tag:fubar.com,2010:BlogAtom-84395
2010-05-03T14:55:06-07:00
Some of my writing
A fubar user blog.
RisenFromStatic
https://fubar.com/402003
noreply@fubar.com
fubar
tag:fubar.com,2010:BlogAtom-84395.1112510
2010-05-03T14:55:06-07:00
2010-05-03T14:55:06-07:00
Perceptions of the Chemical Dreamer {Notes on Napkins}
<p>Today I asked for death, following incidents of maddening proportion,<br />and they gave me disease on the rocks.<br />Little starlit laughter bouncing between realities<br />where stick-figure men come to full color<br />on a pallet painted cobweb of intricate thought.<br /><br />All the work of late dripping bourbon rain<br />the scent of vodka staining my dreams<br />a masochist in merit alone,<br />finding the paralytic insects crawling from my pen<br />and introduced to the brain stem as means of our old religion<br />bow your head, and once may be saved.<br /><br />Indeed, like school children adrift in sleep<br />with eyes closed against the keys<br />found the antithesis of our strife.<br /><br />When upon we wake, cryptic messages begin to sense our soul<br />and through us the gods speak<br />with the roused blood of anarchy.<br /><br />Cry, dear savage,<br />upon the page decorates in very plain<br />language for all to see<br />that tis' not a message, but only a plea.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>if you find yourself liking this, or any other pieces here, feel free to check out 100+ works posted @ www.myspace.com/elysianjudas dont mind the rants, please</p>
RisenFromStatic
https://fubar.com/402003
noreply@fubar.com
tag:fubar.com,2010:BlogAtom-84395.1033243
2009-06-12T08:10:05-07:00
2009-06-12T08:10:05-07:00
Dreams of Impatient Pillowtalk
<p>In the towers that peer over the dreamscape<br />a land of rainy days and rainbows<br />small laughter carrying on the breeze,<br />dodging drops so we may have a song to dance to.<br /><br />Hand in hand, another holding you close<br />our feet begin to the worldly beat<br />smearing bright paints onto an easel of grey<br />a whispering into the torrent of sounds around us<br />a love-painted epiphany dwelling in a starry eternity.<br /><br />And thus, with the laughter on the breeze,<br />you and I would be set free<br />religated to a new day ahead,<br />and with many words left unsaid, we would guess...<br />reaching our hands together into the darkest night<br />to pull stars 'cross the skies and light a heart again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>© Nick Rice 2009</p>
RisenFromStatic
https://fubar.com/402003
noreply@fubar.com
tag:fubar.com,2010:BlogAtom-84395.768790
2008-04-21T00:37:23-07:00
2008-04-21T00:37:23-07:00
Say I, the Story of those who Prayed
She whisked away my soul,
said I,
to the demon who stood before me.
She left me free to roam,
said she,
in a far and distant memory.
Here I have seen exposed,
said I,
men and women burning gingerly.
I will follow my muse when he goes
said she,
as she whispered on the fleeting breeze.
Your essence will leave you soon,
to me,
such fleeting breaths are your last.
But I have not lived long enough to rue,
to her,
to deport my baby from the nest.
Your child will not know your rule,
to me,
nor a name to pick you from the mass.
He has your eyes, and your fierce love,
said she,
in my dreams I can hear him cry.
And with a handshake our time is up
said he,
is there noone to say goodbye?
What do you wish to trade?
asked the demon
That only she lives and mothers my son
and that her affection for him never wanes
that he may go on and forever love.
RisenFromStatic
https://fubar.com/402003
noreply@fubar.com
tag:fubar.com,2010:BlogAtom-84395.361780
2007-05-24T03:31:46-07:00
2007-05-24T03:31:46-07:00
What Changed Us
Take a second
value your life
and the skeletons left behind
do not forget the past
There is blood behind
on the fingertips
and when but a taste
breaks our mind
we'll fall
we crack,
these ghosts come back
to sit beside
and taunt of immaturity
soon, skin will leather
and we'll be old men
looking back, trying to drown
in our misery
RisenFromStatic
https://fubar.com/402003
noreply@fubar.com
tag:fubar.com,2010:BlogAtom-84395.360392
2007-05-23T04:47:34-07:00
2007-05-23T04:47:34-07:00
The Soap Opera Called Life
Dust in denim jeans
food for worms.
We live, so that we may die.
The hollow within wanting more,
but nothing left to give.
Give my heart, my blood.
Give breath, my touch.
Give that single best day
to truly live,
and the dust will fade,
and I will become nothing.
Spoken is of love,
as if by comprehension of the word alone
we liberate our lives from death.
That somehow, within the company
of another person
life has more meaning.
