of washington state.

i won't lie

ladies unT
und
t und gentlemen

tickticktick...

i should be lying semi-unconcious beside my husband,
the only one
who has ever and EVER WILL
love me
as i
am.
tonite.
now.

for all the FEAR
a

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[x]

teeny bop

by *RUNNrabbitRUNN, Feb 8, 2013, 6:44:12 PM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

she watches from without
hopeful and hungry
icicles fingers clutching glossies
skin brittle
waiting
if only he'd look her way
and smile hello

silver sharpee pen in fist

day after night his representation aches her imagination
a desperation acrid sweet as warheads and jawbreakers
out of reach but for photographic relapses
recorded proclamations of sounds meaning more than
anyone would ever know

nervous for a broken heart
anxious for a stolen moment
wounded and begging aid from an imposed hero
thunderous brow and slashed eyes
she stands by dying in patience

eyes she's traced a million times
lips she's dreamed of tracing by fingertip
smooth skin and perfectly quaffed hair
muscle and bone
living, live, real

she holds her breath
speechless and numb-tongued
dumb

the idol scribbles in black marker
no smile no spark no nothing
already seeing the next obligation five more down
still untouchable
forever unreachable

unnoticed she slips away
disappointed and crestfallen

at night she'll still see him
dreamy and close
so close she can touch him
and someday she would

teeny bopby *RUNNrabbitRUNN

Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

©2013 *RUNNrabbitRUNN

everyone's been here

*alapip Feb 9, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

sometimes so sad the dreaming heart...

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~Mick-Mars51 Feb 8, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

This is beautiful rabby <3

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