writing Here and Now

[Ferret Girl 2,642]

It is here in a mind young and alive, breathing with borrowed air, swimming in pestilence and medication, all to captivate the nonexistent sanity that is a youthful heart, ever so beating in bountiful misery.

Here is I, youth in mind, bearing witness to the whores and addicts, the politicians and doctors, the workers and labor-less leeches of a decrepit society.

Here is I, as I am born, with no right of choice for life that is forced upon me.

Here I shall embark, thriving in potential madness of the oxymorons and the hyperboles that are the lies told to quiet, diminished minds.

All too secretive in lewd images and sacred arts, bound now to laws that we have known for eternity, painfully writhing in houses, burning and smoking, here and there, dancing in sparks until our charred remains rest with corrupted worms, suckling our flesh, burned, stained with knowledge.

You and your garbled tongue rest easy, not a care for worldly guilt, going on with your ritual business sacrifice, slaughtering your imaginative cousins with paper with which you use to further burn the innocent lives of material driven people.

All so innocent, the youth, that is I, and the rest of this unfathomable generation, alert with confusion and pride, alliteration of moral-less acts, driven to sexual revelations and distinguishing illnesses of the brain, forging lies from metal truth and branding flesh with heated steel, made from such.

We are all, and all of us are we, dying from our moment of conception, and led to believe otherwise, through cheap cosmetics and drinks of our fathers.

We are what we shall see, such as I, lost, lustful youth, indulging spices in flesh, so that when we burn perhaps we shall provide pleasant odors for our peers.

Perhaps in our perilous reasoning and imaginative organs, which shall be no more, soon to be plucked for harvest, shall be the undoing of our mercy and fury.

I am me, and as I stare to see who else will covet to be, such as I, and we, forever never, and lost aplenty along burning shorelines, broken glass carving marvelous designs into our flesh as we lie ungratefully into each other’s arms in a deep embrace, forging the seeping youthful prejudice of our generation.

In a line of words to portray, written by a hand in less youth than love, I say.

 

-David F.

Edited November 1, 2013 by BronyHeart x Hylie

[Arretez 225]

This is amazing. I rarely ever get lost in words, but I found myself reading this script for a little under an hour. You are incredibly talented, and I hope that you become very well known for this gift.

[Frith is Magick 1,471]

This is one of the things I like about poetry, every time you read it the same words take on a different meaning. I expect I will return to read this more than once. Of course, in order to do that I'll have to stop looking at it every 10 seconds to dig deeper into each sentence. You truly have a talent with words.