AcrosticYou yearn to write in tortured prose? Or struggle to know your nouns from verbs? Untapped, untamed, a master of words? Ready to share a red, red rose, Empty your stomach, scatter your foes? And so arise, writerly herds, Load up those glistening, unpolished turds; List all your troubles, list all your woes.Acrostic
If grammar is hard, don't trouble yourself; Don't struggle to spell your verbage; In minutes you'll stack some wordage. Oh, throw in some long ones to show off your wealth! Then if its garbled and trite? So what, they'll still say, "Great write!"
SlayerThere's blood on the walls and blood on the floor, There's blood in his hair and blood on the door. A gun in his hand, a corpse on the boards, A smile on his face, blood on his cords, A light in his eye, a brother to kill, A rush in his veins, alive with the thrill.Slayer
"A minute to dinner!" he suddenly hears, And losing his weapons is all that he fears. "Ah shit!" he exclaims, and offers a prayer.
"I've told you before: don't swear!"
The Dolls' HouseA child on the floor with her dolls' house, A woman on the floor in the dolls' house.The Dolls' House
Clean, sharp, light on the bedroom wall, A man beats his wife at the end of the hall.
Rooms without walls in her dolls' house, Walls without room in the dolls' house.
A prince in his armor has come to call, Sirens far away as the light starts to fall.
Dreams for a girl in her dolls' house. A prison for her mind in the dolls' house.
Day fadesDay fades. Across a silver sky the darker shades creep. Flocks of slate grey cars fly swiftly home to roost.Day fades
I remember. A lonely day long gone, the swing across the yard. Voices raised in happiness, feeling lost in bed.
I remember. Walking home from school with the girl I thought I loved. Dead leaves in the railings whispered as we passed.
I remember. A summer day that faded, cast patterns on the beams. Thoughts of my lovers hair, in fields of shadowed gold.
So many days linked in lines, And joined in twilight hues. A hundred secre
Of Blood and SoulOf Blood and SoulOf Blood and Soul
It always tastes of blood and soul This place where forever and tomorrow meet The moment when touching hands no longer grasp The instant between holding and letting go
Cold As the empty space upon the pillow
Hollow As the echoes in the hall
Forgotten As yesterday’s “I love you” still lying on the living room floor
It always tastes of blood and soul When eternity comes to an end
