The Ambiguation Page

So, I have been told (again) to update; I don't really mind, since I'm bored at the moment.
Unfortunately I've nothing to say, so I'm going to be predictable and post some pseudo-blackmetal/Neo-paganistic poetry.
So, here's the poem: I'm going to make the title up right now, so it'll be subject to change.
-------------------------------
The Angelic

i'm reading to the sin's conclusion,
waiting for the rain to fall,
pacing across the frosted hallway
lamenting red life as the ashes fall

nightmares grinning like grim seduction
a fleeting glimpse of more,
like thrashing the beast in the rising tide
of lust and the scent of war

i'm dreaming of screams and chains of gold
prison bars virtue forged,
drinking bleeding sacrifice to the
reaping raping horde.

like lovers wrapped in perfect roses
taunting death with a poison kiss
a field of green and simple losses;
i'm just not drunk enough for this.

so on an innocent page with a childish grin
we're scrawling lullabies
singing of dark and the touch of the night
desperation's song of lies

it rings through empty marble halls
filled with whirling gears
iron cogs and the stains of time
sweat and blood and fear

i step onto the final stair
crawling blind to the end of night
the sin-song is over, i'm slinking away
so looking back with triumphant stare
I step into the waiting light.
-------------------------------

What do you think..?
And what does it mean..?

Flag Blog. Let's Dance.

So, I've finally succumbed to the unnessesary, mildly unappreciated pressure from various members of the disproportionately silly, Y chromosome deficient segment of the population.
That being said, I still don't have anything to say, so I'm going to write a poem. Right now. And it's going to be so bad that nobody will ever bug me to update again.

Aren't I a clever person.


Steamy.

Under pressure I feel alive;
hissing, writhing inside the
glowing, crimson-coal
prison, thrashing.
I'd thought it was energy,
some cosmic disruption, a
manic extrospection;
But it turns out I'm just hot.


There. Isn't it wonderful?

&& [this is t h e [e]mo .title.]

"Citizens, we are gathered here today to mourn. Seventeen years ago, the world smiled. Dawn broke in joy, and all things were as they should be. But that day was no asupicious note in the greater symphony that is time. That day the requiem for sanity began, and a great silliness came into being." - charedice


Unessesary quotes aside; yay, I'm 17 :) have some photos :)
and apologies for the title.

poem?

this is somewhat weird; there's a bit of a trick to it.

today swirls and changes into
my dreams or visions of
nights spent spinning with
the end of the world, it's coming



sorry about the shortness. I might post again later tonight.

poem

I have nothing interesting to say except that My room is civilised and has three doors. For easy leaving.

and it felt like time for a poem.

in the ordered rows with the
insistant pulsing in its ears,
a puppet dances to
the music in its heart.

or two

He's somewhat, irreverent with fate
and lacks grace. Poise is
important, if one wishes to
die well. you know?

or three


it seems that everything is connected.
I felt it dreaming; in the end, reflections
in my window remind me of myself,
surprise dulled by repetition.

there. now.. analyse!

as requested by the only person who reads this.

I think I'll make it a long, and extremely boring post. Just to annoy.

Anyway, today I helped John move house. He has cerebral palsy, so he supervised from his wheelchair. It was kind of.. well, boring, but also almost felt like I was accomplishing something, which can be nice. And I had pizza for lunch. Pizza is always good.
Unfortunately, this was actually everything I did today. So the rest of the day was very, very dull.

So, it's going to be a list. and then a poem. and then we'll see.

things. to think about, do, remember. in the order i think of them.

• Tomorrow I will go have drinks with Eric. At the botanical gardens, I think.
• I will also top up my phone,
• have a long shower (with Eric? I'm not sure.),
• having topped up my phone, talk to people who don't talk unless talked to. Maybe Laurence?,
• Tidy my room again,
• accidentially break sallys bowling for soup cd.
  
• and make two or three new characters.
• come up with a very, very silly system for making the world a better place.
• make the world a better place, Without using the system.
• ask some people some really, really difficult questions. Aim to challenge their most deeply ingrained morals without actually offending them. Set out as if trying to convince them of something, but halfway through the discussion inform them that I was simply trying to make them think. Ask why they hadn't(or had?) thought about this kind of thing before.
• Write a script for the movie I was considering. Make it cheesy and full of references to shakepeare, the bible, and Fooly Cooly.
• Try and get someone to listen to something they probably shouldn't like. Maybe get Eric into Dimmu?
• spend at least an hour trying to think my way through my situation, and come out of it with a smile and a plan.
• Write some more poetry.

Speaking of poetry, here;

drift the whisper across
the red-wood table top.
they're waiting for you
don't think, don't pause

for some reason the metre suggests a rhyming couplet, so in some ways the 'pause' feels unnatural. This seems to work, but the rest is fairly generic. Any thoughts, anyone?

I think that counts as a post, doesn't it?

post

this post is a coded message.
you will decode its instructions in your sleep,
and execute them in the spaces between
moments of will. neither you nor i will
ever know the contents of this message.