www.williamgibsonboard.com
www.williamgibsonboard.com
Random Thoughts
Poetry for the long and lustful...|
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I was at the Univeristy of Wisconsin at Madison Student Union (having a drink) today and was fasinated for several hours watching all the "boys" play chess. This is the simple poem I wrote while silently watching them play...
Presence is Art Art is Beauty Beauty is Human What poems have YOU written recently or are your favorites to share with us all? |
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you can find me at write something now.
pg 30 onwards. _____________________________ Smoking makes you cooler - His Majesty's Image Consultant |
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ah, what the hell.
No Sense, or Five Ways to Die Looked up to you to see You'd never even scowl at me Drifted in sometimes to smell You couldn't spare a sneeze to sell gave it up cooked bleu i swore i caught your eye all i wanted, only you i miss that hole, your sky Straining hard to learn to hear You'd only listen for my fear Licked your window trying to get a taste You spat like I was poison-laced you never lock your door invite me in to your disdain said i needed to be more coarser than dirt and wetter than rain Reach for your skin to see how it feels You always pull back like a sunburn peels What more can I possibly do? You'd merely laugh at me if I hit you Yet still I'm enthralled the whole way through How can this be, I haven't a clue I can taste what you hear You don't smell like I feel No touching you dear Wasn't part of the deal (meh) _____________________________ Smoking makes you cooler - His Majesty's Image Consultant |
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Can't dig the itch out from under my skin
Can't smoke the hive out that's crawling within everyday now for years with no hope for an end to the ways that i think about how to pretend Can't cast off the stone that will set myself free Can't put out the fire that burns within me denied of your touch, unloved left to fend swallowing truth just to act like a friend I want so much more I want you as before I want to be shipwrecked apart on you shore just once won't you roar that it's me you adore truly see in my stare my unsaid semaphor Can't sate this hunger that keeps me so thin Can't stop the urges that drive me to sin my sanity shakes every time you descend your face in my dreams i've no way to defend Can't cure the blindness that dares me to see Can't stand as the man that you want me to be you live as a jungle my mind cannot tend bareing fruit of denial on which i depend Wasted dissolving suicidal revolving Obsessing and loving it all as i bleed Delusions evolving self-destructively solving Logic served dead for emotions to feed _____________________________ Smoking makes you cooler - His Majesty's Image Consultant |
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Lime green and
Tangerine Candy colored Jet strip girl Six feet tall with Her head in the clouds All satin tanned cream With glistening pink On acrylic heels In silver skinned Iridescent and Aerodynamic Air conditioned comfort A flower powered Platinum blonde bombshell Fully loaded and Ready for take off Clear the runway |
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God and country
Angelic intervention or U.F.O invention, the need to have a scapegoat makes us blind. Autohypnotic state, a deep rooted belief in fate, why do you need a motive or a god? Human nature assumption belies naked aggression. That's all there is to know, it's figured out. Legitimizing violence through T.V shows and war, the only thing we've learned is that we're right. How can it be, that this is all I've seen after twenty seven years upon this rock? No one understands. The government, the man only needs us so that we may shop. Oil prices rise, so we bomb the little guys. Were you behind the giant desert storm? I have no faith, in god or the state. I need to see it all crumble down. Hivemind Ritualistic obsession, cursed humanity. Perpetual transgression, throughout eternity. Infinate agression, dwarfed by lunacy. Of man I have one question; "Will you not be free?" Like clockwork The fact that we're equiped with the equipment to hear sounds and navigate terrain, Provides us with an insight to the function of the meaning and the purpose of our brain. Actions lead to actions and reactions. The cycle never breaks, it just mutates. So join us in our play of light refractions, join us and we'll see what we can take. Planetary changes lead to chaos, and cities rise and fall within the wake. Man has done his best to tame his master, and that could be our single worst mistake.    I,    Clockwork me,    Mechanistic we    move mountains to the sea    with our machinery    theres nothing left to see.    Us,    Collective parasite    Know that we are right    solve it with a fight    flex collective might    no one left to fight. "C" the speed of light within a vacuum "E" the energy and "M" for mass equate the greatest thought of generations made into a weapon used too fast. Einstien never knew what he'd invented. He never saw the horror or the pain. Atomic things might very well have saved us from slowly driving everyone insane. But now it's mutually assured destruction. Looming overhead the tempest waits. The time it would take us to disarm them, leads eventually to our fate. |
