Thursday, June 27, 2013

Bliss (It)

It's like, what do you want to talk about?
There is no aspect of Its life that is interesting or happy or even remotely different
Divorced (ex was committed)
Son (which will become psychologically damaged)
lives a million hours away and cries when let go
Finishing school
to get a job, won't die
and That's It.
It hates itself...

Used to pray that her or It would die to alleviate the
WEIGHT
wrong to live a pointless existance
messed up
can't go back
Everyone can make it without It, especially him
won't be torn, can celebrate memories
People are always better in our memories

A coward!
Can't take Its own life!
must be taken from It!
And so
"live" a half-life
Doing the motions, but mindful that Its will is gone
No more ambition
no more desire
Just instinct

Will this time end? Maybe
but does it matter
How could it? With parting
maybe
want to run, but she makes It stay
...live
Zombies, It hates
but you become what you hate
The world is designed that way
A factory of death, a concentration camp...
No hope
No fear
Night...

Want light? the end of the tunnel, NO!
That only brings realization of the blackness that envelops
Infinite darkness, peace of routine
mindless...

If you'd be so kind and take use of the darkness and put this coward out of Its misery
Just slip it between the shoulder blades and swiftly through the heart

But don't give It such hope
Keep It busy to forget...
bliss

                                                       -Quasimodo

Dick


Dick liked Jane

Dick played with Jane

Dick learned with Jane

Dick had fun with Jane

Dick fell in love with Jane

Dick married Jane

Dick had a family with Jane

Jane fought with Dick

Jane liked Dick

But fell in love with Bill

Now Dick doesn't like Jane

But can't forget her

Dick is alone

                                              -Quasimodo

The Bee

Busy Bee Buzzing Below
unaware of impending woe
me
the carful observer
you
the diligent worker
should I take that fatal step?
and take away your Final Breath?

Busy Bee, now in two
oh how I wish I was you
and God would take that fatal step
and take away my Final Breath...

                                                       -Quasimodo

There once was Elliot. 
             He was a talented being. Music was a physical thing to him. It was all around him. It would come to him in the day and at night it filled his dreams. He loved music. 
             One day he took control of the music and made something amazing. He was so proud of what he had done. He made the music his own.  Some others heard it and praised him. They would say " I had no idea you were so talented!" Elliot enjoyed that others thought what he had made showed how talented he was. He decided to continue to create. 
               He kept making more and more and the others liked it more and more. But the comments began to change from being impressed to a little critical.  
"This one is good, but i like how the older stuff was" they would say. 
Elliot was puzzled. 
"This is what i do. This is who I am. How can i make it how i used to?" 
             He racked his brain. He couldn't sleep. Every time he tried to make something, empty words filled his fingers. I can't do it...but the others wanted more.  
           Elliot tried to run, to flee from his talent but the music continued to swirl around and around dragging him deeper and deeper into madness.  Others continued their comments and said he lost his touch, that the talent was gone, but the music was still there. 
There was no escape. 
No one to listen. 

Alone. 



He hated music.


                                                                -Quasimodo
There once was Gimbo. 
               He was nice and lovable. But he never wanted to do anything. He would lay in the grass and watch daisies or clouds. The sun would rise and the sun would set on Gimbo dreaming away. When ever his friends would ask if he wanted to go swimming or go grab some food, he said he didn't want to. He never wanted to do anything.
              His mom would ask him to take a bath and he would reply that he didn't want to. His mother would say "One day you will have to do something." Gimbo would say "I dont want to think about that." He never wanted anything because he never needed anything. He just watched the clouds pass by.
               One day he saw the most beautiful sight, Ximbi. She was the most elegant thing he had laid his eyes on. 


                        Finally, he wanted something. 
             
               He tried everything to get close to her. He tried cooking, but he didn't know how. He never wanted to learn. He tried rowing a boat, but he couldn't. He never wanted to learn. He tried climbing a tree, but he couldn't. He never wanted to learn. He couldn't eat or sleep because of his overwhelming want to be with Ximbi. 
               Eventually, she moved away and Gimbo returned to his old ways. He would lay and watch the clouds and the daisies. The sun would rise and the sun would set on Gimbo dreaming away. 

But now he wasn't happy. 


He was lonely...

                                                 -Quasimodo