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(APH) Drunk

Drunk- UsUk

You're at it again
Lost in the world
A glass, some ice
A bartender girl

What happens next
is what I do desire
Every Saturday night
To get in my car

And drive to the pub
Is that the right word?
Fake another scowl
Put in a cruel word

You'll need help going home
You're afraid to admit
So I take you myself
While you scream "Git!"

By the ride home you're asleep
Dead to the waking world
Lost in fantasy land
Childlike visions swirled

I ease your discomfort
With a pillow, removed clothes
Lay my jacket over top
Put a kiss on your nose

Your eyes flutter open
Stunning and green
I smile that charming smile
And wond

I Am a Stuffed Animal Bunny

I am a stuffed animal
Sweet, lovable, cuddly and can keep you company
Silent, small, and shy, but still can make you happy
If you're down, I can cheer you up
Little children are my best friends
Thrown away into the closet is my fear

Man Made the Money.Man Made the Money.

We think that if we had more money everything would be different.
That we would suddenly be able do all the things we always desired.
Because the lives we lead right now have become predictable and consistent.
And should we choose to, we could be the ones that are rejoiced and admired.

We could be the ones on the front cover of every magazine.
We could be the ones appearing on everyone’s television screen.
We could be the ones that the paparazzi haunt and terrorise.
We could be the ones that have our every move televised.
With the aid of money we could have unlimited vacations
And have access to an infinite amount

She hardly cares about fame
As she can never remember anyone's name
So she calls everyone by baby
Whether you're a man or a lady
When people see her she looks out of place
Probably because of all the piercing on her face
But to every girl or guy
Even if their straight, lez or bi
They all say she is a sweetheart and a cutie
With no prosthetics but 100% natural beauty
On her face that is, but April has a bread in the oven, the maker
Of this loaf she doesn't know, so this baker
Has left her with a recipe for a bastard inside the tomb
Of her belly where the yeast of this child grows and rises in the fires of her womb
When people as

Family PortraitFamily Portrait.

He comes home late, surly and disorderly.

Tears streaking from his eyes because he's so morbidly

Depressed and continues to drink unlawfully.

He notices I'm awake and sits me down forcefully.

He tells me to come close as he whispers to me reassuringly.

Then he thrusts me around the room, beating me unremorsefully.

He said its my fault that mum decided to leave.

He pulls me closer as he venomously adjusts his sleeves.

He said he regrets the day I was ever conceived.

He lifts me up towards the ceiling with supreme ease.

Grasping at my throat making it difficult for me to breathe.

He intensifies his grip

A Homecoming

Carlene was a blonde little girl
Who lived at the end of my block
And spent the most of her summer days
Watching the hands of the clock.

Every day at the strike of noon
She ran outside to her deck
To search for a sign of her Dad there
Coming home from his newest of treks.

But day after day her mother came
And carted the girl away
Whispering in the little girl's ear
"Not today Carly, not today."

But still the girl would watch at the door
For her Daddy to turn the corner
And everyday she prayed and prayed
For Daddy to return to his daughter.

Her mother hid behind the door
And spied on the sad little child
Waiting for a time to

InjusticeInjustice.

Gallivanting on the high street with my peers.
Thinking there is nothing in this world that I have to fear.

Contemplating an appropriate place where we should eat.
I then leant down to re adjust the laces on my feet.

Suddenly a legion of faces loom towards our direction.
Not assuming that we were victims of their brutal inspection.

They approach me in a violent and threatening manner.
My heart clamours and my mouth begins to stammer.

They bombarded me with belittling and derogatory terms
And asked me where I was from as if it any of their concern.

I answered truthfully and tried to mask my anxiety.
I att

UtopiaUtopia

I raise my head and tilt it towards the skies.
Open my imagination and close my eyes.

Envision a place where I would rather be.
As far away from any judgmental eye that can see.

A place where all my dilemmas become obsolete.
Free from my troubles and the expanding concrete

Confinement that I am forced to exist in.
A place where it doesn't matter if you don't fit in.

A place where nothing but a smile is required.
Where I can think and write to my heart's desire.

A place free from any physical and mental disposition.
Free from the conflicting and persuasive power of religion.

A place where there are adjustable weather condit

Reassuring PrideReassuring Pride.

I can do this on my own.

I don't require your assistance.

I'm not questioning whether your capable.

The Dark kingdom named Derse.

The storm still rages on,

When will it cease to pour?

Thunders and Lightnings,

I gotta admit, can be a bit frightening!

The breeze is cold and the rain is harsh,

Perhaps this world will become a great, big marsh?

I'm getting tired... There's one thing left to do.

Good night!

Sleep tight,

My little night light.

It's time to slumber, my dear.

To the place of darkened halls,

Where the voice of the HorrorTerrors call!

A bit horrifying than the tall towers of the Golden kingdom,

More isolated than the place of the shining buildings!

Everless, I still enjoy this place,

The Dark kingdom of grace.

I do believe this eye-popping paradi

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What a great place it was
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Spinning Rooster and The Iron Arrow

by *TheMadMulatto, Feb 26, 2012, 2:25:07 PM
Literature / Poetry / Narrative / Visual Poetry

Writhing in lightning

from a bolt in a wall

The thunder of a rattled shelf

it's Cats and Dogs in here

Pouring like a shit storm

down a hole in the floor

The drain

pipes in songs

of the torrential tortures

Screaming sheets of rainfall

and when rein drops

the splashing stops

The Whether of a seized vane

169

6 16 6

Spinning Rooster and The Iron Arrowby *TheMadMulatto

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Submitted on: February 26, 2012
File Size: 574 bytes

Views: 169
Favourites: 6 (who?)
Comments: 16
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Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

~All-My-Darkness Mar 1, 2012

The wriggle of
Some signatures

Was fucking hard
(w)rote learning
For some

But the undone
Never uncooked
The pigs

The squeals
Could deafen
and the most(ly)
Unrefined

The underlined ..=...
Will be lost in
Time

Becuase idiots hate
Is nothing short
Of an unwearably

Mentally Feeble

State

Reply

*TheMadMulatto Mar 3, 2012

Breast-feeding the needy
is alright, indeedy!

But they'll not have the Judge...

only Jury.

Reply

~All-My-Darkness Apr 8, 2012

Glad of that I am.

Reply

*chriseastmids Feb 27, 2012

damn i love your use of words

Reply

*TheMadMulatto Feb 28, 2012

I'm glad you enjoyed, Chris.

Reply

*chriseastmids Feb 28, 2012

you have a way with words

Reply

~rikoh Feb 26, 2012

Oh, crap, it's not writing, but writhing. My bad, sorry. But I like that too.

Reply

*TheMadMulatto Feb 27, 2012

I kept seeing "writing" too after posting it thinking it needed editing.
Some words keep you on your toes like that.

Reply

~rikoh Feb 28, 2012

But that keeps it interesting.

Reply

*TheMadMulatto Feb 28, 2012

Like some weird-ass seasoning you can't put your finger on right away.

Reply

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