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When what I'm really seeking
Is the true vision of a poet Or a prophet A facile gift for rhyme and meter Coverts it all to doggerel |
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The throbbing days
Aching and yearning The quest of life, the eternal burning The black eyes The naked cries thrown in shadows To see in blissful eyes, to render life. In colours of your hearths desire In utter despair like Sisophos struggle To lay in clay and scattered rubble Days filled with sunshine To paint the window of my dreams in black. Outside the bying and selling Inside in agony dwelling. A diamond star And my fingers bled. |
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Cruising for wall hangers,
I am waylaid by multicolored guitar gadgets of infinite variety. Combination plectrum/can opener for the musician on the go with time only for cooking or playing, but not both. Straps woven of the hair of genocide's victims and imprinted with eye-catching graphics of skulls and knives. Amplifier heads, 3000 watts of class A tube power in iMac blueberry, shake apart, crack and crumble as victims of their own decibels. Brand-new, Custom Shop, Vintage Repro, Relic Special Edition Les Paul Uber-Deluxe Customs in artificially-aged, unplayable condition with factory-broken and factory-repaired headstocks, only $9399.99, six months same as cash, a deal too vapid to pass up. Never before has so much been done to so little effect. --------------------------- That's a lie, but I said it with a smile -- John Roderick |
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Its absence like missing letters in encrypted code, or a dead language keeps me thinking that maybe this isnt the way to go about this with you like maybe i should take care like cleaning an old painting but this isn’t exactly science and one can’t always predict so I wing it and you on the wing and out and gone and I alone and tied to this chair like some prisoner or hostage and your face and your smell and your taste and your hair and that smile that lies over everything I see in you-tinted glasses that make the world stand in stark contrast to us all like a Norman Rockwell painting and you, the lady in the red dress that pulls our eyes to focus…but now, gone for hours like days into nights and the stars are dim, though you will return this hurts like I know it should because one day you wont
So I sit in melancholy silence face pressed to pages and fingers furiously tap-p-p-p-p-p-ing on the keys in a flurry I don’t think I’ll use thespell checker or stop to see if I have used pun.tu;a’tion at all because it doesn’t flow like this…noticing autocorrect wish they had that for my timing and now I realise that distance is only time and you could be anytime any distance and I could reach you, will reach you, will always and forever be reaching and running and hunting and trying to find that lost scent of you that still hangs in my nose like a phantom limb pulsing and itching and singing sad songs to break my heart Your face-more perfect every time I see it, lost in the crowd, rising above it, standing in front of me face pressed to my chest and squeezing as though I rescued you from something though I fear I have created a larger danger and what may I do with my secrets that follow behind me dogging me and sneaking through shadows like a tail in a bad dectective movie. I see I hear I smell and I feel all that is you but I fear for what I may do what the hell are you? Such singular beauty as to be unnatural but yet this desolate angel floats toward me almost nightly, touches my heart as though these walls weren’t here and the stars are pulsing and they are singing wordless and silent but the planets, o the planets! they shine without blinking and I want you without thinking because emotion this deep has instinct Dimlight nightime and near drunk with tired but cannot sleep and cannot stop looking at the shadows caught in your hair, your neck, your shoulders…prefect in form and in a void because I feel the absence before it occurs like im an emotional prescient afraid to move because you sleep but wanting to crush you inside me and keep you forever and ever and ever and ever and always these noises as you sleep (soft murmur, tiny squeaks, petite snores) float above me like lights and I float softly and easily under you over you through you and leave with the dust of you on my clothes in m,y hair. Stupid sun rises and crushes time spent with you in watchful waking and wonderment of all that is you sun blinds to dream and suspension of belief and here I stand wanting to grab you and run like a small time hood with a handful of cash which is beneath you, perfect priceless creature that you are you, and always and again, you "Sometimes nothin' can be a real cool hand." - Cool Hand Luke |
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I like structure games
minimal and japanese shows how much I suck. ________ You have to give up. |
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I like haikus too
So utterly alluring Why I do not know |
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Men with big dicks
Write such short poems Nobody bothers to look down... |
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hey now.