The facade keeps dancing,
keeping pace with the beat
that pounds within our chests.
Words fester upon our lips-
the iron nail suffocating us in our coffins-
and we become puppets
for the afternoon play.
RisenFromStatic
https://fubar.com/402003
noreply@fubar.com
tag:fubar.com,2010:BlogAtom-84395.360390
2007-05-23T04:44:07-07:00
2007-05-23T04:44:07-07:00
What Should've Been Done
We waste our breath
when but a whisper
would suffice.
Turning a fist
to the murder of men,
but allowing that fist to fall.
Sitting alone,
when standing demands
more respect.
Rotting, slowly to begin
without a single word of remorse.
The spirit fights on in the mind
but furthur adventure
is left only to action.
Tear this world down.
RisenFromStatic
https://fubar.com/402003
noreply@fubar.com
tag:fubar.com,2010:BlogAtom-84395.360381
2007-05-23T04:26:40-07:00
2007-05-23T04:26:40-07:00
This is Our Judgement
"How long?" He asks,
though the answer rings in his ears.
Doctors have betrayed,
and the once lived life
lives again in his mind.
Childhood, and funerals.
Watching his best friend float like an angel
in the water.
Too scared to move,
to frightened to look,
the induction of God's hand
played early in life.
Highschool and hormones.
These memories not fully complete,
too much "experimenting" to say the least.
New best friends, new funerals,
a pitiful existence meant
to engrave a grain of discipline and knowledge
on an unready mind.
Graduation.
The embarking fools unto this world,
forgot the golden rule.
"You can be, whatever you want to be"
seems like the catchphrase of parents
never truly explored.
Those friends were lost to the world
sent out a sheep among lions of industry.
Freshman year, the woe of love.
Met for study groups, turned to dates,
no more partying,
a strict devotion to one woman.
The spent time allows development,
as the love far surpasses aestetics,
and finds itself burrowed in the soul.
A child on the way, marriage in the air.
The delivery, harrows his soul
and hollows his love.
Another funeral.
His child's life,
exchanged for his love's death.
A trade he would have reversed
had he the touch of God.
Tears flow in his eyes,
driving home.
He curses the Almighty,
swearing that it should have been
he, that died.
His wish, answered.
The tears blocked out the road,
and the truck that spun him out of control.
Flipping over and over again,
a calm came upon.
When next his eyes open, there is a doctor,
and he is asking the question "how long?"
Death is certain, and now,
through his strained throat
he thanks God.
RisenFromStatic
https://fubar.com/402003
noreply@fubar.com
tag:fubar.com,2010:BlogAtom-84395.360375
2007-05-23T04:20:51-07:00
2007-05-23T04:20:51-07:00
Engraved in a Bullet
we, who have seen a thousand times more
the death of men of rage.
the children who wield those terrible weapons,
and push us to kill again
we, who know not the pain of death
but how the sword pierces the skin
the lives within us destroyed by fear
that murders our immortal soul.
we, who fear our dreams,
the dead faces staring back,
are no longer recognized
by family or loves clinging.
we, who died before we are dead
want nothing of this world
our thoughts numbed by self-loathing
who rest on the edge of the sword.
RisenFromStatic
https://fubar.com/402003
noreply@fubar.com
tag:fubar.com,2010:BlogAtom-84395.359439
2007-05-22T10:57:17-07:00
2007-05-22T10:57:17-07:00
From the Ashes of the World
Turned Hermod's blind eye
Tearing through bone
And sinew.
"Ride to Hel" to bring back purity
to stop tears from touching the ground
the pire burns tall
remembering what white used to mean
and what was to come.
Capture the trickster,
bind him in such a way
that he understands the pain
of removing the world's joy.
When the chains break,
those that moved the earth,
a new dawn will burn
and cleanse.
And rise again.
RisenFromStatic
https://fubar.com/402003
noreply@fubar.com
tag:fubar.com,2010:BlogAtom-84395.359438
2007-05-22T10:56:08-07:00
2007-05-22T10:56:08-07:00
Under the Tongue
Death comes easy and cheap.
Like a burst of cold air into your lungs,
that moment where breath stops.
Reaching frozen fingers around your heart
deafening the pulse.
Alone you die,
though fruitless searches for other ways
keep life occupied.
Children and love amount to nothing in death,
just something to cling to
while your eyes slowly shut.
Your body is not invincible,
your life immortal,
and while Acheron waits for us all
you have not the toll to cross.
The ferryman cares not for Earthly possession,
nor for your vain appearances.
One hundred years await your soul.
Death is cheap and easy.
What comes after
is the purpose of living.
RisenFromStatic
https://fubar.com/402003
noreply@fubar.com