your two poems adds to a mere 6 lines. perhaps you haven't seen my reply to your antics on the Lost in Translation thread. _____________________________ Smoking makes you cooler - His Majesty's Image Consultant |
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but the only one I "brown-nose" is my boyfriend and he likes to say that the apparent duality of man can be easily explained by a simple joke, " A Rapist, Pedophille, and Child Molester walk into a bar.......And that's just the Priest!" lol
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Universal dawn
alliance of the moons cycling eternal lackadaisical bliss. We are here, witnesses to passing, soon to pass with it. Deserts blowing across time across space. Cosmic debris reforming into mountains, mountains blown away back into deserts. All of it periodically washed by the oceans. Floors of the deepest unreachable seas laid bare to finally grow, reaching up for the sun, reaching for life. Seashells in the alps. Mass matter exodus. New continents trying to erase evidence of a previous state. Polar shifts in hyperspeed cause million mile an hour winds to run rampant over the planet's face. Highspeed weather cloaking a resurfacing, planetary transcendence. New geology in weeks, days, seconds. Carbon-based life reset to zero. Bloom again delicate entities. To witness these events, to be unimaginably humbled, radically inspired challenges thinking as we don't know it, cannot conceptualize at all. In how many other lives have I kissed another's flesh, drank another's sorrow? Been enthralled by a partner's trace elements, bled into the earth or exhaled a final breath to be carried undetected into the jetstream. Oh, to be incorporreal, unbound by physicalities. An ungrounded consciousness feeling the forces of creation pass through the self like a lover's breath on the nape of the neck. Like a caress upon gooseflesh, irregular bloodflow stimulated by a murmer or a sigh, a shift for a more comfortable mold with a warm body. The irony of such primitive bodies, unable to sustain a prolonged period of soul-staggering joy due to unwanted interruptions for fuel and waste disposal. So many parts all jealous for attention. I'm jaded with the curde of being a slave to human variables. Chance discoveries leading us forever, unwilling to let us linger or absolve. Unmerciful in letting us decide any finality to overstimulation. Dynamic cause and effect evershifting. Cruel beyond comment. The nature of awareness twisting knives of need, whips of unchosen station. Bound with chains of morality. To be a wind and pick up the particles of existence. Halflives of mundane-majestic matter deteriorated into bits and carried away. Touching a piece of everything as you blow past-through unheeded. Taste the sum of the universe, the smell of evolution, the sound of progress, the sight of eternity. We may not achieve the sweet bliss of timelessness but at least the feeling of reaching for it is real/ The pleasure in the burn of used muscles can be relished. Dreams are free and a kiss created from the truest passion is better than the fleeting touch of instinctual copulations. Agonizing love unreciprocated leaves a burning mark indeed. Longer lasting by far than resigned partnership. Let go and burn while you still have the fuel. While you still have the sensation of licking your inhibitions. Burn while you can still scream in release, while you can still see your own beauty, taste your own reaction, hear your own moan of truth. Savour that exquiste pain because it's the closest we'll get to the nature of events unhindered, life undiluted. Pure as light from a dead star. Cold a thousand years past and yet we'll still see it burn. _____________________________ Smoking makes you cooler - His Majesty's Image Consultant |
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Brought from within the pulse or the movement
Echoing in time, rendering life Naked eyes across the darkness. Winds and the likes of thunder, clattering hooves of travel Forged in flesh and soul. She the white one standing tall with the ignorance of world, all over her face. Piciking in the gutter, chasing breadcrumbs astray And then the black one came: eyes of the deepest souls, thorn from within. Demons in her wake of dreams and sorrows. Hearth, deep in abyss, hidden behind the need, to grasp the essence of life. Oh purple crimson darkness her need is a readymade to fly To chase her life for the purpose of living even more. |
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I think I'll keep my bad poetry to myself....
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anyone ever thought of putting together a WGB compendium?
just a thought, sub the tv above the armoire was the color of sky, set to the aux-IN channel... |
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NOT SO BAD
Thought about you girl, the other day I couldn't of a single thing I'd say - wouldn't think I'd want it any other way. You're with me - all your hopes and blames I'm lost in smoke and video games. Victories on par with all the shames. Like tracks to trains like wood to flames a junkie living down among the stains. With a dimebag and a claim on the verge of down the drain. Don't you know given a second chance... I'd do it all the same. wasted nights of well spent years the fun and games and tears well-drank beers to stay those fears it's surely not as bad as it appears Thought about you man the other night. Don't know why or who began that fight. And yet it's true i always knew that what we did was right. Your fists hurt now as much as then I'm stumbling through the count of ten. Love or war we'd always act like men. What bitter ends a man descends. Time can be such misery to spend. We'd say sorry for pretend too late now to make ammends. Don't ya know given a second chance... I'd do it all again. wasted nights of well spent years the fun and games and tears well-drank beers to stay those fears it's surely not as bad as it appears Thought about you all a while ago. The "temporary break apart" has grown to 15 years or so. If asked to choose a better sounding ending I'd say no. Thinking of the past sure brings, fallen dreams beheaded kings illicit scores of escapades and flings. At night I broken-hearted cling so bittersweetly to the sting. To the pain of living life but don't ya know... I'd never change a thing. wasted nights of well spent tears gone those golden years no more beers to stay those fears... ...still my life ain't quite as bad as it appears. _____________________________ Smoking makes you cooler - His Majesty's Image Consultant |
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www.williamgibsonboard.com
www.williamgibsonboard.com
Random Thoughts
Poetry for the long and lustful...